Fay Warrior, Fay Master

Prologue

Fay Beckoning

Twas but a fortnight ago when I wandered, strolled
Deep into the comforting shadows of twilight green...rustling, whispering
Adorned only in the dusk with hairbreadth of moonbeam...speckled, silver
Which danced upon barren skin to enfold in embrace...loving, urging
And the scent of weald blanketed the senses...soothing, calm

Twas but a fortnight ago when I wandered, strolled
Keeping watch o’er thicket and wood thus...guardian, lover
Steadfast in bound spirit to nurture kith and kin e’er...mother, daughter
Delighting in the wind’s gentle caress across iridescent skin...tender, soft
And luxuriating under starlight kisses...joyful, euphoric

Twas but a fortnight ago when I wandered, strolled
Searching for intimate fay dust far and wide...shimmering, chaste
To play our timeless game of quest beneath leaf and vine...impish, whimsical
Frolicking hand in hand and light of shimmering wing...enchanting, enticing
Creators of ethereal rings beneath our sprite feet...mystic, pure

Twas but a fortnight ago when I wandered, strolled
So now I beckon to thee once again, “Come hither and...rejoice, celebrate”
It is time sister fairy and brother elf to gather...uniting, amassing
To share the glory of timeless beauty of which we...nurtured, cared
For we are woodland aristocracy and immortal keepers...forever, eternal
And it is time to revel in the cast of our lot together...entwined, interwoven

So now I wander and stroll e’er reaching toward our haven hidden, secret
Calling out in siren voice awakening your souls for...it is time, it is time.


Fay Warrior, Fay Master
Prologue

Faint hues of reds and golds streaked the dark sky as night began its retreat for sleep. Normally a cue for morning activity, this time it only offered a shroud of silence blanketing the lands. Not a bird sang its welcoming song, nor could a creature be heard foraging. It was as though this very moment in time had been frozen…frozen though the day still approached.

As the sun continued its ascent, to the west could be seen the formidable hazy outline of the towering Blue Elderian Mountains named thus since it was known amongst all from the beginning of time that the Ancient Elderians resided within and about these lands and which on certain days appeared as though created from nothing more than blue, mystical smoke. And to the east could be spied the vast, lush Fayring Valley renowned for its unusual variety of blossoming flowers and plants spread out vast and far…and also named aptly for the abundant proof of faerie activity through constant sightings of ethereal rings. Between the east and west lands stood thick, ancient woodlands called Wikkenwind Forest named both for its mysterious inhabitants and strange whistling winds that blew constantly through the woods, as well as rumors of numerous odd and unexplained disappearances of human folk who might happen to wander in.

Further east past the valley, the land clearly darkened and plants dwindled to crumpled black stalks. No formal name had been given to such a loathsome area but the locals referred to it as the Dead Lands. The ground welcomed nothing offering only the stench of tarry bogs and poisoned, filthy water. Once healthy, even the tall majestic trees now appeared only withered and as bent as an old hag. Not so long ago, these lands were also rich and fertile, inhabited by both common folk and not so common folk. That is, it was habitable until the infestation of wharf trolls. These creatures at one time had only occupied a small area near the sea keeping within their own boundaries. Most knew not to tread within those boundaries lest they lose their lives to insidious appetites. For the most part, none ventured in and the creatures did not venture out. So it was never understood why these foul beasts had suddenly moved from their seaside territory to spread out and occupy the lands directly next to Fayring Valley…but many a speculation abound. Some said that the creatures’ hunting grounds had dwindled unable to provide enough meat for their numbers while others inevitably whispered of conspiracies.

Nevertheless, the creatures had staked their claim increasing their territory yet never threatening other lands. So the issue had never been pressed or pursued since the beasts kept to themselves and this is how it had been for some years now until the threat had been forgotten and the infringement accepted as a mere nothingness over time.

The young warrior shook his head to clear his thoughts. Other matters weighed far heavier with importance to him at this time. Silver armor glinted in the growing sunlight as he knelt on a nearby ridge continuing to study the lay of all the land below and about. A battle was brewing amongst the Fay kingdoms and he had every intention of being one of the first to utter his noble war cry to defend the territory. His grip tightened and relaxed at intervals upon the hilt of his sword which he leaned upon during his intent study. The tip of the blade stuck soundly in the ground where he had thrust it so that he may lean, watch, and wait. His teeth gritted in tension and jaw muscles worked with anger. And he dare not confess to himself that he felt a chill of dread move along his youthful spine lest it dampen the fire burning deep within his soul. For he needed this fire to fuel his strength and courage. But he would, however, confess to his excitement - excitement to finally go to war. Although he once thought the war would be with the trolls and not, surprisingly, another faerie kingdom. Silently, he plucked a few blades of grass and raised his fingers into the air. Piece by piece he let them fall as his sharp eyes narrowed and watched the direction they might land. They drifted almost flawlessly below. Perfect, he thought while his pointed ears twitched instinctively to listen. The wind will not interfere with sound or smell. He inhaled deeply the rich smells that surrounded him - spicy teletrum weeds, sweet apple blossoms, and the strong rich scent of weald from Wikkenwind Forest. If he breathed deeply enough, he could almost taste these very things. His ears twitched again as the distant sounds of cascading falls filled him.

“Master, you know that you are not to be here…and dressed in battle armor! Your father will have your wings! You must come with me at once!”

