Changeling

Warnings: descriptions of violence

For all those who feel cast aside, your powers are greater than you know.

“Are you a witch/ or are you a Fairy/ or are you the wife of Michael Cleary?”

Many an innocent has been doused in flames, pressed with hot iron, or abandoned in the woods because the humans fear us. We can be terrifying things. We live in the dirt-walker’s world, yet we are not of their realm. We have powers far greater than any man who pretends to rule this ancient land. We appear sickly and weak, “impure”, but the dirt-walkers know not of what they see, for power comes in many forms.

When I was young, I was a sickly child, but blessed by beauty. My eyes were large opal pools in my small head, surrounded by thick, pussy willow lashes. My cheeks and lips were pink as rosebuds and I laughed at most everything despite my almost endless sicknesses and the odd, translucent green glow of my skin. My grandmother was the one who called me by my true name:

“Changeling!” She screamed when she saw me. “Look at the tips of her ears! Pointed they are, no doubt. And that pallor, good heavens, Niamh, your feyish roots have cursed us yet again!”

My mother was calm, like the ocean in which she used to swim, but in her, a fire burned hotter than the iron my grandmother tried to burn me with. My mother had prayed that the fairies would bless her with a changeling child, for then she would have two. One raised by her kind, and one raised by her other kind, humans. She hugged me close to her chest and drew herself tall above my grandmother.

“It was your son who brought me from the fey realm, do not forget that. And the appearance of this changeling child is not a fault of mine, but a blessing the fairies have bestowed upon us. Are you so quick to deny the fey’s gift? I know you still practice the ancient ways, Cara. I see you leaving out milk and honey for the wee ones with wings on a full moon.”

Cara’s face grew hot, and she traced the sign of the cross across her body mumbling in ancient human. My mother paid her no mind and instead hummed to me, caressing my tender, pointed ears gently.

“Hello, my little changeling lass, what should we call you?” She asked. I wrinkled my nose with a sneeze and a black moth fluttered out of my nostril. My mother giggled. “Quite an interesting sight you are my bug-nosed one. I shall call you Aisling.”

My father approved of the name and loved and accepted me as he would a child of his own. Despite this, my sicknesses scared and hurt him. I would wake from a fever and see him standing over my cradle with a cross made of leaves. He didn’t know what else to do, who else to ask for help. I, being no more than a babe, could not tell him that his leaf cross would do nothing to ease my suffering, that I was simply adjusting to the human world.

As I grew older, my sicknesses became less frequent and to strengthen me my mother and father learned to feed me fey food, which consisted mostly of berries, nuts, milk, and honey. Despite my increased health, the sicknesses were battled against best through storytelling. Occasionally, my grandmother would read from the dirt-walker’s holy book, perhaps trying to cleanse me of my “feyish filth” as she called it, or maybe hoping the stories would burn my ears and drive me away. The holy book did neither of these things and I even found myself enjoying parts of it. However, the story that imbued strength within me and always helped me to forget even the most intense of fevers was the love story of my mother and father.

My mother and father grew up playing in the ocean waves together. As they got older their love of the ocean bonded them and they started a fishing business. One day, my mother went fishing by herself. She didn’t come back for hours and my father practically sent the entire town after her, but no one could find her. My father never stopped his search, on his normal fishing trips he’d take an extra hour to look for my mother. You see, he was in love with her, and the thought of losing her was unbearable. His love for her kept his hope of finding her alive. On his darkest days, when the hope in his heart waned, he would encounter a beautiful gray seal waiting for him by the shore. He wept when he saw the seal because he swore it had my mother’s eyes.

