Away with the Faeries

Chapter Twelve

 Birdy rested her head on my shoulder, listening intently as I began.

"Once upon a time long ago, in a land far away, where creatures of all sorts roamed, lived a girl."

As I spoke I could hear my mother's voice, feel the way her hand would brush along my cheek as she lulled me to sleep. The servants around us stilled, slowly they circled around, listening as I spoke of a long-forgotten tale.

"But this girl was no ordinary girl at all," I continued; "She was beautiful and kind, but most of all she was a Faery. Princess Briar, they called her until one-day tragedy struck her land and she was thrust upon the throne, her days as a princess was long gone. Queen Briar, they would call instead. The young Queen adored her people but was not meant to lead. Slowly over the years she grew estranged from her kingdom; for a long time, no one ever saw her. It was as if she had vanished."

As the words fell from my mouth the eyes of the gathered Fae grew wide. Servants huddled around on the floor, leaning in to hear more.

"Go on," Lyra urged, her braiding coming to a halt.

So I did; "Although she wished she had vanished, she hadn't. Queen Briar was still there, trapped and alone, with no clue how to save her warring kingdom. There was no one to save her kingdom, no one to save her. She had only herself," I paused, looking around at the quiet eyes that held steady to me; "A plan was put into action. Upon her five-hundredth birthday, she made the decision to escape and she did just that. Trading her jewels and crown for the worn-out leather on a servant's back she headed east. For a new kingdom, for a new life.

"There she settled, hiding from all who came looking. But it still wasn't enough. This new kingdom was one of humans and she was Fae. A Fae in a world of humans sticks out like a sore thumb. And so Briar cut off her wings."

Horrified gasps filled the air, teary-eyed Fae clung to their cloaked wings as others broke down into sobs. Birdy wrapped the cloak she donned tightly around herself, shuddering under the small enclosure. Maybe this wasn't the best story to be telling.

"Then what," Lyra pressed on curiously.

"Then Briar fell into a deep sadness at the loss of her wings," I paused for a moment thinking back to what my mother had told me, "wings for the Fae are their very soul, they are irreplaceable. They define who you are as a Faery. It's like losing a piece of your very existence."

That's what my mother had told me at least. I was six when she said all this and had no idea what she was talking about. But as the people around me bobbed their heads up and down in agreement I knew there must be some truth to the words.

I continued; "Through all the bad, however, was a human boy who had helped Briar when she needed it the most. Briar told herself that she didn't need anyone to be strong because all her life she survived on her own. But soon he thawed her frozen heart and they fell deeply in love. All things were as they should be for Briar and she lived happily ever after," I finished soothingly stroking Birdy's light hair.

"So the Queen is alive," someone asked from the floor.

Everyone shifted closer, anticipating the answer.

"This is a fairytale," I said, brows knitting, "It is not real."

All around voices raised at once in outrage, betrayal, and heartbreak.

"Queen Briar is very real Ms. Aubert and she disappeared twenty-six years ago," Lyra said moving out from behind me, "I don't know who told you such a tale but they must have been a very close friend of the Queen to know such things."

Birdy tugged on my cloak, "Is it true," she asked, eyes brimming, "is the lady Queen still alive?"

That was the extent of the tale I knew. I always fell asleep after Briar found love and lived happily for all times to come.

"I told you all I know," I said apologetically; "but if the story says she lived happily then she must have, right?"

Birdy nodded, seeming content with the answer. Lyra moved to where the crowd had gathered on the floor, shooing them off and back to their tasks.

"Say, Ms. Aubert," Lyra asked, "who told you that tale?"

She lifted Birdy from my lap, leading the pouting child from the room. Gazing at myself in the mirror I lifted a hand, delicately running my fingers over the complex style of braids.

"My mother," I said, a sense of wonder cast upon me at my new hairstyle, "her name is Louise Aubert."

"A human-like yourself?"

Nodding I stood, making my way to the arched stone doorway of the room. The castle was magnificent inside and out, I couldn't help but wonder what it was like pre-war. Brass lamps lined the walls, dancing flames burning within their smoggy enclosures.

Carefully I threw a glance back over my shoulder to where Lyra busily tidied up the room; "Do you know where Marcel's room is," I asked at last.

Her hand paused over a silver hairbrush, "It might be down the hall to the right," she smirked with a light shrug of her shoulders; "second door on the left."

As I began from the room Lyra called out to me again; "And Ms. Aubert," she began; "be patient, this war has taken from him the most."

That's not at all vague or slightly unsettling. Stiffly nodding I inched away from the room. Sure Marcel was a little strange but I never thought much of it. We all had our secrets, some we buried deeper away. Ignoring the aftermath when it came. Personally, I had a few secrets of my own. I liked pineapple on pizza and am a Slytherin. The latter I would take to my grave. I was a Gryffindor through and through. Online sorting house quiz be damned.

Nearing Marcel's room I was hit with a sickening urge to turn heel and flee back to my own room. But as I rounded the corner my eyes fell to the heavy oak door, and the small crack that invited me in.