Filed to story: Tangled in Moonlight Unshifted Novel by Lenaleia
“Kellan thought it’d be the safest place for me while Ava and Lucas are… you know.”
The Grand Sage’s eyes twinkle with understanding. “Ah, yes. It’s always important to step away from new mates. Wolves don’t have the same deepseated urges for privacy as humans do.”
My cheeks burn at the implication. Desperate to change the subject, I nod towards the papers scattered on the table in front of him.
“What are you working on? Looks like some kind of design.”
The Grand Sage’s face lights up. “Indeed it is. I’m developing a communication device. Something smaller and more portable than what we currently have.
“Oh?” I lean in, genuinely curious. “Like a magical walkietalkie?”
He chuckles. “Something like that. Communication is a weak point for us right now, and I’m trying to address that. But I’m working with limited options due to our lack of supplies.” We’re refugees, after all. It’s not like we have access to the latest tech or endless resources. “Plus,” he continues, “it needs to be independent of magical affinity.”
“What do you mean by that?”
The Grand Sage sets down his pencil and turns to face me fully. “Not everyone in our camp can utilize or sense magic. We need a device that anyone can use, regardless of their magical abilities.”
Oh. Yes. Obviously that’s what that means. “Right. Gnomes can’t use magic. Or wolf shifters.”
He smiles. “We gnomes have always been deaf to magic.”
I lean against the table, fascinated. “So, how does that work with werewolves? I mean, their whole shifting thing is pretty magical, right?”
“Ah, excellent question,” the Grand Sage says, his eyes lighting up. “Werewolves do indeed have a form of innate magic that allows them to shift. But that doesn’t necessarily translate to an ability to manipulate other forms of magic. It’s a bit like how some humans might have extraordinary physical abilities but no talent for, say, mathematics. They are unrelated. Now, let’s get back to the communication device, shall we?”
I nod, leaning in to look at his sketches. They’re intricate, full of symbols I don’t understand and diagrams that make my head spin. “So, how exactly would this work?”
The Grand Sage picks up his pencil again, tapping it against the paper. “The basic principle is to create a network of energy that can carry messages across distances. Think of it like your human radio waves, but powered by a different kind of energy.”
“Magic,” I supply.
He nods. “Yes, but not in the way you might think. The device itself would be charged with magical energy, but using it wouldn’t require any magical ability from the user. It would be like using a flashlight. The electricity makes it work, but you don’t need to be an electrician to turn it on.”
It always surprises me how familiar the gnome is with our human world and its inventions, but I suppose that’s why he works on magical technology, trying to blend the two things. “That makes sense. So, what’s the holdup? Why isn’t it working yet?”
The Grand Sage sighs, running a hand through his beard. “Resources, mainly. We need certain materials to construct the devices, and they’re not easy to come by in our current situation. And then there’s the matter of testing and refining the design. It’s a delicate process. But above all, we would need a way to charge them.”
So many intricate designs and symbols are scattered across the papers. A thought strikes me, and I can’t help but voice it.
“Instead of starting from scratch, what if you used something that already exists as a base?” @
The Grand Sage’s eyebrows rise with interest. “That would depend on what you have in mind, my dear.”
It seems almost silly to suggest, but… “Well, what about watches? You know, instead of carrying around something bulky, we could take old watches and turn them into something like cell phones. Kind of like smart watches for humans.”
His eyes light up with fascination. “Smart watches? I’m afraid I’m not familiar with this term. Could you elaborate?”
“Sowatches are these small devices we wear on our wrists to tell time. But smart watches are like tiny computers. They can do all sorts of thingsmake calls, send messages, even track your health. They’re often linked to our cell phones.”
The Grand Sage leans forward, clearly intrigued. “Fascinating! And these are small enough to wear on one’s wrist?”
“Yep. They’re super convenient. I thought maybe we could do, something similar with magic.” “Could you perhaps draw one for me?” he asks, sliding a blank piece of paper towards me.
I grimace. “I’ll try, but I have to warn youI’m not much of an artist.”
Taking the pencil, I start sketching. My lines are wobbly, and the proportions are all off, but I do my best to capture the basic shape of a watch face and band. (2
LISA
“So, this is the face,” I explain, pointing to my crude circle. “And these are buttons on the side for different functions.” I add a few lumps to represent the buttons.
The Grand Sage peers at my drawing, stroking his beard thoughtfully. “I see. And you believe we could adapt something like this for magical communication?”
“Maybe?” I shrug, feeling a bit selfconscious about my suggestion now that I’ve said it out loud. “I mean, I don’t know much about magic. It was just an idea.”