One night, after a month had passed, my father was restless. His mind would not allow him to sleep; he continued to be startled awake by dreams of my mother calling out his name. My father sought the ocean for comfort, half hoping he would see the sleet gray seal. Instead of the seal, my father saw glowing lights on the hill beside his house. He climbed the hill to investigate and saw a group of beautiful men and women dancing in a circle. At first, he thought they might be human, worshipping the old gods, but then he saw the gleam of sleek, silver seal skins hanging on the trees. My father realized he’d encountered a group of selkies. He grabbed a soft, gray seal skin that hung from a tree nearby and hid until he saw dawn’s golden fingers part the tree branches. Soon, a horde of seals dove into the water. He heard a cry and ran to the selkie dance hall to find a beautiful woman with thick black hair and lightning blue eyes crying on the ground. She looked so familiar and when she looked up at him, he realized it was his drowned love, my mother. She recognized him instantly and ran into his arms. He carried her home, and after hiding her seal skin and cleaning her up a bit, he professed his love to her. She said she felt the same way, and they were married soon after.

Life was not easy for me, there were times when I was too tired to fight the sicknesses and lost hope in the dirt-walker’s world. I was faced with so much hatred and fear within the town, and my own home, that I wondered if there was anything good in this human realm. When thoughts like these struck me, I would remember the story of my mother and father. I remembered the sea that connected them, the dedication of my father, and the feyish history of my mother. Most of all, I held on to the love imbued within every word of the tale.

This love would pull me through even the darkest of days. One of which, came much sooner than expected. When I was ten years old, my father died. He contracted an illness that had ravaged the town and was one of many to be lain to rest in the town graveyard that winter. The first few years without him were bitter and hard. More than a few people tried to kidnap and kill me to ease my family’s suffering. Dirt-walkers would take every opportunity to press their own agenda, even the death of a man they barely spoke to. My mother did her best to protect me, but her grief was too great, and I had to learn how to protect myself both emotionally and physically.

My powers began manifesting a year after my father’s death. I was able to levitate our sleeping cat, form shadows, and light, and grow flowers when I stuck my fingers into wet soil. My growing powers drew the fair folk into our yard, and I would sing with them in their musical language. My supernatural playmates were noticed by the village, no matter how much Cara tried to deny that I was anything but a human child to our friends and neighbors. No one believed her.

A crowd gathered outside our home one night after I came in from the moonlit field. They demanded to see me, they demanded I either be sent back to the fey realm or burned so I would not bring bad luck to the town. My mother defended me like she always did, and Cara only mumbled to Mother Mary. The villagers got restless and barged into our house, upturning pots of grain, dirtying sheepskins, searching through rooms, and breaking anything, they could find. I was hidden in a closet when one of the foolish dirt-walkers flung open the finely crafted wooden doors. There was a moment when time froze, and I could feel the fear coursing through my veins. I looked deeper inside myself for something to hold onto. Underneath my fear, I found the cold touch of pure hatred. I tried to grab onto that emotion, but it scared me even more than the angry villagers. I could feel myself panicking so I thought about the sea, my mother before my father died, and the love I felt for my family. This love twinkled in my heart and I grabbed hold of it, forcing the power to the surface in a beam of blinding white light. The villager shrieked and scrambled back into the main room, shouting in gibberish, and clawing at his eyes. I leaped from the closet, turning the blinding light I had created into shadows. The darkness elongated into a seven-foot beast, the shapes it made on the wooden paneling of the hallway reminding the villagers why they sat in wooden pews on Sundays. I barely needed to leave the room before I heard the shouts of the villagers and the slam of our front door.

My moonlit visits from the fey became more consistent after that with more of the fair folk in attendance. Some nights, there were so many fey dressed in reflective spider-webs it appeared as though the moon had dropped down from the sky to pay us a visit. My mother would occasionally join me in the yard, talking, laughing, and dancing with gorgeous, naked figures that danced as though they were swimming. Cara largely avoided our revelries, but sometimes I would catch her setting out extra trays of milk and honey. Cara never practiced evil against me or washed her hands in holy water after touching me since the incident with the villagers, but she didn’t acknowledge me either, she did her best to keep her distance and keep out of the house as much as possible, though socialization with our neighbors became difficult due to my continued existence.

