Wings of Fate: The Lost Ones

The translucent dress did little to hide the naked breasts and thighs beneath it. Long legs hung in the air as though in mid-stride, revealing unpolished toes. Long auburn hair wove around a slender face offset by wide eyes.

She wore a silver glass wreath on her head and it reflected the glowing forest as she hovered before them, watching while her wings slowly flapped. The green and red shadowed wings were startling -- brilliant light shifted along their silver edges.

The faery looked like a newborn child of Christmas and autumn.

“Welcome Moirai sisters, we have been expecting you.” She said in a silken voice.

The three Moirai inclined their heads and Atropos responded, “Welcome Princess Shaylee. We are grateful you have chosen to meet with us.”

Princess Shaylee inclined her head towards Atropos and gestured behind her with a slender arm. “If you will leave your horses here we will see to them. My mother and father wait to speak with you at the river.” She hovered for a moment as she stared in the direction she indicated.

Her arm fell to her side as she turned back to the group, her eyes skimming over the faces of each person as the group watched her, but her faery gaze stilled on Raven as though searching for her.

Raven returned her gaze with a blend of fascination and weariness. Judging by the penetrating stare the faery directed at her, there was something about her drawing the faery’s interest. Without a word, Princess Shaylee closed her eyes and inhaled a deep breath. The glow around her deepened into a dark auburn ball and then she vanished.

Raven forced herself to ignore Lachesis’ stare. Atropos turned, glancing at each of them as she dropped the reins to her horse and stepped away. They each dropped their reins and followed her deeper into the forest. Raven looked over her shoulder at the horse she rode the past couple of days but Rohan didn’t seem to care about being abandoned.

Because the trees and ground were alive with the Glow of Twilight their group had no trouble finding the river running east to west through the middle of the forest. Shadows played against the surroundings, transforming everything into varying shades of yellow and green.

In some places there were balls of light moving in between the trees, and many, many more lights sitting on branches or bouncing in between them. Raven fell behind the group, dragging her feet and taking notice of the faeries around them. As they neared any faeries, the flutter of wings became visible within the balls of light, each one a different color.

Two faeries sat at the base of a tree as they walked by and their tiny heads turned to watch them go. Raven stared at them but kept moving. Several others fluttered behind trees before inching their heads around the edge of branches and trunks, peering at the group of visitors. Tinkling voices murmured indistinctly to each other and the tiny sound floated down from the trees as they passed.

As they drew closer to the sound of the river, a fiery red light caught the edge of Raven’s vision and she realized a faery had grown curious enough to come as close as her shoulder. Trying not to frighten it away, Raven slowly swiveled her head to the left.

Sunlit golden eyes, framed by shades of fire, widened in alarm. She wasn’t sure how to tell the palm-size faery she meant no harm and settled for silence; meeting its direct gaze though it was like looking into the sun. Pea-sized eyes ran across her face, lighting on each of her features. One tiny hand reached towards her, then, and with long fingers it brushed a gentle finger against Raven’s cheek.

His eyes were wide with wonder and pinched with curiosity -- but there was also sadness in them. Around them, everything faded into the Glow of Twilight and, because of the bright red glow of his body, Raven could see only him.

Are you the one? He asked, though his lips never moved and Raven only heard the light whisper of his words in her head. Unmoving, she answered in kind, hoping he would hear her thoughts as she could his.

The one? She asked.

His golden eyes bored into hers, staring into her soul. It was an uncomfortable raking of her mind and the need to shift away from his stare was overwhelming, Raven didn’t move. The one, he repeated, who will save our people?

The gold flecks in his eyes faded along with the brilliant light peeking around their edges -- turning into a dark haze. The darkness faded further away, replaced with a flutter of images. Raven felt drawn into the scene, sucked in and too frozen to either move or look away.

A colorful flurry of movement cascaded across the surface of her view, swooping like a thousand birds to the left before arching to swoop back to the right. It was a rainbow of movement with a thousand wings, and a thousand hushed voices. In between it all was the light hearted sound of tinkling laughter.

Raven followed their flight path for only a moment before a terrible shadow fell over the wings -- darkening their colors as well as the ground below them. Each of the little beings gasped and stared in terror at what hovered above them. Then they screamed.

Each of the winged creatures, the faeries, flew away -- beating their wings in rapid succession, terrified they would not be fast enough. They weren’t. As they fled, faeries fell from the sky and dropped to the ground -- lifeless.

And still the faeries fled and the shadow pursued.

“Laedin.” A velvet voice bounded against the trees nearest them like a patient breath echoing from the sky. The faery of fire leaped backwards, staring wide-eyed at Raven and then turned to flee into the safety of the trees, leaving nothing more than a deep-red tracer in its wake.

Raven stared after him, appalled by what she saw in his eyes. What was it? She wondered.

You will see, you will see…a whispering voice answered.

Turning back to the group, Raven met Prince Nicolaus’ gaze. He approached and looked up at her with Austin’s eyes, whispering as he leaned towards her ear. “That little faery was the most astonishing thing I have ever seen.”

