Jenn — Roleplayer Guild

Even as night coated the atmosphere in navy blue, the forest hummed delicately with life. It never fell still. For every creature that found rest in night’s gentle embrace, another found the inky sky ideal to live under. With spring fast approaching its finale, the Summer Court eagerly prepared for the coming of their season. As decades of routine had habituated, the summer faeries bedded down hours before the sun finished its descent from the sky. It was too early for Alden, whose wandering mind never allowed him to drift off when his brethren did. When he was sure that the last faerie had succumbed to sleep, he always sneaked away. It had been his own little tradition since he was a small boy. An inborn wanderlust barred him from fully assimilating into the ritualized way of life that faeries held dear. There was too much see, too much to learn. It had begun with small explorations close to the perimeter of his court, which turned to lengthy jaunts around the entire boundary of the forest; his clandestine adventures grew and grew in their boldness until, recently, they had become forbidden excursions into the humans’ territory.

When the river’s susurrus voice became lost among the chattering of crickets and toads, Alden dropped to the mossy floor and grew to his full height. Accompanied by half-a-dozen delighted pixies that darted and weaved around his face, he ran through the trees. A damp breeze prompted a shiver to race down his spine; it smelled deliciously of the lush flora that thrived in the enchanted woods. Minutes, hours later, the pixies grew bored and left him. The air transformed, earth mixed with salt and cement—a new scent he was learning to appreciate. Slowly and then suddenly, the fragrance of his forest dissipated. Not long after, he broke through the thinning trees and was spat out at the boardwalk. He shifted back down to the size of a hummingbird. His wings, dull green and ragged to resemble an oak leaf, beat rapidly, lifting and then propelling him through the air. Never had he ventured farther than the fairgrounds, but just that was enough to transfix him. Sometimes he would fly above the millions of flashing lights and howl along with the humans on the roller coasters, or orbit around with the children and couples on the carousel. Other times he would simply perch on a stand and watch the people pass him by. He would watch lovers embrace, children play, parents laugh, and dream of the day when he would muster up the courage to talk to them.

On this occasion, he was set for the carousel, but his gaze chanced upon a lone female. It was the first time he’d stumbled upon anybody walking alone. She looked edgy, much different than the thousands of effervescent, excessively flirty females he often witnessed at the fairgrounds. Slowing his wings, he descended until he was level with her face. Skirting the railing, he studied her. She was pretty, he decided, very much so. In a way that was much softer and less ostentatious than many of her species. He followed her, sticking to the shadows so he would remain undetected. He could feel her tension zap the air, but it was nearly masked by his anticipation. This was the one he was going to reveal himself to; she was perfect. He began going over lines in his head, trying to piece together a suitable introduction. People-watching had taught him enough about human mannerisms, but still he rehearsed until he got it flawlessly. A moment he deemed perfect came upon them; no people had passed them for a good five minutes. He would shift and approach her from behind. On the count of three: one, two, thre—. The girl halted, and so did he, a bit deflated at the interruption. But he soon understood it. Behind him, he could hear quiet footsteps he had been too focused to notice before. Freezing, he watched a seemingly benign group near her from behind. A member of the group flashed his light up. Her reaction was so violent it caught Alden off-guard; he plummeted a few feet before he was able to recover from the start and remember to flap his wings again. The girls giggled, the boys chuckled at her. Cautiously, Alden lowered himself down onto a plank and peaked at them from behind a post. The nerve he had been cultivating since the start of their walk together disintegrated. It would have been difficult enough with just her, but with six others? No way. The agitated faerie puffed out a sigh; this was just his luck. Sinking down to the moist wood beneath him, he folded his legs underneath him and, as he always did, wistfully watched them.

Sequestered just behind the lively boardwalk, the Everwood’s herbal shop had existed since the founding of the town. But, as the town had grown, so had the shop’s popularity shrunk. Truth was, most folks didn’t believe in the holistic way anymore. In Hazel’s five years of working the shop, she had only come to know a good thirty regular customers. More often than not, people only stopped in when they were lost and needed a free phone to use. She didn’t mind though. It was a family relic—one that she was glad to upkeep—and she had grown fond of the handful of eccentrics who stopped in a couple times a week to chat with her. The shop was a place to spend her days before returning to her safe haven in the evenings, and she was glad to have it.

When the sky became imbued with the orange-y glow of the sunset, she slipped from behind the wooden counter and locked up shop. Hugging the store’s thick ledger to her chest, she skirted around the back and onto the boardwalk. Small and easily overlooked, Hazel was hardly even noticed by the mini-mobs that passed her, but she noticed them. She regarded the spark of pleasure in their eyes with a faint smile. The coming of summer was her favorite time of the year; tourists and locals alike had begun a swarm to the fair that would trickle in all season, and their eager happiness would continually permeate the air.

