The Summer Solstice

Chapter 5: Rue

    🦋 Rue 🦋

    The strips of iron laced inside my dress make it that much heavier. Though they are as thin as butterfly wings, they've been woven into each thread of fabric in order to keep me safe.

    Just as the Faie are not immortal, they also are not entirely impervious. Technology makes them feel nauseous and overwhelmed. Thick cream can make them become senseless, as if intoxicated. But iron is their worst threat. It wards off their charms and trickery, their entrancements and illusions.

    Since I was taken onto the Isle, almost all of my clothes have been crafted with thin strands of iron, another precaution so that I may live peacefully here. Once, I asked my mother why go through so much trouble to raise a human child in place of her own. I will never forget her answer— "There are some modifications easier to make than others. Hiding a human child is far easier than hiding a tainted Faie child."

    However, as she is not the one wearing an iron-clad dress, I find that this modification is much harder to bear than she could understand.

    "You look tense," Meryl whispers under her breath at me, as if reading my thoughts.

    We're in the middle of another lesson, this one on the history of the Isle. Thankfully, the Preceptor seems to be as old as the first Faie herself, so she doesn't hear.

    Reed, however, does. He leans over and smiles at me wickedly. "That's generous. I'd say she looks as stiff as a corpse."

    I bite my tongue. Reed is the only one daring enough to ever cross me. His father being the High General means he keeps good company with my father, which in turn means there's no real consequence for his actions.

    "Back off Reed, or I'll haunt your dreams tonight," Meryl hisses.

    At that, he looks horrified. Oneirokinesis is a feared Faie skill, one my closest friend happens to possess. The Pooka have their shape-shifting, but Meryl and her kind—the Wraiths—can enter dreams and wreak whatever havoc they please.

    Faie have gone to bed sane and awoken disillusioned, haunted by their dreams and the Wraith who entered them. It's against our laws of course, punishable by ways worse than death, but it's hard to find those guilty if the victim is mentally unhinged.

    Reed could get Meryl in significant trouble for her even suggesting it, but his pride would never allow for it. Or rather, High General Conan would never let his only son show fear of a Wraith.

    I try to ignore Reed's teasing, but some days it becomes overwhelming. Some days, I picture him as my target during archery practice.

    In the background of my thoughts, our ancient Preceptor drones on: "The Isle of Empyreal is something we contemporary Faie take for granted. Thousands of years ago, when we walked in the mortal world, we'd be caught, used, and bartered by humans."

    My ears perk up. Though I knew the Isle was crafted for safety of the divine descent, this is one history lesson I hadn't heard before.

    "Our abilities to manipulate vegetation, to move swiftly and without sound, to shape shift and induce illusions are among a long list of things we were forced to do for human bidding. You children may not know much of the mortal world, but surely you have heard the great tales and stories that erupt from their culture."

    Imery raises her hand. "Like mermaids?"

    Preceptor Laurel smiles. "Exactly. Thought of as fantastical creatures, humans claim they have a long fishtail in place of their legs."