Away with the Faerie - Naomi M-B (bookstand for reading .TXT) 📗

replied. “I am a Warlock. We’ve met before.”

Warlock… I knew many Warlocks. I liked them better than most humans. They worked with nature rather than against it.

“You’ve brought a sickness to my home,” he told her. “I want you to banish it.”

Home… Oh… you’re the Storm fighter. I remember now. I watched you. I like you. So selfless. So naïve. Why should help you? We are at war.

“The war must end. It’s going on too long. Surely whatever you did to start it can be ex-”

What we did? What we did? Is that what those silly humans are saying? That we started the war. Yes, we declared it. But did we start it? No. The voice was becoming agitated. The plants and trees were beginning to tremble. No. Humans started it. When they took my girl. When they cut of her wings and made her serve them. They started the war!

“Tell me what we can do to end?” Tarentell shouted. “Please! I want nothing but peace! We all want peace! Maybe if we catch the ones that wronged you? If we punished them?”

You think a human who dared to harm a Færie still breathes? No. They did not live to see this winter’s frost.

“Then why is the war still happening?”

Because when we demanded recompense. The humans defended their own. When we killed the ones responsible they saw it as a declaration of war. This will not end until the humans pay for what they did.

“What do you want then? How can we pay?”

There was silence as the Færie thought it over. A sacrifice. Someone with skills that match a Færie must give themselves up to us. They must die, slowly, feeling their strength sap away knowing that the hearts of all those that love them are dying with them. That is what we want.

Promise me, Myah had said. Promise me you’ll try your hardest to come back safe.

“I’ll do it.” Tarentell dropped his pack to the floor. “I’ll do whatever you want.” Again there was silence.

What makes you think you have the skills to match a Færie?

“Test me and we’ll find out,” he replied.

Very well, little Warlock. Show me… fire.

Frowning, he lit his hand ablaze. Was it really that easy?

That’s a fire, that’s a blaze. A simple flickering bundle of heat and light. I want fire. I want an inferno.

What? Did she want him to burn the whole forest down? Gritting his teeth, he allowed the fire to spread across his whole body. It longed to spread further and further, eating all in its path. Hand balling into fists. No. He had to suppress it. He had to keep his mind empty and his emotions under-

Oh.

That was it.

Of course it was. It was obvious.

A Warlock with the skills of a Færie. What made a Warlock different to a Færie? Their emotions. Færie powers changed the world around them on the whim of the Færie, they let their hearts run wild while their rational thought took a back seat. Humans, Warlocks especially, were the opposite. To think with your heart was deemed foolish. Childish. Stupid.

But that was why Færie were so much stronger, because they had no mental shackles keeping their powers bound.

Let it out.

He had to let it out.

Beginning to shake, he took several deep breaths, feeling the flames on his skin, tasting the smoke. What was he feeling? What made him feel?

Rowan.

Rowan made him feel. Rowan who seemed like fire incarnate sometimes. Boundless energy with a passion that burned as bright as a star. Rowan whose heart was always worn on his sleeve despite everything that could hurt him. Rowan that lay dying as he struggled. He wasn’t going to let him die. Not after everything.

First came anger. It was the most like fire. Bright and passionate. How dare they hurt Rowan?! How dare they hurt anyone? How dare those idiotic humans start all of this? How dare anyone do anything to threaten the people he loved?!

The fire exploded outwards. His mind was swirling. The automatic reaction to keep everything contained was hard to suppress. But it would be. Because this was what he had to do.

A shout ripped from his mouth as he forced everything that couldn’t be said or thought into sound. Into something to expel from himself.

How long was he like that? He didn’t know. When the fire eventually died down he was on his knees, his throat felt raw.

Now that’s fire… It would be such a pity to quench a flame like that. Are you sure you want to do this?

“I have to.”

What might have been a sigh rustled the leaves around him.

Very well. The light seemed to bend, changing and morphing. An impossibly long fingered hand reached out from the air. It touched to fingers to his temples. His body shone and he gasped. One touch from you will banish the sickness. It is up to them to struggle back to health. But, one day after the last person has healed, this power will turn against you. Your strength will fade and your mind will die. Then, the war will be over. Now go.

A wind ripped through the trees. Whatever magic that had been there moments before was now gone.

It was just as she had promised. A simple tap sent a green glow shooting across their skin. It dissolved the green rash instantly. Many of the older generation died anyway. Their health had already been failing and this was the last straw.

Ignoring his personal desires, Tarentell worked methodically, treating the hundred or so in order of how sick they were. He refused to move on till he was certain the green rash was gone.

Finally, he reached Rowan. Bending over him, he took the red headed boys face in his hands. The green glow flared from his fingertips. After several moments, Rowan’s eyes opened slowly. As they focussed on Tarentell, his face lit up.

“Thank god!” Tarentell kissed him firmly before hugging him tightly. Rowan’s finger dug into his back as they clung to each other.

“I guess this means we’re even,” Rowan laughed. “After that whole thing with the storm.” Tarentell laughed as well.

One day.

After the last person had fully recovered, he had one day. If he was lucky it would take a while for everyone too- No. What was he thinking? He couldn’t hope that another’s suffering would be prolonged just so that he might grab a few extra days of life.

No, the sooner this war was over the better.

In the end they had a week. They spent it together, of course they did.

“I think the war will be over soon,” Tarentell said on their last sunny afternoon.

“Did the green woman say so?” Rowan asked. They were lying side by side, staring up at the balmy periwinkle sky.

“Yeah.” Tarentell sighed contentedly. “I love you, you know that, right?”

“No, I thought you hated me,” Rowan joked. “I love you too, stupid Warlock.”

*

“Stupid,” Rowan told him. “You’re so stupid, Taren. How could you think this was worth… I told you never to do anything like this again. I told you.” Were those tears warming his deathly skin? Possibly. Probably.

It’s time to go, the green woman said. She took his hand and gently pulled him away.

“Good bye.” The final words rolled from his lips. A deathly whisper that brought Rowen’s mind to a stop.

“No.” Rowan sat up right. “No. No. Taren. Taren!” Furious tears still stinging his eyes, he shook Tarentell’s shoulders. The limbs were loose, head lolling to one side. “No…” He fell to the ground, shoulders shaking.

*

Peace was declared exactly two hours after Tarentell’s soul had slipped away. The green lady saw that the debt had been paid and the Færie saw no more reason to fight. It took a little explaining to make the human captains understand.

In the end a treaty was made. It declared that if any human or Færie killed a member of the other race with malicious intent, they must pay for that death with their own life.

Officially, it was named the ‘Sunrise’ treaty as it was signed at sunrise two days after peace was declared. Unofficially, it was known as the Tarentell treaty. Though, not many people could really remember why.

As for the Warlock who so few knew or would remember, he was buried. Not in the Warlock crypt as many would have expected but overlooking the lake that held so many precious memories.

Imprint

Text: Naomi M-B
Images: http://www.blingcheese.com/image/code/91/fantasy++background.htm
Editing: Various
Publication Date: 04-14-2014

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