It was a dark night, the full moon hiding behind a thick layer of clouds. Yet, its effects were felt in the small village, the surrounding fields, and the adjacent forests, even though the moon concealed its face from mortal eyes.
As darkness fell, the villagers had firmly closed their doors and windows. Polished iron horseshoes hung over the entrances of the small huts, and rosemary bushes swayed gently in the breeze.
At the third hour after midnight, something stirred in the sleeping village—a movement, almost too quick for the human eye. A flicker here, a whisper there. Figments of imagination, born from the shadows, if not for the clear, bell-like laughter echoing between the houses.
"Rosemary," grumbled a squat creature, no taller than a six-year-old child, with green-speckled skin, adjusting the bulging leather bag slung over its shoulder. "They plant that stinking herb everywhere. How is one supposed to work properly?"
In the midst of this tirade, a small light slipped under a door crack and hovered around the hobgoblin's head.
"Doesn't it make it more fun to tease the humans? They try so hard to keep us away, yet they always make mistakes. Like here, they haven't even noticed their horseshoe has fallen!"
The fairy laughed her bell-like laugh again and tugged her companion by the ear toward the door she had previously squeezed under.
"Besides, I found what we're looking for. A child. Unblessed and without an amulet."
At these words, the hobgoblin's dark eyes gleamed ominously. He touched the door with his long, thin fingers, and with a click, the latch shifted as if by magic. With a gentle push, the door swung inward, and the two creatures crossed the threshold unhindered.
The hut consisted of a single, smoky room. In the hearth, the last embers glowed, casting a reddish light over the people sleeping on straw mats. But it wasn't these people that the two fairy beings were interested in. No, they made their way straight to a small cradle at the back of the hut.
"They're rather ugly," the fairy remarked as they looked down at the sleeping infant. "I wonder what the High Ones want with it."
The hobgoblin only grunted as he pulled another infant from his bag. The pointed ears and black eyes clearly marked this child as another fairy being. Yet, even as the hobgoblin placed it beside the human child in the cradle, its features began to change until it looked exactly like the first infant. He now placed the human child in his bag.
"The exchange was successful," he muttered. "Whatever the High Ones have planned is none of our concern."
Just as quietly as they had come, they left the house and the village again, unnoticed by the humans. And when the first rays of sunlight woke the villagers, none of them realized that a child had been stolen.
By then, the two fairy beings had long since crossed the boundaries into the Otherworld with their prize.
YOU ARE READING
Changeling
FantasyEveryone knows about changelings-infants and children swapped with fairies in the night. It is widely known what happens to these fairies in the mortal world. But what becomes of the stolen human children in the Otherworld? Moira is such a child. Bo...