Making a Magic Harp

By Kiera Elieson

Elora, who’s been blessed (or perhaps cursed) with wings, works in a library at a school teaching magic. Though the magic is very dangerous, and she certainly doesn’t have any training, she’s trying to make a magical harp.

Though her creating is hindered by her job, and also by meeting an extremely pretty woman named Asha.

And then the students start trying to do their own experiments with magic, which are not going well. One of the students isn't actually a student, and the wizard's cat has been hanging around him a lot. The library gets trashed more than once, and when Elora tries to report the students to the teachers she ends up chased across the school and getting hurt. Which is a bad thing, particularly because having bruises on her face is awfully embarrassing when she's trying to meet up with Asha for a picnic dinner.

She ends up telling Asha all about her harp that she's making, and Asha helps her to finish it. But then it won't make a sound. Or at least, not a harp-like sound.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kiera Elieson
• Release date: Aug 11, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005163723

Kiera Elieson

I'm an avid lover of Fantasy, but wanted some softer stories. So I wrote my own! When you read my books, you can expect many of the problems the characters face to be emotional or relational, rather than solely magic or politics. You'll also find plenty of queer characters and lots of found family.

Book preview

Making a Magic Harp

To all those that have supported me along the way.

And special thanks to my beta-readers and friends that let me ramble on about my story.

Copyright [2021] [Kiera Elieson]

All rights reserved. For permissions, questions, or comments contact: [[e-mail]]

Published by Kiera Elieson at Smashwords.

Chapter One

The afternoon sun streamed through the window into her little attic room, warming it pleasantly and making the whole room feel bright and airy. It was a small room, but she’d made it hers, breaking up the wooden boards of the floors and walls with cream and pink, curtains and bedspread acquired over years of small wages and meticulous hand sewing.

Elora tucked her wings in close, not wanting to ruin the magic she was working with a stray feather or breeze. She’d been working on this for too long to ruin it now. Not now when it was so close. Just five more strings.

She took the braid, carefully woven of seven strands of long golden hair, just exactly as long as she needed. The hair had been a gift. She’d asked for it, but that made it no less a gift, as no payment had been asked in return. She tied one end very carefully at the top of the harp, pulling it taut, but not too tight, and fastened the other end.

Very gently, she plucked each string she had so far, soft, sweet tones filling her little space. She listened carefully, tuning the new one to the right note.

Elora! a familiar voice called, and she quickly threw her blanket over the unfinished harp, dusting her hands off on her apron as if there were evidence on them that might show what she’d been doing.

She ran out of the room, shutting the door very quietly and turning to the side, so it would look more like she had been passing by, not that she’d been inside.

Coming! Elora called, trying to hit that tone between eager-to-please and calm, without guilt over having been away from her place.

Oh good, I’ve been looking for you for ages. You’re needed in the library. The matron of the first-year class said a bit sternly as Elora reached her.

Elora hid her worry. Yes, ma’am. I’ll go there right away.

If it was first-years, they’d probably gone and made a mess of all the books. Again. It seemed no one properly respected the library until they’d been studying at least a full year. But since the school accepted new students yearly, Elora had to deal with an assortment of people that believed ’student’ meant they didn’t have to clean up behind themselves.

Well, it was at least possible that she could get another gift for finishing the harp. She’d have used her own hair, but it was too short, a pale tan-colored fluff more like down than hair anymore, and wasn’t good for any but the first few, smallest strings, even after braiding. And anyway, the magic she was trying to imbue the harp with always seemed to work best with a variety of gifts.

She ran down into the library, her wings fanning out for balance and tucking in so she could get through the door. She didn’t expect someone to be standing directly in front of the door, and her wings shot instinctively to brake, one of them smacking into the door, and making it bang against the wall very loudly.

She winced as every eye in the room was drawn to her abrupt entrance. She really shouldn’t have tried to run in.

The man she’d nearly crashed into was a wizard, old with long robes and thick glasses. He was a frequent visitor of the library, sometimes staying for hours at a time. His eyes were wide, blinking at her with a hand on his chest.

She tucked her wings in quickly, with a very small, Sorry.

She’s cursed… one of the first-years murmured.

Elora fluffed up in indignation, looking around the wizard to try to see who had said it. It’s a blessing!

The man set a hand on her head, which, on top of everything else, seemed incredibly condescending. It’s alright, dear, they’re young and foolish.

Yes, she bit out. They are.

She walked off into the shelves of books, leaving them all behind. Of course, there was a wave of whispers as she left their line of sight, but she genuinely didn’t want to hear them.

Her cheeks burned with both embarrassment and anger, and she avoided the eyes of anyone she could see, just picking up books and scrolls that were out of place and collecting them onto the cart, ready for putting away later, when there were less rude people milling around the library.

They left her alone for a while, which she appreciated, still upset that they whispered and judged her, but glad that they at least had enough sense not to bother her directly.

She carried another armful of books back to the cart, and there was a boy standing beside it, watching her silently. She ignored him, stubbornly keeping her gaze averted for several trips back and forth, but finally the cart was full, and she frowned rather grumpily at him.

What?

He looked down and shuffled awkwardly. He was young, younger than