Sink

Anastomosing River

I should have run farther. I should have chosen another place to stay. I was planning to leave. I thought this forest was protected. Known but inaccessible. It evidently is not. I should have known that my parents would scour every place bordering the Earthlands. I had hoped they would search the Waterlands first. They knew how much I loved them, how much I still do. They knew that from the day my tongue could form words, all I ever wanted to be was a water faerie.

It is impossible of course. Born of earth, returning to earth. One cannot change their make-up. I begged for the alternative, to live among them, our brethren of liquid. I would not have survived, my parents knew that. And so they refused. Worse, I do not think that was the reason they had refused. It had become clear they'd saved me for someone. The Prince of Fire. An alliance between kingdoms. I was to live in the lands opposite to those I love.

Earth and Fire are compatible.

"So are Earth and Water," I begged. I'm just a child. What do I know?

I never liked fire. For more reasons than one. I still don't light it, not even to cook. Out in the forest, I picked berries, ate mushrooms and herbs, caught miniature fish from dwindling rivers and had them raw. Now, in my shelter, I eat from the pantry, steering clear from the stove.

In my mind, a recent instant when the element had incurred my rage plays. We saw the smoke through the palace windows, higher than everybody else at all times. It was the moment I decided to leave. The fumes had come from this forest, the source an area other than the one I dwell. News came that an illegal bargain was made in the Firelands. Mother kills daughter in 'The Wood' with borrowed fire magic. It struck something in me. When I looked into my parents eyes after that, I knew they were capable of such things if I didn't obey.

A week later, I was gone.

Two weeks after that, another fire.

I hate fire.

I was sleeping in a mound of leaves when the stench hit me. When I arrived, it was too late. The screams had faded. The fire had faded. I saw the remains of the creature and I knew. I knew the girl was not killed by fire. She had killed with fire. She was gone. In her place, uneven ground. I am an earth faerie, whether I liked it or not. I knew burial grounds when I saw them. I knew Voice Shifter bones just from their scent.

Despite claiming to be emotionless, a depth of despair clung to me for days. I couldn't save the first girl from what I hated. I hadn't known her. I could have saved this one if I had been awake. I had known her.

I had watched her from afar since escaping to this place. I thought I was the only person here. I was too scared to establish contact, and look where that had gotten me. And her. Now I really am the only person here.

I didn't know I was capable of grief. It was the only explanation for checking on the girl's home but not laying in her bed, opting for grass and trees for another week despite knowing of a better shelter.

Grief was replaced by fright after the incident in the clearing. A part of me knew, even if I had never spoken to her, that she would have let me seek refuge in her cabin.

That is where I am now. It is the place he stands outside of. Her window is the one revealing the wicked gleam in his eyes. Her walls are the ones providing me temporary protection.

I know he is a master of illusions, it is his title. I know a locked door will not stop him.