A sharp pain suddenly appeared behind my eyes, then through my whole body. I screamed, not so much from the pain as from shock. It was a good type of hurt, like having a thorn removed. It made me feel strangely lighter, like a burden as being removed from me. I saw a flash, red through my closed eyelids.
It stopped.
I opened my eyes slowly, almost fearfully. Azara was openly staring at me, her mouth an O.
“W-what just happened?” I stumbled over the words. I felt lightheaded and dizzy, yet everything around looked sharper, and had a weird sort of aura around it. The aura was a slight glow, surrounding everything like mist, but I could still see everything clearly. Azara’s glow looked even more defined than before.
“You,” she told me slowly, like she didn’t want to alarm me, “are most definitely a faery.” Her tone switched to being a bit more nonchalant and matter-of-fact, like she wanted this comment to sound completely normal, “one with strong water essence, by the look of it.”
This really was all too much. Everything came back and hit me again, now that I knew for sure that it was all true. The world started spinning. I heard Azara call out me name, then everything turned black as I passed out.
Yeah. Look, you would faint too if this happened to you.
I woke up later; lying on my bed, my head hurting a little and my back was sore as hell. I blinked drowsily for a second, facing the wall. Ow, my back really did hurt. Why? Then I remembered everything again- surprisingly, I didn’t freak out too much. I probably hurt my head and back when I fell, I thought and sat up slowly. Azara was sitting n the ground, reading the book. And she was the size of a teenage girl, about my height maybe.
Huh? When did that happen? “Azara?”
She jumped, surprised, and turned to me. “Are you okay?” she asked worriedly, getting up and walking over to me, “you fainted!”
“Yeah, I know.” I said quickly, “Why are you, um, big?”
Azara looked down at herself and laughed a little, “This is actually my normal size. The Fae usually use the small size for traveling. This is what’s natural. It’s harder to use major shape shifting magic here though, so I hadn’t done it yet. When you fainted though, I got worried to I changed to my actual size and moved you.” Her expression became more worried as she looked me over, ‘how are you feeling?”
“I’m fine, except my back hurts really badly.” I avoided thinking about the whole being a faery thing,. I needed to just concentrate on what I understood just then. I didn’t need to ask any more question about faeries and such at the moment.
Azara glanced over my shoulder.
“Did I fall on it or something?” I shrugged my shoulder to stretch it out a bit and I felt… something. ‘What’s-“ I reached my hand behind my back to touch the hollow between my shoulder blades and felt something warm and hard, something that definitely wasn’t supposed to be here.
She bit her lip and with a worried little smile, “those are just your wings.” She was looking at me and speaking like she thought I was going to collapse again.
I groaned. Obviously the “not thinking about it” thing was never going to happen. I gently probed the wings, folded against my back. They were the things that hurt so badly, it turned out.
“You did sort of fall on them, and they’ve been concealed for so long that they will be stiff for a little while.” She told me with a reassuring gaze.
“Okay.” I said, and we were silent for a while. Questions were now spinning through my head every second. Nope, not thinking about definitely wasn’t ever happening. Azara was staring down and fiddling with her necklace, letting me take my time for once.
“So, “ I dragged out the word, “I’m a faery. Not human.”
Azara looked into my eyes, “yes.”
I nodded. I was just going to ask her everything now, while I was surprisingly calm, “why is everything all glowy?”
She straightened, sensing my curiosity, “You’re seeing Quintessence. It’s in everything. You should be able to tell what has the most pure Quintessence too.”
Uh huh. Right. “Quintessence?”
Her eyes got misty, like she was looking at something far way, “it’s the purest thing in the all worlds.” She gestured at our jewels, “We’re both wearing things made of almost pure Quintessence.”
I touched the gem that hung in the middle of my forehead, right above my eyes. It was cool to the touch and sent tingles down my fingers through my arm. “yeah, you never really explained Shaiils to me.”
Azara grinned, like it was her favorite subject for talking about, “well, we have a lot to discuss, don’t we?”
Monday, May 17, 2010
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Um, what was that? “I’m sure that there’s some other reason why they would have had this, Azara. Like…” Like what, exactly?
“There can be no other reason. It all makes sense. Well, that’s a least the thing that makes the most sense. Fae never loose their Shaiil, Margarite. We’re all connected to our Shaiil, and know where they are, all the time. There is a way to disconnect yourself from the Shaiil though, but the fae has to do it on purpose, and the Shaiil will always be connected to some…one.” She stared at me.
“Yeah. Right.” Okay, look, I had accepted that faeries existed; I had accepted my parents could be related to fae in some way; but no way could I accept that I was one.
