What Lies below - A journal of a Fey

It was a lazy day, the warmth of the sun trying to press through the heavy northwestern winter clouds, small rays of sun dance along the well worn wood floor of the houseboat. Padding along in bare feet and not much of anything else either, letting the disguise fall away from her fey skin in the privacy of this slightly rocking boat she called home.

A board creaks under the slight weight of her step, lifting her foot up and then down again, repeating the noise it makes. Finding the spot she was looking for, she pulls the board up and finds her hidden papers. There were books, ancient looking, the covers leather, but not from an animal, but from the skins of her enemies, which the stories of each were contained in the book that the flesh covered. The shiny skin had not lost its glamour. It was the first of many journals that occupied the small space Setting down on the comfortable yet plain sofa, opening the first of the many pages, encompassing many eons through Tai’s life. The urge to read, reminiscing perhaps of days long gone and a time that seems to change whether she wants it to or not.

Opening the cover that looks much more fragile than it is, the first page, the paper worn on the edges, darkened with age, the scribed penmanship of the quill the date scribbled in the corner, Celtic of course, that was the hand that she would write her deepest thoughts in.


Gheimhridh 1686, éigin tar éis grianstad an (Winter 1686, sometime after the solstice)
“It was a dark and stormy night…ok well I’m just kidding about that

The words slightly smudged on the page, glancing over what would constitute emo writing of a fey just in her late teens, she moves to the middle of the book

‘Well it came today, the invitation to the court, of course my mother’s pretentiousness shows through on the human blood written invitation; it is the time of the dark court, her rule, of course. She wants me there, on display, for the cohorts that make their way through life showing the dark and evil side of this wondrous place. She is such a bitch.

My father says it’s my duty to go; she is my mother after all. This whole political power plays are so boring, standing there for hours and days as she goes through the list of her wants and desires, we are /there/ to serve her after all.
I need to come up with a way to get out of my duties to the court……’

A frantically scribbled note on the edge of the paper

‘Need to get out of here..who knew it would turn out like that’

Closing the book and rising from the sofa at the sound of a rapping at the door, Tai slips the journal back under the boards and quickly brings the glamour over herself and answers the knocking.

Perhaps it was the long drawn out winter, the dark nights, short days and rainy weather but Tai was deeply introspected these days. The past was haunting her more and more, perhaps an urge to go back to a time that was simpler, though rarely had any time during her life had it been simple. That’s so much not the Fey way.

Moving around the houseboat, securing all the windows, pulling down the shades, blocking out what light tried to escape the heavy cloud cover that lingered over Ravenhurst. Once the home was secured, Tai fully dropped the glamour and became what she was, no longer hiding her long slender pointed ears, adorned with a metal that was not from this realm, it shone like silver but glittered like no metal does that comes from ‘earth’ as such. Her vestments included a waist skirt that was encrusted with the tiniest of amethysts, purple of course, it was her color, she felt strength from it. The wardrobe barely covered any of her skin, for the Sidhe never worried about human propriety; it was all about beauty, nothing more, nothing less.

Drawing out the journal that she had hastily put away, flipping to the page that she had left off at, after the hurried message of a need to run, the next update would be the Spring of 1687, after the solstice.

Quote:
Well I went and did it, the queen, my mother had a request, no, not a request, an order, for me at the last court that I went to. Could she have spoken to me about it first? No, but rather in front of all those that fall under her, where my refusal would be nothing short of a disgrace to her, she did it.

Out he walked, the arrogance dripped off him in waves, more than the normal arrogance our race is blessed or cursed with, depends on how you look at it. He was unseelie, to the core, a many tentacled beast, squat in stature for the Sluagh, and my mother, in front of everyone, told the court that our marriage would happen on the eve before the spring solstice. Are you fecking kidding me? Me..barely out of my teens and she wanted me to mate with this…ass…to join their territory. It was all for political ways!

There I stood, all eyes of the court swiveled in their fecking ugly heads towards me, waiting for my response. I couldn’t breathe, I was dumbfounded. Why not my sister, she was old, almost 100 years older than me, desperate to marry, to have children, she was unseelie to the core, not a child of my father. The look she gave me, gave me chills, which is rather hard to do! If I had stuck around I would have ended up with the iron dagger through my heart, by her hand.

