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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