One morning, a year after the rampage on our humble home, my mother disappeared back into the water to rejoin her selkie sisters. I remember seeing her dark hair flowing in the wind as she ran to the waves, clutching a gray seal skin to her chest as though it were the finest of gowns. She was cleaning one day and came across an old wooden chest in the attic. The chest was locked with no key nearby to open it. My mother, determined to find what was inside, broke the lock with one of my father’s old fillet knives. Inside was the silky soft seal skin my mother had worn during her time with the fey. I did not feel sad at her departure, for I was sure I would see her again during the fey’s moonlit visits, but I did feel fear at the prospect of being left alone with the dirt-walker, Cara.

My fear soon transformed into loneliness, for my mother had not appeared at my moonlit playtimes in over a year. I was beginning to lose interest in the moonlit escapades of my people, for my entire time was taken up by hopes of seeing her smile at me again, only to be crushed by the realization that she had failed to attend yet again. Time and time again, I would see a swirl of black hair and when I turned to follow it, it would be a tree nymph, an elf, or an unfamiliar selkie. All night I would chase the woman who raised and loved me only to be rewarded with frustration and tiredness. On the anniversary of my mother’s disappearance, I decided this would be the last moonlit visit I attended for a while. Just as I was about to retire to my bedroom, a flicker of black hair and blue eyes caught my attention. Out of mere habit, I followed the figure. The fey I encountered was no fey at all, but a young human girl, a dirt-walker, but she had a mystical quality about her, like a fairy ring, ordinary on the outside, but powerful on the inside. Something drew me to her like an invisible string dipped in a golden mystery. Suddenly, we were face to face as though the world had contracted around us.

“They say you are the daughter of a dirt-crawler, but not by blood,” the black-haired, blue-eyed human stated, her shimmering dress catching the moonlight, and casting glittery sparkles onto both our faces. It was captivating and saddening how much she resembled my mother. For the first time in a long time, I felt slightly self-conscious about my feyish looks and their inability to replicate my human mother’s. Once, I had tried powdering my face with flour to hide the shiny, green luminescence. That was one of the few times I made my mother cry.

“They say correctly, but I have heard nothing of you.”

The girl smiled childishly, swishing her sparkling blue gown. “I have been hiding.”

“Why?”

“Do you not recognize my eyes or the color of my hair?”

“I have seen many with these dirt-walker colorings,” I fake the knowledge my mind already possessed. I was not sure I was ready for this encounter. Part of me felt as though my loneliness was about to end, part of me wondered if I was ready to let it go.

“Don’t be silly,” the girl frowned. “I look just like your selkie mother, surely you must know the same woman who abandoned me, also abandoned you. We are sisters by acquaintance.”

“She did not abandon you; you were taken by the fey,” I shake my head, not wanting to start a fight with a sister I barely knew. I take her hand in mine, our fingers were the same size. “It is an honor to meet you sister, though I wish you had come to me earlier. I do not know where our selkie mother has swum to. She would have loved to see us together. Her feyish girl and her human lass.”

“I do not care what are mother would think,” the girl stepped closer to me. “But I would like to be friends. Only you truly understand what it means to live on the outside as I do.”

For many years, we showed each other the acceptance and love that was not always granted to us. Because of her humanness, it was easy to run around the town with her, scaring the locals with our feyish ways and putting on magic shows for the younger children. Occasionally, Irena, for that was her name, would take me into the fey realm. There we would explore the tunnels that lead to the human realm and she would show me all the flora and fauna that lived in her world. We slowly but surely became the sisters my mother would have wanted us to become. Although Irena always refused to talk about our mother, she told me about the sad fate of my feyish family. Changeling children are not just children of the fey, they are children of fey who have been compromised, sometimes it is due to a betrayal of the fairy code, other times it is the dirt-crawlers who cause their death. In my parents’ case, their lake home was covered up by a town, with nowhere to go, they sent me away in a bubble to the nearest feyish haven. They intended to stay and fight off the townsfolk. That was the last that was heard of them. The fair folk acted like a group of ash trees, connected, deep within the fey realm, if a fairy died or lost contact with other fey, their chances of survival were slim. I was saddened to hear of their passing the way dirt-crawlers are sad to hear of a distant relative’s passing. They are sad because people they know are sad and because someone is dead, not because they had any effect on them personally.