I tried to protest, to be vehement in my refusal to marry that creature, to my mother. The ire in her when I dared raise my voice in refusal, the order of her concubines and closest to take me, out of her sight, to get my agreement to her wishes, lead to the longest days of my life to this point.


The handwriting visibly changes at this point, to one of surety, smooth strokes to angered stabs of the quill to the paper, letters not completely formed. The reading would be very difficult to make out for one not familiar with the rage that boils through the one holding the pen.

Quote:
And then began my nightmare, I had done the unfathomable, disobeyed my Queen. They took great pleasure in trying to make me fear, to make me scream, to get me to submit to my mother’s orders. Though she had announced it, a sidhe still have to agree to any marriage, as the life of a mating can be forever, literally. The days and night s blurred, was it almost the spring? I no longer have a concept of time, place, meaning. The only sensation is pain, blinding pain and mind numbing attempts to have me say the word that I accept the arrangement.

Finally spring came, my father’s time as the ruling court. It was only then that he had me released from my iron bonds. His courtesans bringing me to his court, still demanding that I marry the man that would join our kingdoms together, I couldn’t but it gave me the opportunity to run, and run I did, out of the fairy, into the mortal realm, hiding and running, sometimes not even knowing where I am….


Closing the well worn tome, laying it against her long slender thighs, eyes closing, reliving the scene over in her head as the fire had died down, the candles down to the numbs in their holders and darkness enveloped her once more, but this one of nature’s making.

Sitting on the slightly swaying end of her houseboat, curled into the comfortable lounge chair as the sun rose from the east, the small newest journal poised on her lap, the skin of the fine tome was equally disturbing, as she had ‘traded it’ the last time she dared enter the edge of the fairy. Turning open the first page and beginning to write, the story of Ravenhurst..and her time, this time, there.

Since the move to this small remote location, I can feel my power was growing, age catching up with me those in the Summer court would say. The glamour was free flowing in Ravenhurst, not only from the natural beauty of the landscape but from the eclectic group of people that seemed drawn to this land. It truly was a paradise. The perfect place in the mortal realm to hide from the eyes that still seek me out, to take me back to bend my will or to die, either way it would be the end to my soul.

Why am I here, it was so clear to her then and still clear to her now. It was Him. Their past so entwined, and until His last breath, the future was so, at least as far as the Fey was concerned. It was her kind, their nature that when they loved someone, it was both their joy and their Achilles heel. She would follow him anywhere and he didn’t seem to mind. Who would have believed after the torture of her youth that she would love a tall, dark and handsome wolf and he would return that. I love the wild in that man, no taming him yet, the beast and I have come to an agreement, and it works..works so well.

There is many that would try to intervene in that, to try to interject their will into ‘her’ place but *the pen stabs at the paper* hell have no fury like a woman wronged…and double that being of my nature.

Soon there will be enough drunk on our glamour that they will bend to our will, fight in our place, do our bidding. It was the way of the future of this town, the power that the fey could rule over the others.

Perhaps I am more like my Queen/Mother than I would like to admit even to myself.

Closing the journal and setting it on the table, a glance around the secluded area, she dropped her glamour and let the sun shine from her skin, the fog sizzling around her as her own warmth burned it out of the atmosphere. With a laugh she swept the glamour back over herself and plotted out her day.

Pen to paper, plain and curled at the corner. If it survived it would get tossed into the middle of the journal that she had so lovingly taken care of. Her normally long, perfectly manicured hands were no longer so, ripped and torn at the edges, nails ragged and bitten away, though they gripped the pen with a grasp that was like the end of a rope when you hung from the precipice of life or death.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So, they found me, at the edge of arcadia, to many risks, too often trying to slip around the edges unnoticed. But it had been feeling just so.damn.good to be back, to feel the life force that is nothing like you would find in all of earth surrounding me.

Amoth, the troll, had been at least easily enough charmed to allow me to come back to the tiny town and at least settle some of my business. Handing off the ownership of the Raven to the unseelies, closing up the boat house, though not putting it for sale and leaving a message for Jericho.

