by Pirateaba
But still. Erin stared at the mess of sugar and rapidly thawing ice and glared at the faerie. There were limits, even if Erin had given some sort of…permission.
“How did you eat all of that, anyways? Your stomach should have exploded. Are you hollow or something?”
This time, the faerie just sniffed at Erin. She flicked her wings up, raising a cloud of sugary dust and spoke to the air instead.
“I do not suffer your questions, mortal. Go ask a rock if you have so many useless things that need speaking.”
Again. Erin ground her teeth. It seemed like whenever she asked the faeries a personal question, they got offended and left. Why? They asked her questions all the time. It wasn’t fair.
But she’d been down this road before, and not she knew some things. The faeries were little jerks, but they did have some rules. So Erin changed tact. She called after the faerie as it flew off in a huff.
“You know, it’s rude not to talk to the host.”
The small creature paused, and then turned at the door. She was scowling, but she did turn.
“‘Tis rudeness we seek to offer to you and your kind, human. But I shall talk to you since you insist of it. We are guests and we will do as we must.”
That was good! Not the rude part, but Erin had finally, finally gotten a response out of them without having vital bits frozen off! She felt like doing a little dance.
But instead she suddenly had to worry about what to say. The faerie floated back in front of Erin, clearly waiting, and she realized she might only have one question. Quick, what would Ryoka say?
“Why do you hate us so much? Humans, I mean. Or do you not like all mortals?”
The faerie looked surprised for the briefest moment, and then rolled her eyes.
“Hate? We hate you as we hate the changing of days or lichen on trees, human. You are pests, nothing more! But we do not obey your commands and you will know it!”
“We don’t command you. I mean…”
Erin paused. Okay, they didn’t order the faeries around, but did telling them they had to talk to her and bothering them count? The faerie clearly thought so; she stared at Erin with one eyebrow raised.
“Okay, maybe we do. But you were really mean to Ceria, too! How is that fair when she’s my guest?”
Again, the small creature shook her head.
“Ye aren’t that smart, are ye? The fey answer to no one, mortal! We speak and bestow our gifts as we please, and none may command us! No god, no king, no lord or master. Have ye not heard the words? The fey obey no one, and we bow to none either. So what if we offended your honor? We do as we please. So long as the worthless child was not a guest we could do as we wished. Now she is your guest.”
It was an infuriating speech with so many holes Erin wanted to point out. But the faeries were a bit like children; they had odd rules of their own that they stuck to like glue.
“But now she’s my guest, you’ll leave her alone?”
The faerie looked insulted.
“Of course. She has guest right as do we! And we will obey your stupid rules while we remain within your place of power. But we are guests, not slaves. Ye would do well to remember that.”
“Right, right. Um, I gave you food. And this is an inn. You can sleep wherever if you pay me…?”
The faerie sneered at Erin. She did it quite well; it was a Snape-worthy level of sneer, which showed just how expressive the creature was.
“Paltry food, you gave us! Cow’s milk days old and sugar plucked and ground together by filthy hands! And we would not sleep in your inn when beds of fresh snow are ours for the taking outside! If you want our favor, ye’d better try harder.”
Erin did not want the Frost Faerie’s favor. She wanted them gone, and Ryoka back. But her ears pricked up nonetheless at the words. Being an innkeeper was all about selling stuff, after all. And she had [Advanced Cooking]. How hard could feeding a faerie be?
“Well, what would you like me to make? Do faeries like…milk? Sweet things like syrup?”
That’s what Ryoka had said, and Erin vaguely remembered stories about faeries eating that kind of thing. But the Frost Faerie just looked insulted.
“Do you think we are Brownies, or Pixies, to be bought with a bit of churned milk or tree sap? We are not foolish children; we stand high among our kind. We bring the Winter; ours is a duty entrusted to us by our King himself!”
That sounded important? Erin frowned.
“But what do you want?”
“Anything, so long as it is pure! Naught touched by filth, and that which is closest to our nature. Especially nothing from your smoky, polluted world. Figure it out!”
That was a typically annoying faerie answer. Erin thought hard.
“Do I get anything in return?”
Another look that told her she was stupidity made mortal.
“Of course. Did you not already receive one favor? For you bowl of milk and sugar. ‘Twas a paltry thing, but we repaid the debt in kind by chasing away the scaley-headed oaf.”
That was true! Erin wondered if the faeries worked on a favor economy or if they had actual money. But maybe then she could get them to leave Ryoka alone?
“Does that mean I get another favor for my sugar?”
“The sugar was a gift, was it not?”
The faerie looked pointedly at Erin, and the girl bit her tongue. Words. Ryoka had warned her to watch her words around faeries. She supposed this was a good example of that.
“Fine. No favor, then. But if I make something good, I get a favor, right? A big one?”
“If it is worthy. But deliver us more waste and we will braid your hair into elflocks and freeze your doors shut!”
As threats went, it wasn’t high on Erin’s scary list. Until she wondered exactly how tightly her hair would be tangled, and how much ice would be freezing said doors.
The faerie paused. She seemed to think, and made another face.