It was so nice to be able to share my world with someone else and explore theirs. Everything within the fey realm felt like home, but different as though I was welcome but not invited. A feeling my own home gave me. Irena and I did not fit within our realms, but we fit together in our place of sisterhood, in the in-between spaces where magic existed but dirt-crawlers dared not enter. We watched each other grow from young children to beautiful and enchanting women.

The times changed and technology grew to magical and sometimes dangerous proportions. Soon, it came to our town in the form of a man, a deadly man, who wanted to practice the darker side of human advancement. He wanted to set up a factory in our town, but he needed the extra land to do so. He turned his glistening amber eyes towards the forest that housed the fey. He announced his plans to decimate the forest to make way for the future of our town during a town hall meeting. Most of the dirt-crawlers were happy at the prospect of extra jobs and did not believe in fairies. Even though they saw me nearly every day, I had become an anomaly, simply explained away by science and “bad parentage”. A few of the townsfolk, after hearing of the man’s plans, muttered ancient chants under their breaths that had existed long before crosses symbolized salvation. I remember slipping out of the meeting desperately needed to meet with Irena.

When I encountered her on the edge of the woods in my back garden, she had a preoccupied look in her eyes.

“What is it, Irena?” I asked, noting the wounds on her lips she had made with her teeth.

“We are moving,” she bit her lip again to control her emotions. “My family has agreed that it is no longer safe for the fey here.”

I nodded. “They’re right, that newcomer wants to tear down the forest.”

Irena nodded. “I will miss this place, but if you come with me, the move will not be as bitter. We have time to gather our belongings and get ourselves in order. We are luckier than most feyish realms in that regard. Besides, if you join us, you will be able to cultivate your feyish roots in ways you haven’t before,” Irena grasped both my hands in hers. “It will be wonderful! Please, leave these dirt-crawlers and come with me.”

I shook my head. “No, as much as I want to I cannot. You and your family should seek haven for a time, but I will not follow. I can’t let him get away with destroying the forest. I have to stay here. The fey, the dirt-crawlers, and the animals within the forest are counting on me.”

Irena scoffed and dropped my hands. “What are you going to do? The dirt-crawlers don’t even like you here. You would be better off somewhere else, with me.”

“This is my home.”

“And the fey are your people. What have the dirt-crawlers ever done for you?”

“They,” I paused. Of all the anger sent my way by Cara and the townspeople, I had loved the magic of the town. Despite, the fear, confusion, and hatred they associated with me they respected the fair folk, never disturbing their forest, the fey rings they left behind, untouched, same for the sacred rock formations the fey had built. The fair folk had a home here, no outsider could take away, not if I could help it. “They give me hope and they’ve made a home for the fey here. You know, you’re human too.”

“Yes, but I’m not like them. I’m different, we’re different.”

“But that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t stay and fight for what’s right. Forget the dirt-crawlers, what about the nature, the trees, the rabbits, the nymphs, and all the fey, including your family, who has made a home in this forest,” I gesture wildly to the trees behind her, silver sparks shooting from my hands by accident.

“Aisling,” Irena sighed, as though she had lived a thousand lifetimes and each one of them was a major disappointment. “This forest, this town, it doesn’t want the fey anymore. You saw how they reacted to you, you know the stories they used to tell, the stories they still tell. As for the other fey, they can do what they want, you are my home, and now you have abandoned me, so there is nothing for me here.”

She turned as if to walk back into the woods and my heart burned in anger and sadness. How dare she turn her back to me; how dare she pretend none of this affects her. “You may not care, but I do, and mother would have as well!”

Irena turned and rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s always your mother, isn’t it? When are you gonna realize that she abandoned you? When are you going to understand that she abandoned me? If she loved this town, it’s just another reason to leave.”