Regret

So much regret, that the one that should have been first on the list to get some sort of letter or notice of departure, got nothing...


Regret

Things were different at Ravenhurst, from the places before. He was different. It makes the heart ache.


Regret

Getting caught..


Regret

Losing what was so important even though it is right in front of the eyes


Change

There is many rumors that pass over my ears in the days before I was taken back, against my will


Anger

So much anger, I have not felt this in a hundred years, it feels like it is going out in every direction. Wanted to strike out at everyone and everything


Pain

The Queens whip against the bare skin of my back, the healing, then more, to replace those that had healed. No one defied the queen before, so even her daughter, back from a century of running from her, was no exception.


Wish

For death, the torment, every day, just when you think it is over, it would start again.

Laughter

Those of her court laughing at my pain


Quiet

No one comes..it's been 2 days or ten days, the mind becomes a fog, time passing with no recollection of it, day, night, different than the unnatural way time passes in the fairy.


Broken

I feel it, not my skin, nor the bones that were broke and rehealed, inside, a piece of me, forever unhealed. What is it, not the heart, but something more complex, the psyche.


Different

I am not who I was..nor will I be again


Escape

Run, run hide, kill the troll or die trying, run, run back to where I was.


Safe

Time will tell

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The blood drips from the tears in her skin, fresh from fight and flight. Somewhere in the woods, the paper is crumpled and shoved into a pocket, her glamour barely able to cover the obvious signs of her otherworldlyness, she lays and tries to heal..unable to go on.

Thoughts swirl through a broken mind, incomplete, unsatisfactory, bits of hanging string, cut to uneven lengths were each memory.

Feck them, had they…I don’t recall them doing that, but…” the words would echo into the silence around her, lost, as she was.

The fine points of her ears stick through her wild hair, body now scarred, the fey body, her glamour unable to hide the iron laced wounds her mother inflicted upon her. Evil incarnate.

Tired

Where to run, which direction, remnant thoughts, pulling her back to where she was before, but why, what’s there, why there, in all the places in the world, what is the reason to go back there.

Confusion

Memories, not gone, out of order, mixed and jumbled. Nothing is clear, like someone took all the thoughts of the last 400 years and tossed them into the air, like a salad and said “Here, figure this out”

Torment

A cartoon flip book that the pages have been dropped and shoved back in any order, that was her memory, just catching a glance of one thing only to have it replaced by another. Over and over again.

Panic

Lost - Close to home, but then the memory skips to another place, another time, the world around looking unfamiliar and back.

Relief

Finding the glade, the water, cold and refreshing upon the wounds, all in different states of healing, the glamour, replacing what is burned up in attempting to heal. Barely veiling.


Rest

A rock to lay her head where she would be found if found….

Words scribbled on the back of a flyer announcing the Waning Moon Dance. The penmanship awful – could have something to do with the iron laced injuries to the hand.

Eased

By – The Redhead – the one that called herself the tooth fairy – She looks nothing like the Tooth Fairy – she must think I’m stupid. She helps me from the glade, where my battered body had laid for how many days I don’t recall.

Comfortable

Taffy - or Tabs rather – the Redhead brought me to her – dumped me more or less. She is nice, gave me clothes, though much to roomie in the hips – she’s a bit of a large lass. Says we are friends – I don’t remember – but I believe her. She gave me whiskey and suave for my skin and a place to sleep, if I did so.

Doubtful

Tabs says she can ‘fix me, my broken memory – worry that its broke for a reason – but will try – as long as it doesn’t kill me – though that might be a blessing.

Lonely

No one was looking for me. Perhaps no one but Tabs and the Redhead know me. Why did I come to Ravenhurst before, what drew me here, what kept me here, why did my mind push me to come back here in all the places of the world I could go…more questions than answers.

Confused

Left Tabs cabin in search of the ‘ARK’ as she calls it. Flashes of memory hit as I passed by streets and places, all of them fleeting, nothing makes sense. Only person that seemed to recognize me on the way was some fat man in a boat, wearing a much to loud yellow jacket. I flipped him off, he doesn’t seem like the sort I would associate with, but maybe, I know nothing these days.