You have no idea, Raven thought, hiding a grimace, wondering who else could hear her thoughts.

She watched him. His features were identical to Austin’s but they were still so very different. With Austin, she felt the need to protect, as though he needed it. Austin seemed young, frail, and lost.

Nicolaus made her feel as though he meant to protect her.

Raven’s shirt clung to her breasts. Her entire body was growing damp as the warm night air shifted against her skin, doing little to ease the stifling heat of the forest. When they cleared the trees they found the river flowing rhythmically in the night. Flat land and another cluster of trees edged the other side of the river some eight or nine feet across.

Two palm-sized glowing orbs perched beside the river on a log of blackened wood.

Raven moved over the grass as they approached the faeries whose heads were bent together in conversation. One of the faeries was female with oak-brown hair hanging to her knees. As Raven drew near, she saw there were fine streaks of gray mingling with the brown. Long, dark lashes framed honey colored eyes set inches above a wide mouth with thin, red lips.

A glass teardrop hung from a silver chain clasped around her neck, a match to the fragile crown perched on her head. The silver dress she wore was sleeveless, hugging her breasts before falling to brush the edge of the log where she stood. Large silver and purple wings inched far above the faery’s head, fluttering slowly.

The faery standing beside her changed the nature of the glow around them, into gold. Though he wore a crown perfectly matching his mates’, his was much thicker -- the engravings etched deeper, the fine curving spikes on top -- taller. The silver of his crown turned orange under the reflection of his cropped, flame-colored hair.

Eyes of blue crystal stared as they approached. He wore only a silver, translucent skirt brushing against his calves, and orange, red and silver wings. “Welcome Moirai sisters.” He said, bowing.

“Welcome Queen Rhyannon, King Oberon.” The three Moirai’s spoke in unison, inclining their heads in deference to the two faeries. Atropos turned to the side and waved a hand at the other three in their group. “We have brought with us Logan, Prince Nicolaus, and Raven.” The three of them inclined their heads as they saw the Moirai do and the King and Queen lowered their heads in return.

Another faery circled the group, approaching the King and Queen, and Raven’s jaw dropped. Long ash-blonde hair danced in the breeze as tiny lavender wings streaked with shades of blue flapped eagerly in the air. Several strand-like extensions of the effervescent wings straightened away from the faery’s back -- each with a tiny star-like sparkle of light at its tip.

The faery was naked. Chubby arms hung motionless above clasped hands and above all this was the cherubic face of a grinning eight-month old child. Small lavender eyes gleamed at everyone as she floated before them.

“Blossom will take you to a suitable area so you may rest.” King Oberon announced, waving a hand in the baby-faced faery’s direction.

Atropos inclined her head again towards the King and Queen. “Queen Rhyannon, I hoped to speak with you before we settled for the evening, as we will be unlikely to see you again before we depart in the morning.”

“Of course Atropos. Blossom, if you would, show our other guests where they can rest.”

Blossom bounced in the air with a giggle. “Of course, Queen Rhyannon.” She turned to their group and, in her child-like voice, asked them to follow her. Atropos touched Raven’s arm indicating a wish for her to remain. She watched the others following the orb of purplish light as they moved further away into the golden glow of the forest.

“Please, sit and be at ease.” Queen Rhyannon offered. Atropos moved closer to the King and Queen before sitting on the ground with her legs bent beneath her. After a moments thought, Raven pulled her ruined tennis shoes and socks off, stepped to the river and sat at its edge.

Rolling the legs of her blue jeans up to her knees, Raven stuck her feet in the river and let the cool water rush over her aching toes; lap against her ankles. Cupping her hands, she filled them with water and poured it over her calves.

“Is this the one you have been waiting for, Moirai sister?” The Queen asked.

Raven’s back was to them but she didn’t bother turning around to discover to whom the Faery Queen referred. She knew the Queen meant her. Atropos must have nodded in response because the Faery Queen moved on with another question.

“Are you convinced she is the one?”

“We are certain.” Atropos answered aloud.

Silence fell over the river, stretching for so long Raven turned to see what they were doing. Two tiny faces stared at her with wide, unblinking eyes. Giving no indication of movement, they rose from the log and drifted to Raven.

Two pairs of golden eyes swept over her face, noting her features -- searching. Raven stared back. When they reached towards her she didn’t move, being too tired to avoid their touch. But they didn’t lay their hands on her as the little red faery did and, instead, rested their hands inches away from her face. Liquid warmth materialized in her head and spread downwards through her body until it reached the cold water rushing over her toes.

In seconds the comfortable warmth exploded in her chest. Raven, unable to work her lungs or throat, was powerless to scream in pain. The night sky filled her sight as she threw her head back in agony, and digging her fingers into the softened ground offered nothing more than damp grass and gritty dirt beneath her nails.

