The Little Fairy

The sound of our footsteps echoed through the forest, almost deafened by the sound of my heart racing. We were almost there, so close to being safe. Adrenaline rushed through my system as I pumped my legs harder than I ever have before, trying to escape the dog who was foaming at the mouth trying to catch us. “Kreya, hurry up!” Tyber’s words echoed ahead of me, fading as he entered the portal to our village. The dog’s teeth barely slid against my skin, and I made my way into the hole under the tree. I could see the dog growling and biting under the tree as he tried to grab at me for more blood.

“My stars, Kreya. You sure know how to give me a fright.” He paused and folded his hands against the furs on his chest. “I thought you had died out there.” His eyes were soft, but his eyebrows and lips were turned into a frown.

“I’m sorry. I thought I had enough time to escape.” I looked at him woefully, hoping he would forgive me yet again.

He groaned and grabbed my arm; a stream of red had been flowing down it and onto the ground below. “Let’s get you cleaned up before mom catches the colds from worry… again.” He grabbed my hand and took me to the creek right outside the village where he washed the canyon that had formed in my arm and he wound an old piece of cotton that we found around the wound.

“Thank you,” I muttered under my breath as I tried not to wince from the pain.

“Just stop getting yourself in trouble.” He started back along the path to the village. I wondered what the weeds and flowers looked like to the humans. They towered over us in such a way that it was hard to climb them without them toppling over like they do when the rain hits the dry petals.

“About time.” Mother threw her apron on the table and angrily put her hands on her hips. “Where have you been this time, missy?” She looked between my brother and me, hoping for some kind of truth to come out.

"She was helping me do the harvesting after school. I didn’t think to send a post since it wouldn’t be much longer.” He was so good at lying, he made it seem like he was telling the truth.

“While I don’t quite believe that I’m going to have to for now.” She turned on her heels and whipped her apron back off the table before returning to the dishes.

“That’s the last time I save your ass,” Tyber muttered into my ear before throwing the harvest onto the table.

“I’m going to go get washed up before I go to Tissa’s if that’s okay with you mother.” I clasped my hands together and rocked on my heels while I waited for her response. All I got was a wave of her hand without her even looking back at me. Sometimes I wish she would pay more attention to me, but as she says ‘You’ve always been trouble, Kreya. From the moment you were conceived, you caused me nothing but trouble.’ I don’t know what that means, but it’s something a child takes to heart.

I packed up my bags and headed to my friend’s house just down the way. She lived right next to the big oak because her mother was on The Board of Wings, which means she had more active rights among the fairies than anyone else. “Kreya! Up here!” She called down from her room at the top of her mushroom hut.

“Coming!” I exclaimed and ran through the door, past her mother, and up the stairs where she was waiting for me, a gleam in her eye so bright it was almost blinding. “So, what’s the big news?” I plopped my stuff down on her bed and sat down next to her.

“My mom said you and I will be in the ceremony of wings this year!” She squealed, barely able to get the words past the excitement in her throat.

“But we’re a month past the deadline.” I looked a bit worried. I don’t think I'm ready to get my wings.

“They’ve been monitoring us and our progress and said that we’re ahead of other fairies our age. They can’t stop our wings, Kreya. They come when they’re ready.” Her smile was infectious, and I couldn’t help but feel her excitement.

“You’re right, Tissa. I should be excited. The preparations are in a few days, right? The solstice is coming up soon.” I clasped her hands in mine.

“Yes! I have a few things that my mom gave me that every woman in our family has used. They’re very old, mom says I have to be extra careful.” She pulled a dark wooden box from under her bed. It had deep, intricate designs of flowers, swirls, and runes that looked at least 300 years old. I think Tissa said her family was one of the first families to have found this spot when they moved from Ireland with the settlers.

I traced my fingers along the curves and indents in the wood, hoping I wouldn’t leave any oil that would ruin it. “It’s beautiful.” I gasped, trying not to breathe too close to it.

“Would you like to see what’s in it?” Her smile slid across her face coolly and elegantly, like she has been practicing it in the mirror.

“Of course, I would love to see what’s in it!” I could barely hold my excitement. A 300-year-old ceremony dress, there’s no way I would miss out on something like this.

Her smile grew larger as she unlatched the chest, the smell of oak wafted out and filled the room with a strong, aromatic experience. I could barely see the tufts of sheep fur through the slit in the wood as she slowly opened the chest. I could scarcely contain my excitement, wanting to throw open the hood and just grab at everything that was in there, but I knew that I couldn’t because the items were fragile. Slowly the lid clunked on the floor and I stared at the contents, hoping something would come flying out. “It’s beautiful!” She cupped her hands around the soft furs and lifted them out of the chest, taking in the scent of the oak that penetrated the fibers.

“Are you going to wear it?” I asked sheepishly, wishing I had something of significance to wear to my ceremony.

“Of course I am, it’s a family tradition.” She held up the sheepskin shoes that belonged to the elegant gown, admiring the staining that had faded over time.

“I think it’s great you have a traditional dress.” I slid my fingers along the soft silk, wishing I could feel it against my torso.

“I’m sure your parents have something,” She said eagerly, hoping I would catch her enthusiasm.

“Probably, but not as amazing as this outfit.” I took a whiff of the dress again and gave it back, unsure anything could top this outfit.

Back home, my mother and father were making dinner while my brother set the table. “Did you have a good time, dear?” My mother called from the kitchen.

’Yes! Tissa has this amazing dress that has been passed down through the generations!” I could barely hold my excitement as I galloped into the kitchen.

“Oh, yes. I remember that dress. Smelled of sweet oak and ivy.” She paused from stirring the broth to reminisce.

“Honey! The broth!” My dad exclaimed, nudging her arm viciously to get her to continue.

“Oh! Yes, sorry.” She blushed and went back to her cooking; both of them mumbling under their breath like teenagers.

“I’m going to go get washed up for dinner,” I barely made it to the stairs before my brother bombarded me.

“You cannot go through with the ceremony this coming moon.” His eyes seemed scared and lucid.

“And why would that be?” I crossed my arms over my chest, smooshing the soft wool until it wrinkled.

“Your wings will not come in or when they do, they will come in dead and heavy and dark.” He gripped my shoulders tightly staring into my eyes intently. “Tell me you will run before you have to walk. Sneak out, do SOMETHING; but you cannot go through with the ceremony or our family will be cast out.” He shook me firmly, as he was trying to make his words enter faster into my brain. “Promise me!” He growled.

“I’ll try my best, but mother has been looking forward to this since I was born, I doubt she’ll keep her eyes off of me.” I shook his hands off of me and pushed past him on the stairs.

“Everything okay in here?” Father poked his head around the corner, drying his hands on a tea towel.

“Everything is great father, she was just telling me about Tissa’s dress.” He boasted a fake smile, hoping father wouldn’t catch on to his façade.

Father narrowed his eyes slightly but went back to the kitchen. “Hurry up and get ready for dinner. You have 10 minutes.” His voice carried through the thin walls. I looked at Tyber one last time before ascending the stairs, hoping our parents didn’t hear any part of our conversation.