Kelala Flingfoot's Arc

Chapter 2 of 5

Kelala stretched her arms above her head, feeling yesterday's practice in her shoulders. The drummer had returned to her home beyond the meadow, but the rhythm still echoed in Kelala's mind. She needed to learn the sequences by heart, without music to guide her. She closed her eyes and counted the beats silently. The steps felt blurry in her memory. She could picture the spins and leaps, but the exact order kept slipping away. Her grandmother had mentioned something once about old records kept safe somewhere in the meadows. Kelala opened her eyes. If she wanted to perform perfectly at the sacred glade, she needed to study the original movements. She lifted into the air and flew toward the center of Mirthwood. The building stood between two giant oak trees, its walls covered in thick vines. Kelala pushed open the heavy wooden door. Inside, shelves stretched from floor to ceiling, packed with scrolls and books. Dust floated in the strips of sunlight coming through the windows. She walked down the nearest aisle, scanning the spines. Most books were about herbs or meadow history. Then she spotted it on a high shelf—a book bound in shimmering gold that caught the light like water. She flew up and pulled it down carefully. The cover showed pixies frozen mid-dance, their poses perfect and precise. Kelala sat cross-legged on the floor and opened the tome. Page after page showed detailed drawings of each dance step, with notes written in careful script beside them. She traced her finger over the first sequence. Now she could see exactly how each movement connected to the next. Kelala spent the rest of the morning copying movements from the golden tome. She practiced each step in the narrow aisles, counting beats under her breath. Her feet tapped against the wooden floor, but the sound felt too soft. She couldn't tell if her rhythm matched the drawings. She needed to hear her footwork clearly, the way the drum had helped her yesterday. Kelala closed the book and held it against her chest. Outside, she searched the meadow until she found a flat platform covered in rainbow flowers. The surface looked solid and smooth. She stepped onto it and tapped her foot once. The sound rang out clear and strong. She opened the book and placed it at the edge of the platform. Then she began the first sequence, listening to each step echo back to her. Her feet hit the platform in steady beats. Step, spin, tap, leap. The sound told her when she moved too fast or landed too heavy. By the time the sun reached overhead, she had learned three full sequences by heart. The afternoon shadows stretched long across the meadow. Kelala's legs burned, but she refused to stop. She needed more practice time before sunset. She gathered a string of lights shaped like flowers and stars from her grotto and flew back to the platform. She wrapped them around the nearest tree branch and let them hang down in soft loops. When the sun finally dipped below the trees, the lights glowed in gentle pastel colors. They lit the platform just enough for her to see her feet and the book. She ran through all three sequences again, then added the fourth from memory. Her movements grew smoother with each repetition. The platform drummed beneath her steps, keeping her honest. She landed the final leap and held the pose, breathing hard. Tomorrow she would learn the next set of sequences. Tonight, she had proven she could practice on her own.