“There used to be. There were sidhe— fairies of the underground. There were also water fae, who lived in pools and rivers, and brownies— household fairies who used their powers to help humans. If I had to list all the fae that ever lived we’d be here a long time, I expect.”
“Do they no longer exist?”
“No one knows.” I shrugged. “They haven’t been seen for hundreds of years. The only fae on record that we know are still alive are the Seelie.”
“Can you tell me more about the night court?” Emma asked. She crossed her legs and held her ankles.
“The Unseelie were known as tricksters. And according to the stories, they were ruthless.” I felt a shiver creep up my spine. “They were quite malevolent, and their dark magic was rumored to be so powerful that even the gods feared them. They worshipped Droga, and had other shifter forms than us— dark creatures that could manipulate shadow.”
“Do the Black Claw worship the Unseelie or something? They sound very similar,” Emma questioned.
“The Black Claw actually claim to be the last living descendants of the Unseelie that died out long ago. They see it as a sort of genocide that the Unseelie were wiped out, and wish to restore what’s left of the bloodline back to power.”
“Well, they’re going about it in the wrong way,” Emma mumbled.
I laughed lowly. “You could say that.”
I waved my hand around. “This was the place where the Unseelie were finally defeated, but before they fell, they cursed Malovia to a cruel end, and used their dark magic to seal the curse. The priestesses bless this area every year to keep the Unseelie curse from spreading further than this valley, though the Willow Maiden absorbs most of the dark energy and turns it into white magic.”
“So what’s the deal with the tree?” Emma looked up. “It’s definitely not ordinary.”
“A very old story.” I leaned in closer. “There was a priestess called Jadwiga Waldemar who swore to keep the Unseelie magic bound within the valley. A shifter fell in love with her, and tried to steal her away.” I shrugged. “When she left the valley with him, she succumbed to a terrible affliction and died. The shifter could not take from the valley what was never meant to leave, and Jadwiga was committed to keeping her vow, even if it meant her death.”
“That’s horrible.” The color drained from Emma’s cheeks.
“When he returned her body to the valley, it took root, and grew into the willow.” I ran my fingers through a few fronds. “Jadwiga kept her promise and is protecting the valley even to this day.”
“It’s a beautiful story, but a little creepy. No way I could be a tree forever.” Emma shook her head. “Only the Arcanea have tales this weird.”
“There are other magical cultures where women have become trees. It’s quite common, actually,” I said.
“I swear if I become a tree in any way, shape, or form, I will wait for you to come by so I can beat your ass with my branches, because it was probably your fault,” she grumped.
I laughed again. “I doubt that’s going to happen. As far as I know, Jadwiga is the only Arcanea who ever changed in such a way.”
“Thank the gods.” She ran her fingers over the bark again. “Can you tell me more about ancient fae? How are they different from us?”
“Not much has changed. Though we’ve integrated with the humans so much, some of our customs have been forgotten.” I put my back against the Willow Maid. “Fae used to be extremely tricky. Our favorite thing to do was mess with humans. The reason we have illusion magic is to fool humans. We’d make fae circles out of mushrooms and create portals to Edinmyre they’d get lost in, or give them bad contracts that were worded in such a way it ended up turning out awful for the person that asked for help. We also used to take their babies for our own, so they could mate with our kind and leave changelings in their place.”
“That’s fucking horrible!” Emma burst in disgust.
“Nobody ever said fae were nice,” I pointed out. “We have a bit of a bad rep in the magical community.”
“I can see why.” Emma huffed. “Are there any other ridiculous fae customs?”
“This tradition has died out, but the fae didn’t like sayingthank you.If a deed was done, the fae wanted you to remember it, instead of expressing gratitude. In the ways of the old magic, nothing was ever given without something in return. Gifts were never truly gifts, as nothing was ever given for free. It was once our greatest law. Then we left Edinmyre, and if we wanted to assimilate among the humans, we needed to change.”
“Why would you want to? The fae had tremendous power. I don’t see why they needed to blend in with humans if they had all this magic to use against them.” Emma wrinkled her nose.
“They did have one thing against us. They had iron.”
“What’s that got to do with anything?” Her eyes narrowed.
“Iron is poisonous to fae. We can’t touch it without being burned,” I said. “I still have a scar on my hand from accidentally scraping it once as a child.” I lifted my palm and pointed to it— just before my thumb was a blotchy red scar that would never quite go away.
“But we use steel swords, and that comes from iron,” she pointed out.
“With fae, specific words mean specific things. That’s how illusion magic works. It’s how fae were able to trick humans into bad contracts for thousands of years,” I explained. “When iron is tempered into steel, it becomes something different. The quality of the metal and its compounds are broken down, making it safe for us to use. But iron in its purest form is highly deadly to fae. That’s why we use other metals to make our weapons, like bronze and copper, and avoid using it to construct our buildings as much as possible.”