Angry

This ARK cannot be my home – the furnishings threadbare and mismatched – like a gypsy lived here or some hippies. Perhaps I am at the wrong boat, but something this size would not be easy to ‘hide’ around this small town. Moving away from the entrance, hurling stones at the wall, first out of confusion but then the anger grows and grows, the heat around her grows, and the grass grows, the leaves blossom further, the anger rages. Standing outside the door as the night turns to dawn, before deciding to go in, it must be home, and no one else has come.

The days and nights blur to the fey, it seldom matters, but the battle for her mind rages – beyond her conscience thought. The night – the dark- evil trickery – pain and torture – anguish and nightmares – the unseelie side of her. The queen had worked very long at trying to bring that side of her awake, to truly make Tai her heir.

But then, the dawn comes, the heat of the sun, shining through the ark doors. Shedding the clothes of this realm, her hash laced naked body set in the deck chair, absorbing the rays, not for coppery skin color, but to charge and replenish the light side of her. Her kind loving father’s blood that sings through her veins, battling against the darkness.

[[Words written in a discarded journal, started before the Fey’s mind split, though looking through the started and stopped entries, words scribbled out, pages left nothing but a fray against the bindings, she turns to a crisp new page and starts to write.]]

Suspicion

The fat man in the boat, suddenly the ‘catch’ seems that much better near the ark in the mornings. He’s not fooling anyone. I will kill him one day, slip through the water and off with his head. He is one of us and he’s watching me, more than just to peer at my flesh.

Yearning

For something, that feeling you get when you thumb through the books on the shelf, reading the liners and nothing tickles your mind to pick up and explore the words on the page. I WANT something, but I don’t know what that is. Is it something I had? Something I wanted? I just want to scream, so I do, as the sun rises, my voice rises to a pitch unheard by mortals and I scream my frustrations away. And the night, the yearning moves to the bottle of Tullamon that often rests between my battered thighs.

Lust

Pain and Pleasure – the dark side of me often places both together. Each wound, running a finger along side of it, tantalizes something deep within. Beltane came, without me even noticing, the time the fey give into wanton desires, pleasures of the flesh. What did I do this year? Imbibed lemon laced tea and almost caused the world to see what I am. Another boon owed to the ‘tooth fairy Angel’. I really hope Beltane’s in the past have been better than this one.

Acceptance

I can’t do this on my own, the iron is too deep. Mind too cracked. They – the vampire and the Witches – offer to help. More debts owed. No other means, unless Arae comes through on finding the solution. I wonder if it will fix my mind, is it really the iron that has made it so broken.

Healing, finally, the skin starts to knit the lashes and slashes back together. It itches, as it does when the body fixes itself. Suave taken from Tabs to lessen the scars though they can be glamoured away one the healing is finished.

Curled up on the lounge chair on the back deck of the Ark, dressing gown open, revealing shining skin (YAY Sparkles!) the place so private, until the slap of oars on the water. The mayor coming this way for his daily peep show, creep.

Opening the journal, pen to paper, seems the only way to keep track of tings, though memories are being retained completely now that the iron is out of the blood. At least new memories, the old still a jumble of flashcards that someone played 52 pickup with. The only problem with that is that it was over 400 years of flashcards….

Soothed

Lexie and her sister Blaise. They said our paths had crossed before but no memory can be found. The tooth fairy girl had introduced us as sorts, maybe it was the ripping skirt or the other matters, I’m grateful for that girl. They helped me to the glad, day after day, working the iron out of the wounds. At first painfully slow, day after day, working the swap against the edge of each wound, working the iron out, scrape, scrape, scrape. Lexie, with Blaise help poured their magic into me, trying to keep the pain from being too much. Then the idea to use magnets, a fleeting though, but Blaise had just the thing. Draping me in thin muslin, laying the magnetized rocks across my body, the cloth being covered with black specks, then grey, then finally blood, but the iron was removed. It took the whole night to complete, but the iron out, the healing began. Another boon owed.