“How can you say these things about a woman you don’t even know?” I shout. I feel my feet lift off the ground, so I am hovering above her, my magic propelling me upwards. “About a town you never took the time to love? You would abandon this forest realm without even trying to save it? I came tonight in the hopes of asking you for help, for a way to stop this from happening, but now I see that you’re no different than the dirt-crawlers in the village who stormed my house all those years ago. You’re full of ignorance and self-absorption.”

Irena looked at me and, in her eyes, I saw fire and heartache. She turned and fled into the trees. I sank down in the grass and howled at the moon until Cara came to me, carrying a warm round roll filled with freshly made blackberry jam. She guided me into our home, and we watched the fire crackle as we ate jam-filled rolls.

After tea, I turned to Cara. “You leave milk and honey out of the little fairies. Why?”

Cara sighs. “I grew up with the stories, you know. I have respect for the fair folk, or I know not to cross them at least.” This was the most we’d ever spoken, and this was the nicest she’d ever been to me.

“If that’s the case, why did you try to hurt me?”

“In the stories, changelings are bad luck, but not only that, when you came around my faith was shaken. I respected the old traditions in private because they were traditions, and I knew the rumors about the forest. So, setting out some milk and honey for the little ones was a task to ease my superstitions and continue with the traditions of my ancestors. But then, when you arrived, it all became too real. I could see the fair folk, they danced in my backyard for heaven’s sake!”

“But my mother, you knew she was a selkie, didn’t you?”

Cara sighed dejectedly. “Your father’s selkie story was fantastical, I just thought he got lucky and found her washed up on the shore,” Cara takes her cup to the sink, as if not bearing to look at me. I did not expect Cara to be so open with me. She had become gentler to me over the years but this, the blatant honesty and the regret and sadness within her voice made me wonder if had misjudged her.

“Why now?” I ask, never subtle. “Why do you say this now? After all these years?” An edge of rage creeps into my voice.

“Because I don’t want the forest destroyed lass,” Cara sits back down next to me. “And though we both trust each other as much as a cat trusts a dog, we need each other if we’re going to stop our forest from being bulldozed.”

My shoulders sag. “Irena won’t talk to me, she won’t listen. She’s content to move and leave this town behind. She even offered to take me with her. I fear most of the fey feel the same. And as for the humans,” I shrug. “You saw them at the meeting, they seem almost excited.”

Cara clicked her tongue. “I can take care of the townsfolk. You know your people better than I, but one thing the fey love most is a showing of good faith.”

***

I stand above a sparkling pool, its waters flow in a never-ending spiral, and tiny fey flit around it. Irena and I played here in our younger years. It was the entrance to the Fairy Queen’s throne room. I hold out a framed, charcoal sketch my father made of my mother. I feel my hands shake, doubting for the first time in forever, my own magic.

“I call the fey large and small, I summon thee with this hopeless call,” I received no response. I press on. “I ask for your help in a week and a day, defend the forest so our kind can stay,” this was the first speaking spell I’d ever done. “I make an offering to your feyish grace,” my hands shake as I release the portrait into the shining pool. It plopped into the water with a splash. I took a shaky breath. “This token comes with a promise fair and true, listen while I speak to you. I pledge to defend this forested realm until I die, or in doing so am killed. If I should stray from this path, may I face your eternal wrath.” I turn away from the pool and shove my shaking hands in the pockets of my brown linen dress. I desperately hoped the summoning spell would work despite the horrific rhyme scheme.

I didn’t sleep well that night, or the next. No fairies appeared in my yard that whole week. Cara was rarely home, usually visiting the townsfolk, doing her part, just as I had done mine. My sleepless nights were spent making charms and potions of strength and faith. I didn’t know who or what the man with the smile and the promises would bring to our town to help him build his factory, but I knew that we could use all the magic we could get. In just a few days, at daybreak, he would fell the first tree. I hoped that Cara could get through to the town’s folk by then, and I desperately hoped the fey had heard my cry for help.

***

The wind whipped through my dress as I waited, leaning against the cold stone of the old keep that marked the entrance into the forest.

“Get away from there, you’ll catch cold.” Cara’s teeth chattered as she pulled her shall tighter around herself.

