Shalia's Spirit: Companion Novel to Katie's Journey

Acknowledgement

THANK YOU TO MY HUSBAND, who supports me in my writing endeavors and patiently waits for me to complete each book so I can spend time with him once more. Thank you to my friend, Jessica, for believing in me to continue with the Katie’s Journey books and the companion books.

Copyright © 2022 by T.L. Humphrey

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Book Cover by Wicked Smart Designs

Shalia’s Spirit

Second Edition 2025

Chapter One

I’M SITTING ON AN OUTCROPPING of rock and stone, which hangs about four feet over the river below, and I sit approximately six feet above the water.

Join me.

I keep my attention forward. There are two bridges across this river, spaced a good distance away, which give easy access to the forest rising green and strong behind me. Where I sit, facing the Glen’s great green expanse, I can see the farmers and merchants’ homes, the planted fields, and finally the Nobility and Council homes nestled at the mountain’s base. And in the mountain itself is where our King and Queen reside. And my home sits off to the left of me, nestled at the Mountain base. This is one of the best views of the whole Land.

Today, I am dressed in light blue-gray leathers with my bow and quiver of arrows resting within reach beside me. It’s typical for me to leave my house and come to this stone outcropping. It’s peaceful here and semi-secluded. I take pleasure in visiting this place regularly, if only to distance myself from other matters. When I arrived at this place, I had thought I was alone—not that I’m upset about the company who has found me. 

No, I reply, not interested in it, but fighting the urge to say yes and join him. I used to do that with him frequently... but we were children then. Why he’s asking now, I have no idea.

I glance over my shoulder, and my heart picks up a beat. I scoot back on the rock overhang, and he slips over beside me gracefully, setting his bow and quiver of arrows down beside him. His long legs stretch out in front of him. He is three feet away from me, but he feels closer. His long, silver hair is neatly in place, drawn back at the sides to hold the rest in place, typical of the male elves. I braid my hair to tame the natural wave in it, since I am not a true elf. I always wanted the straight locks of the Elves. It always appears like they never have to fuss with their hair. And I know, without looking, he has the typical ice-blue eyes of our kind. Elves have different colored eyes, but they are all ice-colored, paler, and piercing. I have green eyes, but not the ice-green, like I have always wanted. My eyes are human green. Between the color of my eyes and the roundness of my ears, every elf can tell I am half-human.

We sit in silence, gazing out over the river and to the Glen. My heart’s pace has not settled since he sat beside me and I’m sure he notices, so I ignore him trying to steady its beat. But since we were children, he’s set my heart at an irregular pace.

Let’s swim, he says, but does not move.

I learned to swim at an early age, and it was with present company I had done so. He sits still as a statue. This is another trait I wish I could achieve. I can manage for a short time and do it much better than any human, but I fail when there is another elf around. I cast a side-eye at him. He takes my breath away; he’s an Elven god. I shake my head, and I know he saw my silent reply. He grins, the only movement on his statue body. I’m tempted. He is extremely handsome, and my heart still has not come down from its erratic beat yet. I breathe out and settle.

Why? I finally ask, and he turns those ice-blue eyes to me. My breath catches... I want to do more than swim and swimming is not a temptation I need.

Why not? he counters with a flash of teeth.

He stands and puts his hands on his leather top. Elves are not overly modest; a body is a body. However, I am half-human, and it is that side of me which makes my cheeks flush. Elves appreciate beauty, but it is a beauty of the whole Elf, the mind, wisdom, and logical thought processes. The body is the cherry on top of the cake, like my mother says. She gives me human euphemisms from time to time, even though we live in the Elf Lands. I hear his tunic drop and make sure I fix my eyes straight ahead. He toes off his boots, and I hear him reaching for another set of clothes. A slow flush warms my cheeks.

I do not want to jump from here, I tell him—yet another attempt to keep from swimming. I know he teases me. Part of me wants to join him... wonders where it will lead... hoping it will lead... I chase those thoughts from me. My life does not allow for me to choose in that way.

So, climb down, he counters, and I hear his smile. But jumping is the fun part. 

I disagree. I dislike diving or jumping into the water. I never have. All other elves seem to have an infinity for it. I scooch over when his leather trousers fall, and I think I hear him chuckle. It’s not like I haven’t seen his body before. However, we were eight years younger, children, and nudity didn’t mean to us then—what it means to me now. 

Many elves find their connections in each other because of their logical thinking, strength, aptitude, and cunning. I found my connection with him in his body. Okay—and his mind. But more because he treated me like a true Elf. Of course, this was the primary draw. But his body is magnificent. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see his bare, muscular leg beside me—his calf—because I refuse to gaze higher.

Come on! he encourages.