Curious

There is something that glimmers and catches my eye under the water. The lovely little boat that had arrived one day mysteriously, but set perfect in the water for gazing over the edge of it to watch that ripples distorting the glimmer under the surface. I can’t seem to look away, but something keeps me from diving into the water, though it may have something to do with the fisherman. Something about me sitting in the boat seems to draw strangers to walk through my property to come speak with me. It’s not necessarily a bad thing, but breaks my revere. First it was William a polite man with a wandering eye, something was different about him, flashes of memories, not of him, but of other faces go through the mind’s eye, but nothing sticks, no real clue of why those face appear. Then came Charles, he walks with the sound of death in his chest, even if he finds the doctor, I doubt he will live the year with that awful sound that he emits.

Surprise

My trip to Tabs cabin, in order to get more of the suave she makes, ended in surprise. There was Bratch, Tabs and a new fella Clyde, a shy man that never quite jumped into the conversation and there was something off about him, but not something you can put your finger on it, but I will. It was this new lad – Flanagan – big strapping lad, walking out with a shotgun and a side arm. He be from the homeland, but more than that, much more than that, he said at least if my ears didn’t deceive me, that he be of the Tuatha De Fion, here, in this little town, what are the fecking chances. And who should I see the very next night, standing in the middle of the road, but Flanagan, it’s not my fault I just about mowed him over, no one should be standing in the middle of the street like that. Though I hope our paths cross again soon, perhaps he knows why I chose Ravenhurst, or maybe it chose me, and also maybe to get a lil of that fianna brew, cause that be some delicious drink.

The ark, chilly in the morning, the windows being pushed open to their widest, the patio doors propped open, the breeze cool off the morning, the ocean still chilled from the late spring weather. Tai could not stand to have the doors and windows closed since her captivity, being closed in bringing memory flashes that would be one of the only things, but not /the/ only thing bringing fear to the Sidhe.

Rising from the bed, sleep unnecessary, but enjoying the company of her enamored. Sitting on the edge of the bed, just watching the rise and fall of the blankets, covering her totally. Wrapping a small silk robe, tied loosely at the waist as she would head out to her perch on the patio, stopping only to make a steaming cup of a tea to keep her company as she would put pen to paper in her journal.

Reaving:

A night at the Raven, sweet lil lass, such a shy bird, a tourist wandering, not having a place to stay, taking her in. She is touched with crazy, not knowing exactly what but its there, interwoven with her glamour, it tastes so lovely. A touch, a tease, playing that delicious glamour from her, giving her a taste at first of the fey magic, but more and more – until she had become truly enamoured.

Life

Jesse had left Tabs bleeding and injured in the bar. This man that claims to be all protective of the woman, just up and leaves her there. This pissed me off, I mean really pissed me off. Heading out after him, he had a jump on her, time wise. I let the glamour emanate from me, trying to enchant him to come find me from the smell. He doesn’t come, instead it is the red head, the sheriff, though something about her gave me the briefest flash of a memory, that didn’t make sense. Keliah, her name, I learned later, prepared to strike like a viper, but more than that, the blackness, fog, wraiths, unsure but somewhere inside me, knowing I’ve faced this before, and what would work, moving quick, taking her slight wrists into my hand, letting the glamour flow from me to her. The warmth, the feel of sunshine, LIFE headed straight into the vampire, the wraith-like creature, thing seemed to retreat, to fade, to disappear. The old man…in it all…I didn’t notice the old man until my true self had been shown. That is a problem. Getting Kel’s name, nodding and then heading off after Jesse, he was her target.

Exhilaration:

The Vampires are all fecked. Jesse trying to run us over. Jumping on the roof of his car. Clinging on for dear life, fingers burning from the iron, zippers from her jean dress scratching the roof of the car. He turns the corner, swinging the back end here and there, holding on until the brakes are slammed sending me over the windshield and landing on my arse on the ground and the fecker runs off. If I didn’t owe Tabs the boon of helping me I would not have chased after him. Fecking love….

Addicted

My wee glamoured doll. She has been reaved under my spell. She forgets to eat and though the fridge is overrun with the healthy food she loves, I forget to remind her to eat. If I want to keep her I have to keep her healthy, cause she won’t think to do those things. Her weeklong vacation has turned into 2, almost three but she seems to have no will to return to her work. That suits me just fine, the ark seems less large having someone else padding around in it.