“Do you know if they’re coming?” I ask, focusing on the horizon.

Cara shrugged. “I hope they do. Are your people on their way?”

I mimic her movements, moving my shoulders up and down. “I don’t know. They’ve been silent. I’m worried they’ve already left the forest.”

Cara chuckled and I looked at her with surprise. “I forget sometimes that you operate in a place between our worlds. The fey are creatures of suspense. They will show up at the last possible second.”

“Or they won’t.” I bite out.

“Or they won’t,” admitted Cara. “In which case, I still consider our cause a noble one. We owe it to the forest, and the fey, to at least put up a fight.”

“I would agree with you Cara,” a booming voice interrupts us. We look up to see a grinning man of middle age with thick black hair and a sparkling smile. He holds an ax in his hand. “This here,” he raises it slightly. “Was used to chop the wood in this forest for my home, and now it shall be used to defend it.”

“Thank you, Peter,” Cara said, looking up at the large man.

“Thank you,” I echoed, my eyes caught movement on the horizon. I touch Cara’s arm. “Look,” I point towards a group of shapes drawing closer.

“Why that looks to be the whole town!” Cara’s face lit up in a smile. I had never seen her this happy.

“Aye,” Peter agreed. “After you talked to us, we all agreed that this stranger could build his factory somewhere else.”

The town approached with all the noise of a rainstorm. Most brought weapons and the rest brought food: bread, sweet rolls, cold mutton, mugs of warm broth, tea, and more. Soon, people were eating and talking among themselves, their cheeks rosy with cold and giddiness. I wanted to join in the mingling, but I kept looking back at the forest. My heart ached and the briefest stab of anger and betrayal pierced my gut, was I not enough? Did my mingling with humans somehow taint me in the fey’s eyes?

Suddenly, a silence fell over the group, I look up to see the stranger and a band of gritty-looking men standing before us.

“Hello there everyone,” the stranger greeted us with a forced smile. “Does there seem to be a problem?”

“Yes!” I shouted, pushing forward to the front of the crowd. “You want to destroy our forest to make way for a factory. Well, this forest is part of our town and we won’t let you touch it!”

“Yeah!” The townsfolk chorused in agreement, and I felt a strange confidence take over.

“Well, well,” the stranger stepped closer to me, and I could see the grease in his hair. “Aren’t you a peculiar-looking thing?” He raised his voice to address the villagers. “Are you certain you want this strange-looking girl to speak for you? To take away the jobs my factory will provide?”

There was a rumble of uncertainty from the townspeople. Cara stepped forward and glared at the stranger. “Don’t give me that! We’ve heard of your factory jobs, the injustices suffered by your workers, and the measly pay you offer. You come to us presenting salvation when all you really want is our cooperation and our land!” This elicited another cheer from the townsfolk.

The stranger and his friends began to look nervous. The stranger glanced at a tall, burly man standing beside him. “Gerald,” the stranger addressed the man. “Chop down that tree.” the stranger pointed to an old, twisted oak on the outside of the forest. Gerald nodded and walked forward, swinging an ax over his shoulder.

He didn’t make it very far, I summoned my magic and blasted him backward. He landed on his bum with a look of bewilderment on his face. Everyone fell silent. At first, I thought it was my display of power, but after a moment I felt a hum of magic in the air. I looked around and found, to my surprise, dozens of fairies popping up all around the townsfolk and emerging from the forest. I resisted the urge to jump about in glee, and instead, took pleasure in the terrified look on the stranger’s face.

“Wh-who, who are you?” Blurted out the stranger, backing slowly away.

“I,” a musical, booming voice echoed behind me. I looked over my shoulder and see a procession of tiny fairies placing blue rose petals on the ground to form a walkway. The crowd quickly parted and a regal figure emerged from the trees. “Am the Fairy Queen,” states the figure, striding into view. Her skin is dark as ironbark and her eyes are as green as florescent moss. Her wings unfurl and the monarch patterning makes everyone take a step back. “I demand you leave this place stranger and never return; for this town is protected by the fey.” She didn’t have to finish her sentence before the stranger and his men turned and fled.