I turn away, then glimpse his backside when he launches out in front of me. The firm buttocks and his lean, muscular back are straight in my line of sight as he seems to hover for a moment before plunging below. I hear barely a splash, and when I peer over, he has already risen and is pushing his hair back. The surrounding water strategically moves around him. He peers up at me, waving me in. I shake my head, pulling back, grabbing my bow and quiver before standing. He frowns at me, and I stare at him for a moment, tempted beyond belief. But I find my resolve.

Goodbye, Kolvar. I retreat, heading for the bridge about a half mile up from him.

The Elf Lands are beautiful all year round, no mar, no blemish. It is not hot, and it is not cold. Everything is green and thriving. Crops never fail, fruited trees always produce, and the waters never dry up. The tall mountain surveys the lands, climbing into the sky with various waterfalls, winding its way through the cut-out living areas and the craggy rock walls. The Glen stretches out before it, leading to the river I crossed and separates it from the forests beyond, surrounding the lands like a thick, green wall.

The castle architecture cut into the mountain, molds itself into a framework of precipices and crags, blending to become one with it. There are courtyards, balconies, and the waterfalls manipulated into a living art form, adorning the outer walls, and hinting at the luxury hidden within. Concealed alcoves within the mountain lead to more catwalks, stairwells, or under mountain levels deep within. The catwalks are strewn throughout, leading to the Nobles’ homes situated below the lowest balconies which are snugged securely into the mountain face. The stone archways lead to the balconies placed like stepping stones in the mountainside. The catwalks, balconies, and enclaves of the mountain are just visible from the Glen.

Our caste system is simple: Royalty, Nobility; consisting of Advisors, and Council, the Regime, servants, lay workers, and farmers. The lay workers and farmers occupy the valley or Glen, with the Merchants residing closer to the Nobility. The Nobility situates themselves near the Mountain, or the Hill, just before the Glen, with their homes built into the trees, a few made of stone, and others made of wood and rope. The homes closest to the Mountain, have catwalks leading straight to the Mountain. All the elves are strewn throughout the lands. All have a purpose of working and keeping the Elf Lands prosperous and safe.

My family lives just off the mountainside, nestled into the surrounding trees, with the mountain serving as the back wall of our home. The layout of our stone home uses the trees, intertwining them into the layout, adding strength and stability to the structure. We have our own personal catwalk straight to the mountain, because my father is Elf Nobility and Advisor to the King. My mother is human and Nobility by marriage. My father’s name is Shaln. My mother’s name is Delia.

My name is Shalia.

OUR HOME IS WHAT MOTHER refers to as an expensive treehouse. There are many levels to our house, but where many other elves’ homes utilize wood and rope, ours is stone, built around the trees, which are the living decorations throughout it. I climb the stone stairs to heavy wooden doors, and a servant opens them before I reach the landing. I incline my head in thanks and continue inside. Our foyer is ornate, and two large trees grow through the structure leading above. The inside stone staircase curves and angles, reaching the top level, the floor where my room is located.

I skip up the stairs to my room. Of all the rooms in the home, my room is my favorite. It is a large box of a room and has a large window with a tall tree right outside, its branches reaching out to my window. I’ve used this tree many times to leave my home undetected. I pull open the window’s shutters and let the fresh air and the sounds of nature inside. Then I turn to my dressing area and open my closet to find a gown to change into for dinner, while I run a brush through my hair to make sure it is presentable. I prefer my leathers, but proper attire is required for dinner.

I skip back down the stairs to the dining room, where my parents already sit. I kiss their cheeks and slide quickly into my seat. No sooner am I seated than the servants place our plates before us. While they do, I study my mother with her red hair. My own is a combination of my father’s silver blonde hair and her red, and I ended up with a silvery strawberry red—a reminder of my halfling status. Of course, I am treated with respect because of Father’s lineage and status. However, I always felt more comfortable with the merchants and lay workers—and Kolvar.    

I glance across the table at him, Noble Shaln Morgwyn, and Lady Delia. Many years ago, he had seen Mother and fell in love. The King sanctioned it, and I was born a year later. I do not know why the King approved my parents’ marriage, but it has been about twenty years now, and appears unlikely to change now.

Enjoy your day, dear? she asks.

Yes, I reply quietly. I enjoy all my time away from home. Perhaps it is the Elf in me, to like the outdoors.

Dalen sends his regards, Father says, not looking up.

I shovel food into my mouth and chew slowly. He finally gives me his attention when the silence stretches and waits until I am through.

I send mine, I say politely but with no warmth.  

Mother presses a quick smile to me, but it does not meet her eyes. Only the fact my father is Nobility do I have an attraction as a mate. I do not fool myself into thinking my halfling status offers me anything else. However, Dalen is a nice elf, and he has been cordial to me—always. Yet, I know Father has connections, which is a draw for