The young Fay Warrior dropped his blade in astonishment as he turned…agitated that he had not heard her approach. Why could he sense everything else with such clarity but never detect this one old woman? By the Elderians it was the most frustrating thing he had endured over the years!! He frowned at her tone as he watched the woman rest her hands upon her hips then replied most unwarriorlike, “But I will miss the fun. And I am old enough to go into battle myself…”

“Tell that to your father then,” she replied sharply as she neared the all-too-eager lad. Her experience had taught her that Fay youth acted no differently than common folk youth when it came to brashness. Neither ever truly thought through their decisions but first acted upon them.

“I already spoke to Father but he forbade me to come. I am fifteen and old enough to fight. Why will he not let me?” he asked almost petulantly while retrieving then raising his blade. He proudly studied the gleaming emblems spark under the sunlight and how if he turned it just right, it appeared to blaze white fire.

“Perhaps it is because you are his only son…or perhaps, as I might guess it, you are not quite ready for such a task. Warring is not a game. It is very different than learning to fight and sparring. You are placing yourself in harms way. And if it comes down to making the choice of your life or your opponent’s life, you must make that decision in but an instant. You are not ready for that.” The old woman soothed matter-of-factly as she neared the youngling. “You will have your time. But do not be so ready for that time to come…it will not be a happy time. And if you were as ready as you thought, would you not also have your shield by your side?”

The old woman’s ward sighed with resignation realizing he had indeed forgotten a very important piece to take into battle. This certainly did not help prove his readiness as a full grown Fay Warrior. He turned reluctantly relinquishing his blade into her gnarled hands. Shield or not, why should he not be able to help his father? Why must he always flutter about on the outskirts? But the young Fay Warrior was also not ignorant. If the old woman thought him unready, then surely he must be just that. He sighed again then lovingly took the woman’s arm. “Very well, then. I will return home but it is with the understanding that it is against my wishes.”

“I know, my son. But this is for the best.” She patted his shoulder then leaned against the boy as they made their way back into the sheltering forest. “Besides, your mother would be worried sick if she knew you to be here awaiting this unfortunate war.”

“You will not tell her…I mean…it is not that I am afraid…but she should not worry…,” he wheedled as they strolled deeper into the woods.

The old woman glanced sideways at her favorite ward and winked, “Of course not…this time. But even one, as old as I, can lose patience if too many brash decisions are made.”

The youngling grinned and leaned in kissing her precious wrinkled cheek then instantly turned somber. “Do you think many will be harmed? I confess…I still have no understanding of this dispute and there are some…uh…some others whom of which I wish not to be harmed…,” he trailed off lacking the right words to finish his sentence.

“And would ‘some others’ happen to be a pretty little eleven year old faerie?” the old woman cackled knowledgeably.

“No! Not her! She is much too young for me…,” the boy flushed red and looked away.

“Too young now but not in a few years. You have a good eye, my son. She is quite an unusual one. You might say she is one of a kind. But not to worry. These disputes never end in bloodshed. For the most part, there is much posturing and fussing until the offended one has had his ruffled wings soothed. But that does not change the fact that you are too young to make decisions between life and death.”

The young fay now walked silently with the crone while deep in thought. He knew the girl to be too young for him but he had already secretly decided that when old enough, he would make her his mate. He need only assure their mutual final joining which would mean that when of age, he must be vigilant in his pursuit. There could be several couplings but there was only one final joining for eternity…or as the humans would say “until death do us part”. And he would need to prove himself Master…for royal Fay women had to be completely mastered before accepting a mate heart, body, and soul. The final joining of seeding her would not be as difficult a task as the Mastering.

For now, he would keep a distant eye on her because she filled his mind even now…her uncommon beauty and grace…her unusual sharp mind even at such a tender age. How had he allowed himself to be bewitched and even before his first coupling?! Well, by the time she was old enough, he would have had many couplings and would be ready for the final joining and Mastering. And he must not show jealousy as she experienced her couplings…for it was only natural for the both of them to do so.

Then a bitterly grotesque thought entered his mind and his stomach turned. What of his cousin? Had he not seen his cousin watching her as though she were a tender morsel? It sickened him. His cousin was nine years her senior and quite the experienced Fay Warrior. He must be especially vigilant against him as well. And something about his cousin did not sit well with him…and not just regarding the girl. He could not quite place the reason for his particular dislike of him but it also did not help that the Fay showed interest in his future intended. His brows knitted angrily.

“Do not frown so, my son. Your cousin is not the young girl’s type. If he wheedled his way close enough to her…he still would never get to a final joining. And he most assuredly would never Master her for he does not have what it takes within him to do so. She is much too smart for one such as he. No, do not squander your thoughts on him.”

“What about coupling? I mean…just for uh…well what about it? Do you think she would couple with him?” he gave up covering his fondness. The old crone would find out anyway. A bottomless well of knowledge, that one.

“Now that I cannot answer. You will do well to remember that numerous couplings will be part of her nature just as with yours. This you will have to accept because your kind have fiery hearts.”

“I know this but find it difficult to think upon…I suppose this is another thing which I must accept and that I am too young to understand right now…,” he ground his teeth with agitation.

“Yes. This is another lesson you will learn. But I have every confidence that you will learn it well. Now, stop your frowning and worrying and let us make our way back a bit quicker. I am sure I could not openly lie to your father should we pass him on the way.”

The young warrior’s frown disappeared replaced with a mischievous grin. He grabbed the old woman tighter then darted into the air to fly quickly toward home. She squealed with surprised delight and he laughed as they zipped through the trees disappearing into the dark forest.
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McKinzie S. Heart
~Live to write, write to live~