Passing by the old shop of the late Mrs. Swimminer, Hazel paused for a second. Her thoughts settled upon the Swimminer siblings. She was well-aware of the tragedy they had sustained, and felt a pang for it. Hale had become a lost soul, but she often wondered about Carla. There were many times when Hazel was nagged by the temptation to drop in and introduce herself to Hale’s younger sister, but she never let herself be led by the urge. Something told her that Hale would not appreciate the effort, and she didn’t want to be the cause of any more upset in his life, no matter how small. A duo of preteens brushed passed, knocking Hazel out of her brief reverie. She smiled down at the oblivious two, and then continued on to the tiny parking lot at the store’s back. She climbed into her yellow beetle and aimed it at the back-road that led home.

Like the shop, the Everwood home had been a part of the town since the beginning. An old two-bedroom clapboard cottage, it wasn’t much to look at. The foundation was beginning to sag, it was about twenty years overdue for a fresh lick of paint, and cobwebs fringed the window regardless of how often they were swiped away. But it was her home; the only one that had ever known. An old familiar contentment settled into her being as she climbed the porch steps to the door: there was no place like home. Upon entering, a brown and white stoat roused himself from atop her bookshelf: her daemon, Sinis—a spirit who had much to atone for in his past life. The creature yawned, bearing an impressive set of needle-sharp teeth, and gently nibbled at the fingers she outstretched toward him.

~*~

Mid-dusk found Hazel slipping away from paperwork and trading her sundress for a pair of jeans and a light tunic. The fenced-in garden at the edge of the property was where she always found herself ending the day. An adjacent shed’s wall was decorated every inch with the herbs she had hung to dry. The garden supplied her with the remedies she sold, as well as basic fruits and vegetables that were consumed by both her and the various fey in the area.

Hands stained by the rich soil, Hazel stopped worrying her plants and laid back against the moist earth with a wistful sigh. Just above her head, she could hear Sinis scurry around inside her blackberry bush, eating bugs and berries as they appeared to him. When his belly was packed, he stretched out by her face. Peaking on eye open, Hazel smirked at the weasel.

“You’re getting fat, Sin.” She reached forward and poked his pudgy belly with her index finger. Sinis regarded the insult with a small hiss and shot from her sight, off to brood until he grew bored or she begged his forgiveness—whichever came first.

Chuckling quietly, she rested her arms behind her head and stared dreamily up at the darkening sky. String lights bordered the perimeter of her fence; their twinkling gave off the impression of enchantment, but the real magic was far from her home. The Seelie queens had no interest in Hazel. They regarded her with only a fraction more trust than the common human. She was there to mediate the two worlds and nothing else; none of the courts were interested in friendship. The only creatures who ever gave her the time of day were the brownies, and an occasional wandering gnome or hobgoblin. She was never alone though. Even when Sinis occasionally strayed from her side, she never felt lonely. When she closed her eyes and cleared her mind, she could always hear the forest’s song—a soft thrumming of life and the buzz of magic. It lulled her to sleep’s ledge, but her eyes shot open just before she dropped over the edge. Something interrupted the cadence like the brassy crash of a symbol. Sinis appeared suddenly from a nearby burrow, lifting himself up on his haunches to investigate the disturbance. Hazel herself stood, uneasiness knotting her stomach. It had been ages since she’d felt something like this. Quiet minutes passed until finally, the explosion of a bullet being expelled cracked across the air.

Oh no. There was only one person that could possibly belong to, but she was terribly reluctant to believe that Hale would break the treaty. Sinis took off, using his keen senses to guide the way to the altercation. Hazel followed close behind, doing her best to keep up with the swift daemon. They came first across the broken body of a faerie. If not for the vibrant crimson liquid that outlined him, she might have passed right over him. He must have been shot when he was human-sized or else his body would have been obliterated. The fey’s eyes were open, but his glazed expression indicated that his body was void of a spirit. Tears sprang to Hazel’s eyes—such a waste of life. She stroked the fallen faerie’s face with her fingertips. Sinis intervened, nudging her fingers with his snout. He was right, she needed to press on and find Hale.

The foliage had been recently crushed down in the direction that mirrored the one she was following. She followed it, pushing herself faster and faster. As she ran on, her quest to track down Hale began to seem futile. Pushing ever forward despite the fact, she was rewarded with a glimpse of his leather jacket. He and the fleeing faerie ran in the same direction as her, but on a different track a good ten feet to the left. Scraping up the last of her endurance, she picked up speed and intercepted Hale, cutting him off from his prey.

“Hale!” She stretched her arms straight out like a fence. “How could you? You broke the treaty!” Her voice rang with a naïve betrayal; her eyes pooled with unshed tears.

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