The Faedog

The Sound of Thunder

He approached my domain cautiously, his weapons of entrapment under his arm.

"Hello-oo? I'm Tomas!" The boy set the goods down and yelled. He yelled for hours on end as he looked under rocks and peered at the top of the lone tree that stood vigil over the lake. At one point he almost fell into the water and I laughed and giggled with mirth the whole time, leaving my voice just shy of his ears. The red of his cheeks, the disappointment in his eyes; it was worth hiding to witness those little joys. Eventually, Tomas departed, leaving the small basket of goods to sit out. Ants took their fill, and a bird or two went pecking by, though of all the animals of nature they were my least favorite.

I moved in the early hours of the morning, while the dew was fresh on the basket and sparkled like a million pieces of shattered crystal. I hadn't understood why my brethren would help the humans in their homes when I first saw the ugly little lumps of brown or the overly white milk that had started to yellow. If the ants deigned to try it, why couldn't I?

It would have been hard on the outside, but the birds and dew had clearly conspired to get me to try the cookie, as the inside was moist and accessible. The milk had been set in a small wooden cup and smelled foul by the time I went to it, a sip told me it was no longer fresh but wasn't terrible. It didn't have sweet chords like the cookie, or even much of a melody, but I took a liking to it until I inevitably sang along with it. It is hard to say whether my interest in Tomas made me enjoy the treats, or the offering helped to rekindle my interest, but entrapment or otherwise the boy had me hooked as much as the log had been previously.

Hours later, well after the sun had risen and the remainder of the gifts had been taken by nature, Tomas returned. Here I must stop to explain something, for you may undoubtedly be puzzled if I don't. The basket of goods had been set out, but not specifically for me. The basket was unnamed, the boy had never called out for a "fairy" despite his incessant yelling, and while I took part in the receiving of said gift I was not alone. "But Pyr!" You may protest. True, it would be fair to assume that I knew it was intended for me, but those who make assumptions of the Fae are often left empty-handed, or occasionally, with no hands left at all. All of this leads to the point that I owed Tomas nothing for his attempted bribe, but I deigned in my good graces to give him something regardless.

Tomas moved with as much energy as his previous visits despite the earlier than normal hour. His eyes were no longer full of sadness but had a hunger to them as he stalked towards the remains of the little basket. I took my time stretching, letting the soft rays of sunshine warm me as I did. Tomas moved the crumbs and bits, before upturning the basket completely. Clouds blotted out the sun and a crack of thunder roared out from beyond the thick woods to the west.

"To-mas," I said. I spoke softly, and I stretched out the space between the syllables intentionally.

Tomas fell back, the basket dropping from his grip as he locked eyes with me. I've been told my gaze is like that of a lightning strike, entirely too bright and done with just as fast. I've been told that my face could haunt nightmares if only to make them a bit more bearable. Tomas was the first human I had looked upon and allowed to look back, and I was pleased by the result.

"You! Your voice, you're the one from before." Tomas said. His voice squeaked as he spoke and he moved to stand.

"I may be, I may not. What would you have of me child?" I asked.

"No, it's you!" Tomas replied.

"So sure of yourself. You have met others of my kind in the wild?" I asked. Though his nature was beginning to frustrate me.

"I suppose not. But you sound like the whispers I've heard lately. You asked what I wanted, what do you mean?" Tomas marveled at me as he spoke, his eyes studying me the way a fish might look at a lure. In this moment as the lightning cracked behind us and droplets soft and warm fell, he had become as captivated in I, as I was in him.

"You left gifts, and have pestered the air with your words as of late. Clearly, you look for something, I hope you don't assume you shall have me beguiled." I said.

Our conversation felt circular. He still had the wit I had seen at a distance but like his hair, it was far duller up close than when witnessed from afar. Another crash of thunder split the wind and the rain came crashing down what had started as light drops quickly escalated. Behind that thunder crack was something that Tomas hadn't noticed, hadn't known to listen for. A horn blew out, fading as the thunder did.

As far as I can tell, Tomas never stopped looking at me. It was faint but there was sadness behind his eyes and fear. I soon realized as he struggled to speak, that the wet on his face was from more than just the rain-storm.

"My sister, she's sick. Nothing my pa' and ma' have done has helped. If you want to know what I want, that's it." My brethren hadn't mentioned that, and it made sense that they wouldn't. Sickness was such a trivial thing to our kind.

Another peal of thunder and another blast from the horn hidden behind its deep rumble. Two horns, that couldn't be good. At that moment I thought of the last time more than one horn had sounded and--

"Tomas, I will see to your sister's health, now hurry home out of the rain. This area is soon to be defiled."

"What do you--" Tomas began.

"I said go child of man!" My words were accented by another blade of golden light that crashed into the woods not far off. I had lost the patience to play the game of words that I so loved playing.

If our first and last meetings would be defined by laughter, tears, and desire; then our second was surely defined by worry, dread, and a desire of a different sort.

Tomas didn't try to argue, he didn't look back as he fled the area of our meeting, and he didn't see the banners that began to swarm the lakeside.