We share a conspiratorial smile before he ducks out the door and into the night.
“Shall we?” Fleur asks. I turn to face her and she’s holding a Mullein torch in my direction.
I wrap my hand around the candle and feel that same pang in my chest that I get whenever I think of my parents. The knobby, wax coated stalk in my hand gently soothing that ache. “Yes.”
Fleur grabs our cloaks from the hooks beside the front door and once we’re situated, I follow her out the door and around to the back of the cottage where we have a small plot of open space. She digs out two little divots into the earth where she stands up our torches, each one meant to represent one of my parents.
I watch as she pinches the wax at the top to create a makeshift wick. She uses the flame from the small oil lamp she brought with us to light both torches. Once both are burningstrong, she steps back in line next to me. Her arm stretches out to wrap around my shoulders and pull me into her side. I stand there against her in a comfortable silence as we both watch the orange flames overtake the torch, the slight warmth kissing our faces and chasing off the evening’s chill.
After a little while spent weighing the words, I finally speak. “Aunt Fleur?”
“Yes, sweet girl?” she whispers, almost like she’s afraid of startling the stillness of the night.
“Will you ever tell me more about my parents?” I can feel the way her body tenses the slightest amount. I wouldn’t normally notice it if she weren’t holding me at that very moment. I rush to backpedal, not wanting to completely ruin the evening. “I’m not asking for you to tell me tonight. I’m just wondering if there will ever be a time that you’ll finally answer my questions.”
She’s still and silent for a long moment before she lets out a sigh. “Yes, my dear. There will likely come a day when you will need to know the full story, and I promise you that I will tell you everything and answer your questions when that day comes.”
“How will you know when that’ll be?”
She looks down at me with something like love and grief swirled into one. “I’ll know. And so will you.”
And with that cryptic response, we go back to watching the flames as they burn themselves out.
I gently setthe lit oil lamp on my nightstand, providing just enough light for me to make out the words of my book. Anticipation sparks through me as I crack the tome open to where I’d left off previously, the smell of dusty pages fills my senses.
My eyes flick across the pages, reading the words aloud under my breath. “The termfaerieencompasses a vast collection of species that exist in the realm. The most commonly known are the Fae. These beings are the most similar to what you would expect a human to look like, except they’re taller, faster, their senses are heightened, and their ears are pointed…” I trail off as my fingers trace the shape of the ear on the accompanying image. It’s a beautiful raven-haired woman that I couldn’t ever see passing as human. Her beauty alone would cause her to stick out like a sore thumb. “These Fae also have varying magical abilities rooted in the natural elements. The two strongest families are the ones that rule over the two courts of the realm: the Seelie and the Unseelie. While all Fae are known to be tricksters and mischievous, the Seelie are said to be more benevolent than the Unseelie, their malevolent counterparts.” A shiver runs through me at the thought of the viciousness of the Unseelie. The image below this section of text shows a circle of grass and foliage with a line slashing through the center. One half, tinted with a golden hue making the greenery pop and look more lush. The other is tinged with gray and darkness. The plants more withered.
I skim through the pages. “The Faerie realm isn’t only home to the Fae. There are also pixies, brownies, selkies, boggarts, and kelpies, among some other more dangerous creatures.” I flip through, taking in the images of the creatures mentioned, skipping over the more terrifying looking ones. Some look cute like the pixies, a miniature little creature that could fit in the palm of your hand, some with wings. I find myself fixated on the kelpies with a feeling of wistfulness. I imagine the horse-like creature could truly be something beautiful to behold.
I continue to flip through pages, the words swimming across the page as my eyelids begin to grow heavy.