“I could be just jumping to conclusions, but this was the only thing I could think of. Margarite, everything adds up correctly. Why Sora likes you so much, why you can live so well out here, why you have this book, everything!” she seemed excited by the idea, “You even have the mark. I knew that there was something different about you. I never really expected this though. Did you really not know anything about faeries, at all?”
I shook my head slowly, denial slowing down my motions, “No. I really don’t think that it’s true.” Look, I know that whoever’s reading this probably thinks, I’d love it if I was a faery, that would be amazing! Or something like that, but when someone actually thinks you are one, especially when that someone happens to be a faery herself, it’s kind of weird. Especially when you’ve been a human for, oh, you know, your whole life. My mind, that had been groping around for something to latch onto, that made sense, couldn’t think of anything better than, “besides, the birthmark on my shoulder is just that- a birthmark. Nothing special about it.”
“I truly doubt that, Margarite.” Anticipation gleamed in Azara’s eyes, “put on the Shaiil.”
“What? Why?” I stared at the thing, sitting on the floor, its beauty unbefitting its grimy surroundings.
She smiled, “just do it.”
Why was she so happy about this? Could she not see that I was kind of freaking out at the moment? I had just found a note from my parents, it had said practically nothing, I had just found out my parents were probably, maybe… faeries. Which, of course, would make me one. Couldn’t I just take it slow?
“Margarite, just put it on!” Azara repeated, answering the question I never got to ask. No, I go at her pace. Fast.I pick it up slowly, wondering when the magic’s supposed to start happening. Nothing happened. I breathed out audibly and gently put it on my head.
Oh yes, something definitely happened.
“There can be no other reason. It all makes sense. Well, that’s a least the thing that makes the most sense. Fae never loose their Shaiil, Margarite. We’re all connected to our Shaiil, and know where they are, all the time. There is a way to disconnect yourself from the Shaiil though, but the fae has to do it on purpose, and the Shaiil will always be connected to some…one.” She stared at me.
“Yeah. Right.” Okay, look, I had accepted that faeries existed; I had accepted my parents could be related to fae in some way; but no way could I accept that I was one.
“I could be just jumping to conclusions, but this was the only thing I could think of. Margarite, everything adds up correctly. Why Sora likes you so much, why you can live so well out here, why you have this book, everything!” she seemed excited by the idea, “You even have the mark. I knew that there was something different about you. I never really expected this though. Did you really not know anything about faeries, at all?”
I shook my head slowly, denial slowing down my motions, “No. I really don’t think that it’s true.” Look, I know that whoever’s reading this probably thinks, I’d love it if I was a faery, that would be amazing! Or something like that, but when someone actually thinks you are one, especially when that someone happens to be a faery herself, it’s kind of weird. Especially when you’ve been a human for, oh, you know, your whole life. My mind, that had been groping around for something to latch onto, that made sense, couldn’t think of anything better than, “besides, the birthmark on my shoulder is just that- a birthmark. Nothing special about it.”
“I truly doubt that, Margarite.” Anticipation gleamed in Azara’s eyes, “put on the Shaiil.”
“What? Why?” I stared at the thing, sitting on the floor, its beauty unbefitting its grimy surroundings.
She smiled, “just do it.”
Why was she so happy about this? Could she not see that I was kind of freaking out at the moment? I had just found a note from my parents, it had said practically nothing, I had just found out my parents were probably, maybe… faeries. Which, of course, would make me one. Couldn’t I just take it slow?
“Margarite, just put it on!” Azara repeated, answering the question I never got to ask. No, I go at her pace. Fast.I pick it up slowly, wondering when the magic’s supposed to start happening. Nothing happened. I breathed out audibly and gently put it on my head.
Oh yes, something definitely happened.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Questioning
"Are... are you sure?" I asked hesitantly, my eyes wide with shock.
"Yes," she said, rolling her eyes, "I'm sure I'd be able to recognize a powerful Shaill when I see one, considering I have one myself."
"Okay, okay." I said, surprised at how annoyed she sounded in this situation.
She sighed. "I just don't know how this could be... these are definitely something that humans would never find lying around. It doesn't make any sense... unless.,." she paused, and looked at me with a calculating look in her eyes. "no. Nevermind."
"What?!?" I demanded, annoyed. I hate it when people do that!
Azara, though, had walked over to the book and was flipping through the pages slowly. I had dropped it, apparently, probably during the little, ahem, breakdown that I had earlier. I sat cross-legged on my bed, watching her go through the book, looking at each page with narrowed eyes. The pages were slightly moldy and looked hard to read, but Azara didn't seem to be having any trouble.
“I’m trying to see,” she said suddenly, sensing my eyes on her, “if there are any clues where this book came from.”
“It’s from my parents.” I sighed. I had told her that before.