Lilliputian

A rap upon the door, a slight thing stands on the other side. Ace, she wanted to tell me about Keliah and the darkness. She says the vampires can cause hallucinations which are terrifying. She brings up the fact that the Fey seem to have luck chasing away the darkness from the Vampires, it is not permanent and they are overwhelmed with it shortly afterwards. I offered my assistance, and to speak to my kin, to see if they will help as well. Ace promises to return and I make to contact my Kin.

Kinship

A quick run over to Tom’s Diner, the local Fey hang out these days. Asking those there to come, we headed to the ark to have a private conversation. Letting them know of the darkness that is infecting the vampires, all there seemed to have a bit of experience with dealing with it. Thora had assisted me with the vampire that was attacking the witch Lexie. Area and Lucy mentioned a familiarity with it. After some niceties where I tried to pawn off some of the ‘healthy’ food that was crammed into my fridge, unsuccessfully so. It was decided we wanted to do a hunt, an old fashioned Fey hunt. Just the sound of it had us all on our toes and excited. If we had the witches make a circle, had the wolves keep the perimeter safe from unsuspecting people wandering into the area and then we would have the infected vampires and hunt them down to blast them with “LIFE FORCE” to chase off the darkness from them. We are excited.

Lilliputian

The small wolf showed up again at the ark. She had news. After she had spoke to the witches, at least some from what I understand, they want to meet up with all the elders of the races. Since it seems that my cover is already broken with most, I agree to such a meeting. I wanted to protect my kin from exposure to these other races unless that is their choice. I agreed to search out the vamp that has punched out the other biter and see about the meeting. Also I had mentioned that if Flanagan was not aware he should be, for some reason it seemed logical to me, but I didn’t know why.

Dathúil

After Ace left, the sun had not completely set, I decided to head up to his home rather than find the vampire. I was surprised to find him home, as the few times I had stopped there he was seldom at home or at least answering the door. It is so nice, we do our greetings in gaelic, and it feels nice against my tongue.

We talk briefly about the vampire situation. He says he is aware but won’t be at any meeting. He doesn’t run that way. He cracks me up, of course without meaning to. How did I know that he and Ace were or were not mated? The way he almost choked on his cigar and the dance to put out the fallen cherry. I couldn’t help but try to hide my laughter with a fit of coughing.

Then as if she heard her name, Ace comes to the woods. Offering them some privacy, I have no interest in the business of wolves. As I made it known that I had personal business with Flanagan, a banging could be heard inside the cabin. Probably some poor soul locked away, held hostage. Just before walking off he leaned close and whispered low to me in Gaelic:

Féadfaidh Glais a roghnaíodh (Locks may be picked)
díreach mar atá freagraí go minic. (just as answers often are.)
Sin a thagann as a bhaint amach (That which lies out of reach)
Cuirfidh glao a dreamer (will call to a dreamer)


A riddle, giving him a curious look before driving off, I need to figure out what that is all about.

The journal laying in its hiding place, under a few boards in the boat, in a hermetically sealed area, lies covered in dust. Yes it had been a long while since the Fey had found her way to update this little tome of torn pages and richly inked lines. The human skin that covered the book dried out some from the lack of attention the pages have received.

Curled up on the sofa, the early mornings now much too cool to sit out in her lack of clothing, a rare glass of summer wine resting on the arm rest of the chair, to one that does not sleep waiting till happy hour has no meaning.

The entry begins…

Has it really been 3 months since I updated…this… I guess my mind has become lost in it’s own seeking of glamour, in the pleasures of the flesh, the mundane of everyday life renewed with a sense of vigor. Yet these things have distracted me from perhaps important things that have been left neglected…
The memories in my head are no clearer than they were months ago, though the new memories are crisp and clear for the recollection. Do I care anymore? Does it really matter what happened in life before my mother beat the memories from my mind? No..it doesn’t matter but yet why does it feel like a part of something is left undone, unfinished, incomplete. [The lines on the paper become darker, more intense with each word]

Something close is calling to me, not what the witches talk about, or what makes this land so special, but something else, deeper, with a richer history, even than that but I cannot pinpoint the direction of it.

