Heir of Spring

A Discovery

Tamlin stormed out the kitchen, cursing the empty house. He walked through the hallway, paying no heed to the chaos surrounding him. Beneath his worn boots, cracked tiles were caked in dirt and beside him, broken furniture gathered dust. He entered the kitchen, filled with unwashed silverware and damaged tabletops. Any sign of all the cooks and maids who had once spent their days tending to his every need were long gone, leaving only a sad quiet, and Alis's knitting lying on the chair, that Tamlin couldn't bear to get rid of.3

He banished those thoughts from his mind and searched the cupboards for any food. A few jars of pickled things that he couldn't make out from the mould faced him. He left the kitchen and grabbed the bow and the quiver of arrows that sat by the door before making his way towards the edge of the house's overgrown grounds and towards the forest beyond, leaving his dilapidated manor behind him.

The forest was quiet as Tamlin crept through the trees, bow poised and ready to aim at anything that moved. After what seemed like hours, Tamlin glimpsed a doe through the trees, nose and ears twitching constantly. Tamlin moved slowly towards his lunch, barely breathing. He pulled the bowstring tight and aimed in between her wide eyes. Then, a loud cry intruded the tranquil silence.

Tamlin looked around, trying to find the source of the sound. When he turned back the doe had vanished, spooked by the sudden noise. Tamlin sighed and put the arrow back in the quiver, and set about trying to find the source of the noise. The crying continued, occasionally receding into whimpers or sniffles. Tamlin followed the sound, giving up on trying to be stealthy. He walked around a large tree trunk and saw, propped up against the trunk, a baby.

It lay wrapped in a cloth, clutching a flower blossom it must have found on the ground. Seeing Tamlin, the baby's cries stopped, and it stared at him curiously. Tamlin stared right back, but she did not break his gaze. Getting a proper look at the fae, Tamlin immediately thought it was as if the Court of Spring had somehow turned into flesh. The youngling's skin was tinted green, and wild red hair grew from her head, adorned with flowers and vines in every colour. Little wings sprouted from her back, but not huge bat wings like the ones he had grown to resent, but bird wings. He supposed they were a bit like Peregryn wings, but more delicate, and colourful. It looked so innocent, but Tamlin could see mischief dancing behind the big blue eyes.

Tamlin looked around for a mother or father, but there was none. Tamlin decided the parents must be foraging or something in the woods and had left their child in the nook of the tree for safekeeping. They should know better than to leave a baby in the woods, especially one so young.

Tamlin sat beside the child and started sharpening his knife. He thought he would wait here until the baby's parents got back, otherwise, any manner of creature could easily get to her and kill her. Every now and then the baby would giggle or gurgle, and her little wings would flutter with delight at something Tamlin could not see. Eventually, he hunted in the undergrowth around the baby, and when he finally ushered a rabbit from its hole, he picked it up and wrung its neck. At least now he had got what he came for in the first place. He placed the dead rabbit in his bag and sat back beside the youngling. Tamlin took another look at her and saw her staring at him again, horrified. The purple flower hung limply in her hand. Her bottom lip quivered, and her little mouth turned downwards in a frown. For some reason, Tamlin felt uncomfortable with her disappointed eyes boring into his.

"Well I have to eat, don't I?" He said gruffly, averting his eyes from hers. The baby stayed quiet, eyes still wide and shocked.

"Stop. I have better things to do." Tamlin didn't know whether he imagined her eyebrows raise at his lie. To be honest, Tamlin thought, he'd rather be out here than by himself in that empty crumbling manor, with only his depressing memories for company. So Tamlin sat beside the baby, occasionally speaking to or playing with her until the sun started to sink beneath the trees.

Tamlin wasn't sure what to do. He was starting to doubt that there were parents out in the forest coming back to get her. He called out into the darkening trees,

"Hello? Is anyone there? Your baby..." He looked back at her. Her eyelids were starting to droop, and she yawned, showing slightly pointed teeth. No good parent would leave their child in the middle of a forest for a whole day. Maybe they were killed, or they couldn't find her, or maybe they just didn't want her anymore. Either way, Tamlin couldn't leave her here. He picked her up and cradled her like he'd seen his mother hold his sister. The baby looked slightly alarmed but didn't make a sound.

"Don't worry, you're coming home with me. I probably need some company anyway." He whispered, rocking forwards and back slightly, like how his mother held his brothers when he was little. "I'll find your parents in no time." Tamlin thought that she would need a name while staying with him. He looked down at the faerie, who was now sleeping in his arms, still clutching the flower from before. Tamlin took a closer look. He was pretty sure it was an Aster, with long violet petals and a yellow centre, although it was slightly wilted from her constant touching. "I'll call you Asta then." He said to the sleepy bundle and made his way back towards the house.