Tears of Avalon

Chapter 3: Tears of Avalon

"W-What? What do you mean we're leaving?" Ilyia asked. She skirted around her mother's bed and grabbed the clothing that had already been packed. "This is our home."

"It's not safe any longer." Her mother picked up a bundle of wood and stone tools. She started to pack those as well until she noticed Ilyia removing her clothing. "Put them back."

"No! No, you can't!" Ilyia clutched a shirt to her chest and backed away from her mother. "This is our home. Why are you doing this?"

Her mother sighed. "You don't need--"

"I have a right to know!" Ilyia shouted with such force her wings glowed bright blue. She threw the clothing down onto the bed. "I am your daughter, and I should know the truth behind why you're trying to uproot us. And don't just tell me it's because this Merwellian fairy is getting closer to home. There's more to it than that." She stared hard at her mother. "How do you expect me to trust you with my safety if you won't even tell me the truth?"

It was a harsh thing to say, but it did give her mother pause. Her mother stared down at the items in her hand and slowly placed them in her bag. But she didn't grab anything else. Instead, she stood beside her bed, her wings twitching with agitation, a quirk Ilyia was more than a little familiar with.

After a long, terse moment, her mother sat down on the side of the bed, shoulders slumping. "I had hoped I would have more time before I had to tell you."

Ilyia lifted her head, surprised. Was her mother actually going to open up? She always seemed so secluded, secretive, almost sad. Ilyia wasn't going to squander this opportunity.

She pulled a twig chair over to the bed and sat down facing her mother. "Tell me," she begged. "Who is Merwellian? What was the gem that the raven was wearing? What war is happening? Why won't you tell anyone about my magic? Why were you banished?"

"One question at a time, Ilyia," her mother said, holding up her hand. She glanced away. Her wings twitched a little more. "I think it would be better if I started from the beginning, so you can understand why I did the things I did. And why your father..." She shut her eyes tightly.

Ilyia's heart pounded in her chest. She knew so little about her father. All her mother had said was he'd died when she was very, very young. There were no paintings of him, or memorable items. It was as if he had never existed at all; Ilyia was the only proof.

She scooted closer and clasped her mother's hands. "Tell me. Please."

Her mother heaved a sigh. She freed one of her hands from Ilyia's grasp and waved it in the air. Water trickled from her fingers, turning into a rippling disc. "Fairies are a proud people," she began. "We enjoy perfection and purity. Every fairy has a duty, and a purpose. But that was never true for fairies born without wings." She turned her fingers and images started to appear in the water. Fairies with dazzling wings formed on one side, and a sparse few fairies without wings appeared on the other. "Wingless fairies were shunned. There were prophecies written by fairies of old and phoenix oracles that said the wingless fairies would bring nothing but despair to a glen. Some said fairy Trees had died at the hands of the wingless ones."

"How is that possible?" Ilyia breathed, watching as the images danced in the water. "How could they kill the Tree? And how could they even be born without wings?"

"They say it's a curse," her mother replied. She waved her hands and created the image of Medira's Tree. It was beautiful with its long, willowy branches and glistening leaves. The leaves looked as if they'd been painted by a rainbow. It was like no other tree Ilyia had ever seen before.

"Our magic comes from the Tree. When a babe is born, she's brought to it and given magic...her elemental gift. The Goddess resides within and she happily blesses the children. If a fairy is not brought to the tree, she might live without magic the rest of her life. But...she's not viewed as evil. The wingless fairies though..." She shook her head. "Horrible things always befall them. A tragedy. An accident. Most never survive into their adult years. No matter how many times it's been tried, if a wingless fairy is brought to the Tree, she never receives her wings. If anything, she'll drain the Tree of its magic to survive."