Thursday, December 12, 2013

Fae



            When I was just a baby my mother had a meeting. I was far too young to understand such things. There was trouble, mostly I was the trouble. I gave my mother some awfully big problems. I, of course, never really understood this as a child, but who does when they're young. But as I was saying, my mother had a meeting. She walked out our back door and into the woods of the darkest night of the year. There was no moon, and a chill so biting that no wildlife would emerge from their hidey-holes. She walked calmly and without hesitation, even though she had no shoes. There was no sound but the soft tapping of her feet against the leaf carpeted ground. If she felt the rough earth hurting her feet she sure didn’t show it. It was as if she hovered just above the ground as she moved, though her feet moved distinctly. She was gorgeous and mysterious, an angelic figure.
            She strode proudly and with purpose. The wood was dead as the night, but her journey had definite direction in the seemingly limitless forest. She walked into a small grove of naked trees, all withered from the early winter. The grove formed almost a perfect circle. She came to the very center of the grove and stood waiting. There was complete silence all around her, not even the air dared to move. My mother stood with her head bowed and hands clasped firmly in front of her waiting. There was no sound as the elders walked from the shadows. The leafs would not crunch, the hollows refused to moan, the wind fell silent in fear of their presence. My mother showed no change at the Gray Lords’ appearance, as though it were of little consequence. She had that way about her, even before I realized exactly what it was, power and fearlessness. The elders stood around her in a nearly impenetrable circle. They were old like the rocks and the trees and the earth itself, old but unchanging. They resented my mother for embracing the new world, and for that they called the meeting.
            “I was summoned,” my mother said as the silence only dragged on, “To what purpose have I been called here?”
            There was no change, the Gray Lords had no sense of time or its passing. My mother did not have such luxuries. She had a husband, a child, a mortal life to live. If left to their own wiles they would simply stand around her, judging indefinitely.
            “We do not approve,” came The Elder Spiderling, a most impressive and terrifying combination of arachnid and man.
            “The humans cannot be trusted,” continued The Fariad.
            “I will not leave my family,” she replied. This was not the least bit shocking to my mother. She had in fact been expecting this exact conversation. It did not faze her in the least, she would not be bullied into giving up her life.
            “We cannot insure your safety,” spoke Nomina, the wisest of the elders, “Nor will we declare protection over your child.”
            My mother raged at the mention of me, “My daughter is none of your concern.”
            “The child carries fae blood in her veins, which makes her our concern.”
            “She is more human than fae. She will bring you no harm.”
            “If she can see us, we will see her, you know this,” said Elder Oakman.
            “She will have no knowledge of this world. Your secrets will be safe.”
            “She will have powers.”
            “No power so great it cannot be explained by some human means.”
            The Elders deliberated silently. My mother stood in tense agony of their decision. She feared the worst, even as she had walked so calmly to this meeting. She feared that the Gray Lords might call for my death, or for my mother to return to the fae lands. She would not leave my father and I. She knew there were risks out in the human world, but she was willing to face them. I was worth the suffering, and hardship. She stood watching the slight shimmer of movement all around her. The Gray Lords could be indescribably cruel, but they could also be miraculously charitable. My mother’s heart begged the earth to let the Elders leave her be.
            “Lords, all I ask is that you leave my family be, and in return I shall keep your secrets safe,” she pleaded.
            The deliberation fell quiet as Nomina stepped forward to deliver the verdict.
            “We lay no claim to the child. We offer no protection to you or your family, but nor shall we interfere in your decision. Our council is spoken.”
            The Elders melted into the blackness of the night as though they were mere shadows upon the trees, and my mother stood again alone in the grove as the night air grew ever more frigid. There was nothing left, so my mother walked home.

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