There was only silence after the stranger left. In that silence, the Fairy Queen made herself comfortable on a mossy boulder shaped like a chair. Tiny fairies fluttered around her as she helped herself to the food the townsfolk had brought.

“Aisling,” she said.

My head snapped in her direction and I stuttered out a feeble “M-me?”

“Yes,” she smiled kindly, beckoning me over with an orange nail. I could feel the townsfolk shifting their attention away from the fairies and beginning to talk amongst themselves, perhaps hoping to give the Fairy Queen and me some semblance of privacy.

I scrambled over to her and bowed my head before her. “Your majesty,”

“No need for that child,” she motioned for me to lift my head. I did but remained seated before her. “I have someone who would like to see you.” Without waiting for a response, the Queen snapped her fingers and a dark-haired woman with piercing blue eyes materialized beside her.

“Mother,” I breathed. Without thinking, I stood up and embraced her.

“I missed you so much,” she whispered in my ear. She pulled back from me and stared at me with eyes glistening with tears. “Look how much you’ve grown. You’re so powerful.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, blinking away tears. “But, why, how,” I shake my head. “What took you so long?” I blurted out.

My mother laughed sadly, but before she could reply the Fairy Queen interjected.

“If I may,” the Queen held up a hand. “There is someone else who wishes to see you,” the Fairy Queen snapped her fingers again, and a younger version of my mother appeared beside her, managing to look both proud and ashamed. “After you asked for our help, Irena came to my throne room and begged for me to help you and the dirt-crawlers of this town. Your cry for help, Aisling, was raw and true, but I had already decided that it was too risky. Irena helped me to see that the risk was worth taking,” the Fairy Queen took a bite of a blueberry-filled roll, chewing slowly; after swallowing, she continued. “She told me your story and of your fight. She admitted that she was wrong and selfish and that the fair folk would be just as bad as the dirt-crawlers if we abandoned the forest realm. After much discussion with my council, I realized that she was right.”

“Thank you for coming to our aid,” I bowed deeply before the Queen.

She nodded her head graciously. “I value your bravery, Irena and Aisling. In exchange for your foresight and true heartedness I have convinced your mother to cease her hiding.”

I couldn’t contain myself anymore, I rushed forward and hugged Irena.

“Aisling, I am so sorry,” she whispered in my ear. “I-”

I shook my head at her. “Please don’t apologize, the forest is saved, and the townspeople finally realized its importance. That’s all that matters.”

“Well, that and the return of our mother,”

I beamed, our mother.

“Let us throw a festival to mark this day!” The Fairy Queen called out. This statement was accompanied by cheering from both fairies and humans alike; for if the dirt-crawlers and the fey have one thing in common, it’s their love for drinking and dancing.

As excited as I was to join in the festivities, I had so many questions for my mother and so much time to make up for. “May I talk to you both for a moment?” I inquired to Irena and my mother. They both nodded and we found a spot to talk near the end of the crowd. “Mother, why were you hiding yourself from us?”

My mother smiled sadly at Irena and me. “My darling Aisling, it was so you would meet your sister. I knew of her feelings toward me, and I realized that if I appeared at the moonlit nights, Irena would have never visited you.”

Irena nodded in agreement. “It’s true.”

“I desperately wanted you two to find each other. The both of you can connect in ways I could never understand, I wanted both of you to experience that,” my mother grasped both our hands in hers. “I am so sorry I stayed away for so long, but I promise that I am here to stay.”

I nodded, too many emotions filling my heart to speak. I was, of course, upset that my mother had left me alone, but I understood why, and more importantly, I was grateful she was back.

“I’m so sorry for all my anger, for all those years,” Irena said quietly, lifting her gaze to meet our mother’s. “I was jealous and angry,” she bit her lip. “And I won’t lie and say I’m not, but Aisling loves you so much, and I love Aisling, and so I will try to love you.”

We were at a point where words were useless, and so we embraced each other, swaying to the music of the fey.

The End.