He nods slowly, his eyes still fixed on my terrible sketch. “You know, Lisa, your idea has some merit. The compact size would certainly be an advantage. Of course, I’d need to acquire some of these watches to see what I could do with them, but it’s an intriguing concept.”
A warm flush of pride spreads through my chest at his words. It’s nice to feel like I’ve contributed something useful, especially when I often feel so out of my depth in this magical world.
A strange scratching sound comes from the door, startling me out of my warm glow. I glance at the Grand Sage, who looks equally puzzled.
“I’ll get it,” I offer, pushing away from the table.
As I approach the door, the scratching intensifies, sounding distinctly impatient. Curious, I turn the handle and pull the door open.
To my surprise, Selene slinks into the room, her silver fur gleaming in the dim light. Iceblue eyes meet mine before she pads past me, walking straight toward the older gnome, where they stare at each other in silence. Probably mindreading each other or something.
Elverly gives an exasperated sigh, grabbing for a washcloth and wiping the floor. Muddy paw prints trail behind Selene, leaving the marks of her presence. “Walking into a home, leaving it a mess. I’d never have a dog as a pet. Too much time spent cleaning up after them.”
“Some people don’t mind the mess. But Selene isn’t a dog. She’s a proper wolf and the Westwood
Pack Luna now.”
“Luna or dog, does it change these muddy paws on my floor?” Elverly points at them, her ascerbic words even throwing Selene off guard. The husky raises a paw, leaning her head down to sniff at it, her tail sliding between her legs.
“Come now, Elverly. She is a guest here. Do treat her with a little more understanding.” -Elverly’s scowl deepens as she turns her gaze from Selene to the Grand Sage. Her wrinkled face contorts into what I can only describe as a grimace of politeness as she curtsies. It’s like watching a cat try to swimunnatural and slightly painful to witness.
“My sincerest apologies for my unseemly outburst, Grand Sage,” she intones, her voice flat. “It was most unbecoming and shall not happen again.”
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. Elverly’s delivery? Let’s just say she’d never make it as an actress.
Elverly’s attention snaps to me. Maybe she could hear my internal laughter, which stops abruptly as she stomps over, each step punctuated by a soft thud of her gnomish feet.
“You,” she barks, jabbing a gnarled finger at my midsection. “Kitchen. Now. We need to put some meat on those bones.”
A grin spreads across my face. “Didn’t you say I was fat?”
She snorts, already turning towards the kitchen. “You’re getting fat. You aren’t fat yet.”
Wait a second. Wasn’t she just complaining about the quality of the food here? “Did you pack your seasonings?”
She pauses at the kitchen doorway, throwing me a look over her shoulder that clearly questions my intelligence. “Of course I did. I understand what priorities must be had.”
As she disappears into the kitchen, I can’t help but chuckle. Trust Elverly to consider her spice rack a priority during an escape. But then, a memory flashes through my mindthe chaos of our flight, the urgency, the fear. My smile fades as I realize something.
“Elverly?” I call out, following her into the kitchen. “Did you… did you pack your seasonings before you woke me up to save my life?”
She’s already bustling around the small space, pulling out pots and pans with a clatter that seems too loud in the sudden silence that follows my question. For a moment, I think she hasn’t heard me. But then she turns, fixing me with those sharp eyes of hers.
“And what if I did?” she challenges, one eyebrow raised. “Would you rather I left them behind? Then where would we be? Eating bland, flavorless mush like savages?”
I stare at her, mouth agape.
Really?
“Close your mouth, girl. You’ll catch flies,” Elverly snaps, turning back to the stove. “And make yourself useful. Chop those vegetables over there.”
Numbly, I move to the counter where a pile of vegetables sits waiting.
I start chopping, the rhythmic thud of the knife against the cutting board matching the confused beating of my heart. The silence stretches between us, broken only by the sizzle of whatever Elverly’s cooking and the steady chopchopchop of my knife.
“You know,” Elverly says suddenly, her voice gruff as always, “a good chef always has their tools ready. Can’t make a proper meal without the right seasonings.”
I pause in my chopping, glancing over at her. She’s not looking at me, focused intently on stirring something in a pot.
“But,” she continues, “a chef is nothing without someone to cook for. What’s the point of all those spices if there’s no one to appreciate the meal?”
girl. I still think you’re a nuisance. But you’re my nuisance. And I’ll be damned if I let anything happen to you on my watch.” 2
A warmth blooms in my chest, chasing away the cold doubt that had settled there. I feel my lips quirk up into a smile.
“Thanks. I like you, too.” 2