Simply a Fae

Prologue

The first time he asks her name is the first time she meets him.

He appears as she walk by the Færie ring that she has not entered because her grandmother has repeated so many times not to do so, and, curious of her presence, watches as she jumps when she notices him.

The girl recognizes him instantly. It is the Fae whose influence her village is under, the one the elders have told her and her friends to be wary about, for the people who have been seen walking away with him have never come back.

She does not know what he does to them. The villagers have never dared to confront him about it, never dare to address him at all. He is not evil: he sometimes speaks blessings upon the cattle, talks the horses to calm after a storm, ensures a good harvest to the farmers, and makes the flowers bloom in spring even when the weather is still too cold. He is, simply, a Fae, whose ways humans cannot understand.

"Hello, little one," he says to her as she stands very still, back straight, hands fiddling with the fabric of her skirt. She does not move away—she cannot. This, her grandmother has taught her, would be considered as an offense and she could be cursed, or he could take out his wrath on the village. She does not shy away from his stare, however, not even knowing if this will displease him or not.

The girl is nine, has the courage and recklessness of childhood innocence, the boldness of those who have not yet learnt how to fear; but she has been warned against the Faes, who like to toy with humans and play tricks upon them, so she does not defy him either.

He walks up to her, towering over her. She prays he will stay in his Færie ring as it feels like a protection, and fortunately, he does. He isn't too malicious to the youngest ones, she has been told once—just does not know if this is true or not. She knew a girl her age called Layna that had been caught a few months ago and has never come back to the village; her parents have cried all week cursing the Fae.

The girl summons to her memory everything her grandmother has taught her to ward off Faes, and to protect herself against their tricks. She does not want to be the next Layna.

He introduce himself as Chaol, although she suspects it is merely a nickname. Then, holding out a hand, he asks, "And your name, please?"

There is her grandmother's warning at the back of her head: names give power over people. The Fae is asking her to literally give him her name, and who knows what he'll do with it—he might as well use it to take her away, like he surely did with Layna. To all the people who have never been seen again. To her own mother, three years after she was born, even though she was too clever to be caught by a Fae's trick.

So she remains quiet, watching him with wide eyes until his own stare darkens, and he shakes his hand under her nose. "Your name, little one."

The girl pulls herself together. He might curse her if she doesn't answer. She gathers her courage, and, with the spontaneity of children who have freedom in their veins and do not bend to rules, she stretches out her hand back without touching his. "I am sorry, lord Fae. I haven't heard you very well. Can you give me your name, please?"

He looks at her with surprised amusement. "Oh, well played, little one. You're clever. Just for this one, i will let you go."

He retreats his hand, and she scrambles back as quickly as she can, bowing to him clumsily before taking her leave.

She had passed the Færie ring to go to the wishing well, even though the elders forbid the youth it's access, disobedient little child that she is. She had just wanted to wish for her father to allow her to wear her mother's necklace– "Not yet," he always says, "when you are thirteen." The little girl forgets about going there after that encounter. She goes back home, and her grandmother scolds her for having been gone so long.