“…I suppose ye are owed the tiniest gift for the sugar. Ask, then, mortal. What small token would you wish of me?”
That sounded like a test. And now that Erin was getting in the swing of things, she realized it was probably very important that she not ask for too much. The faerie watched her as Erin thought. And then Erin knew what she wanted.
It was stupid. Silly. There were a hundred things she could ask for instead, should ask for. But Erin really, really wanted this.
Tentatively, she pointed at the faerie.
“Can I…touch you?”
The small Frost Faerie blinked in surprise. Complete surprise, painted openly across her face for the first time Erin had ever seen. Then she slowly nodded. And smiled with the barest hint of malice.
“If that is your wish. Come then, touch of me.”
Slowly, the faerie floated towards Erin, and suddenly the girl could feel the cold radiating off the small body. It was always cold around the faeries; in complete disregard for the laws of thermodynamics (if they even applied in this world), they seemed to radiate cold like fire did heat.
Only now it was cold enough around this one faerie to make Erin shiver. And when she tentatively raised her hand towards the faerie, she felt the air chilling her to the bone. And as she reached forwards.
“Ah!”
It hurt. It was like the worst winter days in Michigan, when it would hit -10° Fahrenheit, or around -20° Celsius. The cold wasn’t just a biting thing that hurt more as time went on, it was thrusting knives piercing Erin’s hand and twisting.
But the faerie was waiting. She looked at Erin expectantly, a smile playing on her lips. Erin hesitated—the skin on her hands were already white. But she wanted to know.
So slowly, she moved her hand forwards. Her fingers covered in frost, and her arm felt a shock as pain made Erin bite her lip hard. But she kept moving.
Slowly forwards. Ever so slowly, as if she were touching a butterfly or frightened animal. Because for all of her danger, the faerie was still a small thing. And so bea
utiful. So beautiful.
The pain made Erin’s vision go grey. But she moved slowly, ignoring the cold. Her hand was already numb. What kind of damage was this…?
But she had to try. Because it was a faerie. Because she would regret it forever if she didn’t try.
Magic.
The faerie stared. The tips of Erin’s fingers lost all feeling; her hand was pain and ice. But then her flesh touched the faerie’s arm, and it all stopped.
The cold melted away in seconds. Erin felt coolness under her finger and stopped biting her lip. She stared.
The faerie’s skin was smooth. It felt like neither flesh nor glass nor crystal, but some kind of fluid combination of the two. If you could turn ice to skin, if you could bring life to frozen air and capture it with magic, that would be what it felt like. Just the touch brought tears to Erin’s eyes. It was like Ceria, only far stronger. She was feeling something not of this world, not of her world. Something—
Something immortal.
And just like that, it was over. The faerie leaned away, and the contact was lost. Erin lowered her hand and clutched at it, but both frost and the terrible numb pain was gone. She stared at the faerie.
“It doesn’t hurt anymore.”
“Of course not. ‘Twas only a touch.”
The faerie shrugged her shoulders, but Erin was sure she was supposed to have given up when it got too cold.
“Was I supposed to give up and complain about the cold?”
It didn’t hurt to ask. The faerie just grinned as an answer; the little creature wagged a finger of her own.
“You have grit, fool child. Perhaps the cold was just a test. But even to touch the fey is a price of itself. You are lucky.”
For once, Erin was in complete agreement. She remembered the touch, that slight sensation on her skin, and knew she’s remember it forever. A piece of a larger mystery. And finally she found the right question to ask.
“What are you?”
“We are that we are.”
The words were familiar to Erin. But the faerie gave Erin no time to stare. The small creature flew into the air, and around Erin’s head.
“Well! Brave Human that ye are, will you keep me longer? Or will you feed me? If not, leave me be! I have snow to bring, and clouds to chase!”
“What? No I—thank you. But can I ask one last question?”
“If ye must.”
“Magic.”
Erin stared at the faerie. She remembered the feeling in her hands. And she wished with all her heart—
“Do you think—I could do something magical? I mean, Pisces told me I couldn’t do magic and Ceria thinks so too. I’ve got a skeleton, but…could I ever…?”
She didn’t know why she was asking a Frost Faerie of all creatures. But it was magical. It was something else, and—yes, Erin began to wonder if it was actually the wisest creature she’d met so far in this world. A miniature female Yoda?
The faerie scratched at her head and shrugged, unconcerned. Erin backtracked on the Yoda bit. But then the faerie laughed.
“Magic? Why ask when you should already know? The fools who call themselves mages in this world talk of magic as if it is something had by few. But you have tasted of it; how else would the bag of bones move except not for you?”
Erin’s heart began to beat faster. She tried to quell the excitement in her chest.
“But that’s not magic, is it? That’s just a bit in me; not enough to do any spells.”
“Spells? Pah. Are ye an old man walking back through time, to be concerned with such things? Who needs spells? Is magic so petty to be all sparkles and muttered words?”
The faerie laughed, and the tinkling sound lifted Erin’s heart. Slowly, the faerie flew towards Erin, and pointed towards the door. She cast no spell, uttered no sound, but the door opened as wind blew from the inside. The faerie grinned at Erin.