“Yes,” the faery sighed back, “but if we know where this came from, we know where your parents came from, and we know a little more on how they got the book and…” she glanced at the circlet, which she had gently slid from its shallow compartment onto the floor, “that. That’s the weirdest thing.” she stared at it for a while, than turned back to the book, turning paper quickly with a soft whispering sound and once in a while saying things quietly to herself, looking confused. She stopped on one page, reading quickly, with a sharp intake of breath.
I sat, impatient, waiting.
“This doesn’t make any sense.” She breathed. She looked at me carefully, uncertainty in her eyes. She looked back at the book. At the gem. At me. I exhaled slowly, then looked into my eyes, “Margarite.”
“Y-yes?” I stammered nervously. Her eyes had an intense look in them, though widened in surprise and confusion.
“Why does Sora stay with you?”
“Huh?” that was rather unexpected. What did Sora have to do with anything? “I don’t know. I rescued him from captivity, some weirdo liked to capture and keep exotic looking birds, and he just sort of latched on to me.”
“How old were you when your adoptive parents found you?”
“A baby.”
“Your adoptive parents, they just accepted you immediately?”
“Yeah, sort of.”
She fired another question at me. A bullet. It hit me hard.
“Where’s your birthmark?”
My birthmark? How did she know? “On my shoulder.” I said quietly. The strange mark on my left shoulder, that looked strangely like a flower. No one had seen it, because it stood out so much, I went through great means to keep it hidden. Why was she asking me these things? “Azara, what’s going on?” I demanded, fear and frustration covering my words.
“This doesn’t make any sense…” Azara repeated, “Unless your parents were fae, Margarite.”
"Yes," she said, rolling her eyes, "I'm sure I'd be able to recognize a powerful Shaill when I see one, considering I have one myself."
"Okay, okay." I said, surprised at how annoyed she sounded in this situation.
She sighed. "I just don't know how this could be... these are definitely something that humans would never find lying around. It doesn't make any sense... unless.,." she paused, and looked at me with a calculating look in her eyes. "no. Nevermind."
"What?!?" I demanded, annoyed. I hate it when people do that!
Azara, though, had walked over to the book and was flipping through the pages slowly. I had dropped it, apparently, probably during the little, ahem, breakdown that I had earlier. I sat cross-legged on my bed, watching her go through the book, looking at each page with narrowed eyes. The pages were slightly moldy and looked hard to read, but Azara didn't seem to be having any trouble.
“I’m trying to see,” she said suddenly, sensing my eyes on her, “if there are any clues where this book came from.”
“It’s from my parents.” I sighed. I had told her that before.
“Yes,” the faery sighed back, “but if we know where this came from, we know where your parents came from, and we know a little more on how they got the book and…” she glanced at the circlet, which she had gently slid from its shallow compartment onto the floor, “that. That’s the weirdest thing.” she stared at it for a while, than turned back to the book, turning paper quickly with a soft whispering sound and once in a while saying things quietly to herself, looking confused. She stopped on one page, reading quickly, with a sharp intake of breath.
I sat, impatient, waiting.
“This doesn’t make any sense.” She breathed. She looked at me carefully, uncertainty in her eyes. She looked back at the book. At the gem. At me. I exhaled slowly, then looked into my eyes, “Margarite.”
“Y-yes?” I stammered nervously. Her eyes had an intense look in them, though widened in surprise and confusion.
“Why does Sora stay with you?”
“Huh?” that was rather unexpected. What did Sora have to do with anything? “I don’t know. I rescued him from captivity, some weirdo liked to capture and keep exotic looking birds, and he just sort of latched on to me.”
“How old were you when your adoptive parents found you?”
“A baby.”
“Your adoptive parents, they just accepted you immediately?”
“Yeah, sort of.”
She fired another question at me. A bullet. It hit me hard.
“Where’s your birthmark?”
My birthmark? How did she know? “On my shoulder.” I said quietly. The strange mark on my left shoulder, that looked strangely like a flower. No one had seen it, because it stood out so much, I went through great means to keep it hidden. Why was she asking me these things? “Azara, what’s going on?” I demanded, fear and frustration covering my words.
“This doesn’t make any sense…” Azara repeated, “Unless your parents were fae, Margarite.”
Saturday, May 1, 2010
Sorry. Or not.
There was an extremely thin compartment in the book's thick back cover, and its little clasp had clicked undone, the material around it rippling slightly with a now-fading glow.
"What the hell?" I breathed, and opened it.
On the inside was a delicate looking silver chain circlet. Hanging from it, held in place by blue tinged metal, was a round, clear gem. It seemed to catch all the light around it, hold it inside, then send it back out, sparkling like the reflection of sun on water.
That didn't really catch my eye the most. Well, okay, it did at first, sparkling like it was, but what really caught my attention was the little folded paper, with one word written on it in scrawling writing:
Margarite
"What... the..." I repeated, picking up the note slowly. Azara
quickly came over, staring not at the note, but at the circlet.