[Pulling out a set of keys, made of pure silver, from the pocket of her opened coverlet, peering at them, then jingling them, only stopping when she heard A stirring in the back bedroom, no need to wake her yet]

The journey to get these keys, treacherous, fecking Tony never took his eyes off the location, even with each cast of that infernal fecking fishing rod. Finally yesterday, the curiosity again being peaked as I sat in the rowboat all introspective, quick glance in Tony’s direction then as soundlessly as possible slipping into the waters, swimming quickly as possible, hand grasping the keys, turning, to make a quick assent to the surface, a mouth full of razor sharp teeth grab hold of my ankle, biting in, twisting, the water turning red around us as the selkie attacks, threatens to pull me into the deep water. Kicking the fey in the face, hearing the satisfactory snap of the teeth, even if they came off in my flesh, rewarding, if only long enough to drag myself up to the grassy shore, a good half mile from my ark.
Evil brown eyes rose above the surface, teeth still covered in my blood, but coming on land was sure to be in my favor, not the sea Fey’s creature, it drops down below the surface and swims back to his boat in the harbor. I had to hide the injury from A. she wouldn’t understand what attacked me or why.

[Thumbing the keys, the pen now resting on the page, one key, smaller than the rest, with an odd engraving on the thick of it. A glance towards the last entry...then back to the key. "Well holy feck" she says aloud.

Féadfaidh Glais a roghnaíodh (Locks may be picked)
díreach mar atá freagraí go minic. (just as answers often are.)
Sin a thagann as a bhaint amach (That which lies out of reach)
Cuirfidh glao a dreamer (will call to a dreamer)

[The key has an aisling engraved (The Dream). Rising from her place on the sofa, downing the last of the wine, feeling the warmth that only fey distilled booze gives her, she heads out the door to find Flanagan]

The winter is long, so long, the dreary days of rain, rain and more rain drive me to go to the other realm, though the dark days penetrate even the seelie lands. The beauty of the fairy is beyond mortal words to begin to describe, it is breathtaking, beautiful and extremely dangerous, but you forget that when you get entranced in all the intricate senses.

My journey was to my father’s kingdom, while trying to avoid my mother’s henchmen. My trip was successful though often there were encounters with her trolls and sluaghs, that only my words and fake promises allowed me to arrive relatively unscathed.

Arriving, making a grand entrance! The finest spun silver garment, swirling around the darkness of my purple skin, contrasting with the knee length garnet colored hair, eyes glowing, a sight of terrible beauty that only other fey can see and understand, sashaying through the throne room doors, only to stutter to a stop at the waif of a man that seemed to be some imposter sitting on the throne, not even half the man that I had last left over a year ago.

Though memories of my life with my father were scattered and tattered, the very knowledge that this was not the man of my memories I would run to his side

“Father, father! What has happened to you?”

“Who is it..is that you my daughter?” his eyes clouded and grey

Taking his hand in mine, attempting to infuse him with my own glamour as if that would help, he would pull his hand away from me and his blind eyes would look around for something that I was unable to see. Standing and heading to my younger brother Ealhdun, my long slender fingers would reach out and grip the fine fabric of his shirt, pulling him to my face

“What has become of him and why do you fecking sit here like everything is normal!”

Ealhdun would gap at me, unexpected in this physical attack, usually the last resort and seldom done in the throne room without the king’s order. Shaking him vigorously “You will fecking tell me, are you working for the Queen?” his feet would begin to rise off the ground and Tai would begin to shimmer, the anger palpable coming off her

“No..no no sister no” he would stutter out.

Tossing him to the ground I would start to call out for my troll, the hulking thing would come through the grand doors, bending at his waist to make it through “You rang?”

Moving to him, patting him on the thigh, he would lower a hulking hand and I would climb into it and he would bring me to his ear, where I would whisper “No one comes to my father without my say so..no one, not even my brother!” the troll simply nodded and set me down, moving into place beside my father, he was one of the biggest trolls in the fairy.

Giving one last look of death towards my brother, Tai would head out to the kingdom to investigate what has happened to her father.