And then the pain was gone. Raven sucked in a sobbing breath. Falling backwards onto the ground, she rolled into a ball, clenched her body against a renewal of pain and heaved in air. But the pain didn’t return. The King and Queen hovered above her, unmoved, staring wide-eyed at her. The expression in their eyes was shock. And fear.

They bounced backwards a pace and haltingly moved back to the log where Atropos still waited. She looked just as surprised as the faeries -- and just as afraid.

The Queen blinked slowly at Raven and then turned to Atropos. “For hundreds of years the Nymph Faeries have lingered here in the Woodlands. My husband’s great, great, great, great grandfather was the first King after our people traveled here from the place they were before, of which no one speaks.

King Bayronet was the first King and instilled in the Woodlands a protected land for our people. The Woodlands was safe from that which drove them here to begin with. Generation after generation of faeries existed in harmony here. We have given our strength and power to the growth of the trees -- from the tallest oak to the smallest sapling.

We have given our nourishment to plants needed for food, to the most beautiful flowers, to those flowers blighting the land as disfigured and unpleasant as they are; from the smallest hummingbird to the largest fish in the Delule River. From the baby raccoons to the oldest deer -- all reside here -- counting and depending on our remaining in the Woodlands for their protection and comfort.

It has always been the way.

A good share of the power in the Woodlands is due in part to the great beings ruling these lands. The spirits protecting the calmness of the air, the evolution of the Delule River, and the health of life have always been compounded by faery abilities to protect and preserve the calmness, evolution and health.

Several weeks ago this tree we stand on now was fertile, in growth and harmony with the rest of the land. A week ago the leaves fell from this tree, landing on the forest floor in great scores of decay. Today it fell over on its side, its flesh black and rotten. After so many Kings and Queens before us, my husband and I now stand on the first tree ever to die in the Woodlands. I have been informed, by others, there are now a dozen other trees whose leaves are falling, turning black as they rest on the forest floor.

Atropos, we know what is causing the death of the Woodlands and steps have already been taken in an attempt to undo what has been done, but the King and I are not as certain of the outcome of this war. Not as certain as the Moirai sisters,” she paused with a heavy sigh, “and because we are not as certain about the future, we are not certain how much longer the faery people will be able to remain here when it is unsafe for us to do so.”

“You cannot mean to leave, Queen Rhyannon, where can you go any safer?” Atropos asked, shocked.

“We do not yet have the answers.” King Oberon responded with a voice like liquid gold. “We were only just now discussing our options as your group approached the Woodlands. We were apprised of your arrival and were unable to delve much deeper into the subject.”

“What can I do to help alleviate these concerns, King?” Atropos asked. “There must be something my family can do to help your people.”

Silence floated along the river a moment before the King responded. “Our concern is not only the Woodlands passing into death, Moirai sister. Many other aspects concern us. As you are aware, the Woodland Nymph Faeries have in our possession an item of such sincere importance it has become necessary to kill others for the sake of its protection. More and more of the Queen Mother’s soldiers have traipsed through our woods, digging holes, and cutting down trees.

The men seem to be searching for something. The Queen and I have to consider word has gotten out about the item we are protecting. Following this logic would allow us to believe, correctly I am certain, this artifact is no longer safe here in these woods -- if on DeSolar, at all.”

Raven wondered type of artifact could be so important it required someone’s death. The soldiers deserved death, regardless of the reason, but for a material object? She imagined powerful orbs, magical spectrums, and all sorts of other nonsensical objects.

“How could someone have learned of the item you protect?” Atropos asked.

“We have no idea how the story could have spread any further than the length of our lights. But it has. Along with this particular concern, there are others of equal importance. We are losing our power here and the fragile health typical of our people. Last month a baby faery was born without breath in its body -- a thing we have never witnessed.” He whispered.

“Were you able to-?”

“No, Atropos, there was nothing we were able to do for the babe.” The Queen responded. “We could do nothing more than comfort her mother, Huleyni, in her grief. Our elder faeries are growing ill with diseases for which we have no cure. Several of these old beings will die within the week. The animals inhabiting these woods have left, there are no birds singing in the trees for the trees are dying, which means we are not only losing our friends but also our homes.” Queen Rhyannon sighed.

That explains the strange silence of the forest, Raven thought.

“Moirai sister,” King Oberon continued. “I appreciate that your family would like the faeries to stay in the Woodlands as this is our home and you are our friends, but we feel it is in the faeries’ best interest to leave as soon as possible. We understand, of course, your family is doing all it can and have now acquired an integral part of the war against the soldiers, but unless something changes -- we feel we must leave. We are, of course, still considering our options.”

Atropos rose to her feet. “We will leave you,” she said, “so you may continue your conversation. I implore you, Faery King and Faery Queen,” she whispered, “do not give up hope. The outcome of this war depends on all those involved in it, from the smallest sapling to the tallest oak tree.” Though she spoke of trees, Raven knew she meant the faeries as well as the gods.

Atropos never let her secret slip for even a moment and, because the King and Queen had yet to utter any clues about the Moirai sisters being gods, everyone must be included in the farce.

Everyone was hiding something.