"How could this be?" she murmured, along with something else, but the whole world for me had been muted. All I saw was this note. All the desperation to have words from my parents, words I understood, a desperation I never knew I had, welled up inside me. I cherished this moment. I would hear from them now, finally. Then I started unfolding the page, slowly, then faster and faster. And read.
Margarite
We're sorry
So, so sorry
We love you
We couldn't take care of you,
we had no choice,
we made sure the family we put you with wouldn't throw you out on the streets
we made sure they'd love you
We will find you again once we can
we promise
We love you so much
Your mother and father
These are the words I wished to be written on the paper sitting in my hands. Instead, it said:
Margarite
Keep this safe, and keep this hidden.
That was all.
No apologies, no names, nothing but a few quickly scrawled words.
Hey.
The paper was wet.
Oh.
Tears.
I was sobbing. Why? I never cry. Ever. I don't know why, it just doesn't happen. I felt rage inside of me too. They abandoned me, they left me with nothing to remember them by, no loving words or memories. This frustration and passionate rage I felt for them was sudden, so sudden some part of me was saying, "What's wrong with you? For your whole life you haven't heard anything of them... but maybe it was having no hopes, accepting the fact, then something making me think that they had left something behind for me, giving me wonderful hope... then the hopes were crushed.
"Margarite?" I heard a soft voice, warm and comforting. Azara was standing next to me, concern etched into her features. Underneath, I could tell she was excited about something. I couldn't talk about whatever this book thing was at the time though.
"Sorry." I sniffled, rubbing my eyes, They felt weird, all puffy and probably extremely red, considering they were a very light, icy blue before. Dark eyes don't get as red, right? Whatever. I'll bet I looked horrible. I don't really care though.
I took a deep, shuddering breath, calming down. I felt embarrassed about my little tantrum.
"Margarite... "
I looked at Azara. She was staring at the circlet.
"do you know what this is?"
"Some sort of precious jewel or something, I'd guess. Which could be why it's hidden so well."
"No.W ell, sort of. It's an Shaiil." She fiddled with her necklace.
I made the connection.
"Holy crap."
"What the hell?" I breathed, and opened it.
On the inside was a delicate looking silver chain circlet. Hanging from it, held in place by blue tinged metal, was a round, clear gem. It seemed to catch all the light around it, hold it inside, then send it back out, sparkling like the reflection of sun on water.
That didn't really catch my eye the most. Well, okay, it did at first, sparkling like it was, but what really caught my attention was the little folded paper, with one word written on it in scrawling writing:
Margarite
"What... the..." I repeated, picking up the note slowly. Azara
quickly came over, staring not at the note, but at the circlet.
"How could this be?" she murmured, along with something else, but the whole world for me had been muted. All I saw was this note. All the desperation to have words from my parents, words I understood, a desperation I never knew I had, welled up inside me. I cherished this moment. I would hear from them now, finally. Then I started unfolding the page, slowly, then faster and faster. And read.
Margarite
We're sorry
So, so sorry
We love you
We couldn't take care of you,
we had no choice,
we made sure the family we put you with wouldn't throw you out on the streets
we made sure they'd love you
We will find you again once we can
we promise
We love you so much
Your mother and father
These are the words I wished to be written on the paper sitting in my hands. Instead, it said:
Margarite
Keep this safe, and keep this hidden.
That was all.
No apologies, no names, nothing but a few quickly scrawled words.
Hey.
The paper was wet.
Oh.
Tears.
I was sobbing. Why? I never cry. Ever. I don't know why, it just doesn't happen. I felt rage inside of me too. They abandoned me, they left me with nothing to remember them by, no loving words or memories. This frustration and passionate rage I felt for them was sudden, so sudden some part of me was saying, "What's wrong with you? For your whole life you haven't heard anything of them... but maybe it was having no hopes, accepting the fact, then something making me think that they had left something behind for me, giving me wonderful hope... then the hopes were crushed.
"Margarite?" I heard a soft voice, warm and comforting. Azara was standing next to me, concern etched into her features. Underneath, I could tell she was excited about something. I couldn't talk about whatever this book thing was at the time though.
"Sorry." I sniffled, rubbing my eyes, They felt weird, all puffy and probably extremely red, considering they were a very light, icy blue before. Dark eyes don't get as red, right? Whatever. I'll bet I looked horrible. I don't really care though.
I took a deep, shuddering breath, calming down. I felt embarrassed about my little tantrum.
"Margarite... "
I looked at Azara. She was staring at the circlet.
"do you know what this is?"
"Some sort of precious jewel or something, I'd guess. Which could be why it's hidden so well."
"No.W ell, sort of. It's an Shaiil." She fiddled with her necklace.
I made the connection.
"Holy crap."
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