The Faerie Isles

Chapter Six - The Royal Palace

As they strode into the midst of the busy town, two things about Mel quickly became clear to Isla. 

First, judging by the way the Florinthians tossed friendly greetings at their guide, it was obvious she was familiar with most of the inhabitants of Wynbriar. And second, the manner in which the townspeople cleared the way for the little group, some tipping their heads and others even bowing in Mel's direction, convinced Isla that her and Robin's newfound companion must be someone of importance. Isla was no detective, but she considered herself observant, and the things she noticed were starting to pile up. She remembered the young woman saying she lived at the palace.

Who is Mel, really?  Isla thought with increasing suspicion. When she introduced herself, she made herself seem like just another Florinthian citizen. That's starting to look like a bigger and bigger lie with each person we pass.

Either way, Isla's short attention span was quickly taken advantage of by the overwhelming attraction she felt to this beautiful, friendly, and undeniably strange town. All probing thoughts surrounding the mystery of Mel's true identity were forgotten as Isla scanned the buildings and individuals around her. It was clear not all of them were human. Passing by what looked like a dimly lit tavern from which fiddle music and silkily sung (though somewhat suggestive) lyrics flowed, Isla glimpsed two small, stocky men clad in brightly colored fabrics with strange-looking instruments hung over their shoulders. They were standing at the edge of the crowd inside, watching and clapping as dancers swayed in time to the lively song.

When they turned to stare back at her, she saw one of the dwarves was actually a female. Isla had been misled by her long, snow-white beard, braided with flowers and grass. Her small purple eyes crinkled as she and her friend gave the girl a welcoming wave, and Isla waved back, delighted.

She felt a tugging at her elbow and turned to find a pair of wide blue eyes blinking at her. "Why are you standing here?" Robin asked over the sound of the music. Isla realized she'd been standing stone-still in the small arched doorway of the stone tavern. Shrugging and grinning at her new dwarf friends, she let her human friend pull her away.

"Isn't this place wild?" Robin asked, eyeing a group of laughing young people who were stringing flowers together. 

"Tell me about it!" Isla chuckled, still unable to believe her eyes. Everywhere she looked, people in the town of Wynbriar were strange-looking and happy and living their lives in a manner Isla had never seen back home. "There's such a feeling of camaraderie that just surrounds this place. I absolutely love it. I want to live here," she declared, and earned a hoot of laughter from Robin.

"You say that now, then one day some ripped, tattooed pirate with an eyepatch is gonna stomp up to you and slam his hands on the table and you're gonna be scared out of your mind, then he's gonna smile and ask for 'two dozen eggs for my grandma, please' and you're gonna die a little inside."

Isla smiled to herself. That did seem to be the mood of this place. In every shop, on every rooftop, through every window, humans and creatures of all different origins and backgrounds were laughing and gambling and trading stories together, completely oblivious to their differences or, in some cases, rather intimidating outward appearances.

Mel hadn't been listening to their conversation. She seemed slightly uncomfortable with all the people around the three catching sight of her and bowing. "Keep pace," she told the teens, and briskened her stride. Robin obeyed, and Isla, too, struggled to keep up. After the initial shock of shooting through dimensions and landing hard in a wonderful fantasy land had worn off somewhat, the girl found she was more than a little uncomfortable.

Florinth seemed to be in summer, just as their homes back in Delaware had been. However, back home, Isla and Robin would still be seated in her air-conditioned bedroom. The air here was humid and heavy, and it didn't help that they were walking through a crowded town where many bodies were pressed together. Wincing as her arm brushed someone's sweaty skin, Isla noted with displeasure that her back was itchy and her socks were very soggy. She wasn't the type to complain or nag, and she didn't want to make kind Mel more uncomfortable than she appeared to already be. All she could do was hope there were bathtubs in the palace.