“Magic is.”
Then she flew out the door and disappeared. Erin stared after the faerie, and listened to the beating of her own heart.
It was loud in her chest.
—-
That was how they found her. Toren walked in from outside, and Ceria came downstairs to find Erin sitting on the table, staring at her fingers. The girl looked up as they approached and smiled and made the right noises, but still the two hesitated.
Toren had no words to speak with, and so he left that to Ceria. But he stared around the inn, as he carefully placed a bag of coins on the table. He’d labored through the night to clear up the rest of the detritus left from Erin’s concert outdoors, and although he’d had to make a mound of discarded clothes, trash, and to her miscellaneous junk, he had come away with several useful items.
Ceria had slept poorly until just past midnight, dreaming of faeries and worrying about Ryoka. But she added Erin to her list the instant she saw her face.
“Oh, sorry Ceria. I’ll have breakfast out in a bit.”
Erin got to her feet as the half-Elf peered at her. Ceria shook her head; not in a denial of breakfast, but to reassure Erin. She hesitated.
“Is…everything alright? You look different, today.”
“What? No? No. No, I’m fine.”
She didn’t look fine. But she didn’t look bad either. She just looked…different. To the half-Elf and Toren, it was as if Erin was far away and here at the same time; almost sleepwalking.
Erin felt the same. Her heart was racing, but her mind floated on a sea of calm. There was something in her. Words, and wonder, but something else. Something…magical.
She was herself, and not at the same time. Erin remembered only bits of the dream now; distant memories that drew away with each breath she took. But it had done something to her, that dream. It had made her remember.
Nothing important. Nothing life changing. Just…childhood. Erin remembered walking through the snow, jumping into a huge mound and getting stuck. She remembered playing with a caterpillar with a stick, running away screaming happily. She remembered—
Believing in faeries. Believing in Santa. Believing in magic and waiting to turn eleven, hoping for the owl.
When had she stopped? Sometime after she’d learned to play chess. The magic had disappeared and the game had taken her in. But now Erin remembered.
And so she thought. And when she spoke, it was to Ceria and Toren both.
“I need a favor.”
Ceria looked up and paused as she shoveled porridge into her mouth. The half-Elf ate fast and with less-table manners than might be hoped for, but at least she ate a lot.
“What’s up?”
“I want to make something for the Frost Faeries. Something to eat.”
The half-Elf frowned at Erin.
“If it’s poison, count me in. Otherwise, I’d prefer it if you didn’t attract them here. Guest or no guest, they still hate my guts.”
“I know. I know, but—I—”
She’d had a dream. A true dream. And for a second she’d held—
Magic. Magic is.
Erin spread her hands out helplessly.
“They didn’t like the milk and sugar. Well, they did, but they said it wasn’t good. But if I can make something they love, they might leave us alone or—or give us something. I want to try. Will you help me?”
Ceria sighed and rubbed at her face. She looked at her bowl, and began chomping down on her hot food twice as fast, talking around each bite.
“Fine. I owe you a lot, anyways. But if you’re serving, I’m leaving tonight. I’ll stay with Selys, or at an inn if I have to.”
Erin nodded absently. Magic. Could she do it?
“Thanks, Ceria.”
The half-Elf hesitated, and exchanged a glance with Toren.
“Okay, food for faeries. What do you need me to do?”
“Flowers.”
Ceria blinked.
“Flowers?”
“Flowers. I need lots of them. As many as you can find, okay? Big ones, small ones…if you’ve got some that are, y
’know, wide enough to hold something, that’d be great.”
Erin was still thinking hard as she said it. She was trying to go back to the past. Yeah, as a child she had made meals for faeries. And if she was going to do it, wouldn’t it be…?
She realized something was wrong when Ceria took too long in replying. Erin looked over and realized Ceria was frowning at her.
“Erin, just because I’m a half-Elf, doesn’t mean I know where flowers are at all times.”
Erin blinked. Oh. Oops.
“Sorry. Was that racist? Species-ist…?”
“It’s nothing. I mean, we get that a lot. But most half-Elves don’t even like nature that much. We take on the cultures we’re raised in, so…”
Ceria waved a hand awkwardly. Erin nodded, disappointed.
“So you don’t know where any flowers are?”
Ceria hesitated.
“—Well, I suppose I could find some. Rot. Yes, of course I’ll go look. But just remember—!”
“Elves don’t like flowers. Got it. Sorry.”
Ceria opened her mouth, took a look at Erin’s face, and shook her head. Next, the girl turned to Toren, who stood up straight. His strange, new purple eyes burned bright in his skull. He seemed eager to accept his first new orders.
“Toren, I want you to get mushrooms. From caves, in forests…just don’t go near the city or anywhere too dangerous, okay? But I need lots of mushrooms by tonight.”
The skeleton immediately nodded and turned towards the door. Erin watched him walk out. Did he know the difference between poison mushroom and edible ones? Probably not. But if what she was thinking was right, it might not matter.
