“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ellendia said with a laugh as they watched Aeline crawl through the grass outside. “She’s perfect, just like you.”
Serina learned not to mention the darkness. Fairies looked at her strangely when she did. Besides, she loved her sister. Every night as they slept, their breaths created a beautiful rhythm in the air. It was almost musical, and Serina quickly learned it was Aeline’s power over air that made this possible. She could create music out of nothing, like a soft breeze playing a beautiful melody through a wind chime.
Whenever Aeline talked, it was just as musical. The other air fairies came to listen to her, whispering to each other that she was unique. “A gift,” they said with gentle smiles. “She will provide an even stronger harmony than already exists.”
Every time the other fairies talked this way, Serina slunk into the woods as her heart burned with jealousy. It was wrong to feel jealousy. She didn’t want anyone to see her forbidden emotions, especially her mother. The woods provided a safe haven away from other fairies. She could practice her water there.
As the years passed, her body matured, but her emotions remained unstable. Time stretched into her one hundredth year—a milestone for every young fairy—and she nearly gave up hope of ever gaining control over the bitterness she felt for Aeline’s beauty and talents. The most she could do was try to hide the feelings from others.
One rainy afternoon, she stood in the forest and thought of all these things. She tried to forget them as she focused on her surroundings. The forest was green and luminous, and the warm drizzle from the clouds felt like fluttering eyelashes against her skin. She raised her arms and turned slowly in a circle, singing the words her water instructor, Felicity, had taught her.
All around her the water slowed its descent to the ground. She lifted it upward, conscious of every drop—thousands of them. She began organizing them by size. She moved the biggest to the top and the smallest to the bottom and then swirled them around until they created a funnel. It looked like a thousand shimmering pearls floating in the air, growing larger and larger as she kept gathering more water.
Taking a deep breath, she admired its beauty and left it hovering in the air as she turned in circles to find areas that might need extra water. There, a dying sapling beneath a towering pine, whose monstrous boughs seemed to lick up any falling moisture. With a flick of her wrist, she rushed her water funnel to the earth around the sapling.
“Drink deep,” she said as the water soaked into the soil.
“So this is where you’ve been hiding!”
Serina spun around. Aeline tiptoed down the thin forest path. Her elegant, flowing gown looked like it was made of spun light—yellow and white. Serina had never understood Aeline’s desire to dress so beautifully. Most of the fairies dressed in earthy colors, which blended with the surrounding forests. Aeline looked like she had stepped directly from the sun.
“I’m not hiding,” Serina muttered, and turned around to finish her work with the sapling. “I’m practicing my water work.”
“It looks like you’re doing splendidly!” Aeline bent down to look at the sapling. “Poor thing needed some more water, I dare say.” She touched the leaves that had started to curl, and then looked up at the tree towering above it. “Although it might be best to replant it somewhere less sheltered.”
“An earth fairy can do that,” Serina said with a huff. “I never know what’s best, no matter how much I practice.”
“Oh, stop.” Aeline stood and smoothed her hands down her slender hips. “I practice as much as you do. I think air is easier to control, that’s all.”
“I can’t imagine why.” Serina sat on a moss-covered rock and looked up at her beautiful sister. Aeline was constantly irritating her with her perfection, but there was nothing to be done about it. Fairies didn’t harbor negative emotions—or they were not supposed to. She could never figure out how the other fairies managed to control their emotions so well. Even fairies her own age seemed stronger than herself. They could sit through their studies without any frustration, their faces as calm as a tree on a still summer day. Failure didn’t upset them, and Aeline had been the same way until a few months ago.
“I don’t know why it’s easier,” Aeline said with a shrug. She flicked raindrops from her dark tresses and gave Serina a plaintive look.
Serina lifted her fingers and sang for a moment. The rain slid away from both of them. She would have to constantly move the water, but she was practiced enough to do so with only a movement of her wrist. She lowered her hands.
“Air is lighter, for one thing,” Aeline said, smiling now that she could dry off. She wiped the rain from her face and arms. “The real trick comes in learning how to move it fast enough to create winds and other such nonsense.”
“Nonsense?”
“You know what I mean.”
Serina frowned and studied Aeline’s long, dark hair. It was the color of wet soil, just as rich and warm. It turned curly in this moist air, like their mother’s hair. Serina had a head of fire-orange locks. They were constantly tangled, and Aeline was the only one who could brush them to any degree of smoothness. It was during these brushing sessions that Serina had discovered her sister’s love for fire. “It’s the same color as flames,” she would whisper as she brushed through the tangles. “So beautiful. I hope I can control fire one day. It’s interesting that you have such bright hair and your element is not fire.”
Serina had no idea why anyone would want to control fire. It seemed to cause the most injuries and trouble with the fairies. Her concentration wavered for a moment and the rain fell onto their heads.
“Serina!”
“Oh, sorry.” She moved the rain again. “I was only thinking about your new-found love for all this fire business. It’s not your element, Aeline. Whenever you try to control it, terrible things could happen.”
“Only wonderful things so far.” She lifted a finger and shook it at Serina. “You are the only one who knows what I want, and the only one who can help me. I hope you’re not thinking about telling anyone. If you do, you’ll break my heart.”
Although Aeline irritated Serina in ways she couldn’t begin to explain, the last thing she wanted to do was break her heart. “I won’t tell a soul,” she said, staring at the ground. “I love you, Aeline. I’ve told you many times how much you mean to me, but I don’t know if I can keep helping you with these fire sessions. It’s... wrong. Mother would be horrified if she knew.”
“Mother will never know.”
Serina stood and faced her sister, nose to nose. They were the exact same height. Even their faces were similar, although Aeline’s was softer, her features fluidly running together, perfectly symmetrical. Serina’s face was a bit lopsided and dotted with freckles so faint only certain light brought them out. Still, she hated them. Many fairies said she was beautiful, but she never believed them, especially when she looked into her sister’s eyes. Darkness. Why couldn’t anyone else see it? They were pools so deep they were like caves, but without the moss and lichen, which constantly glowed and filled every gap and crevice. Her eyes were almost like mirrors, and for a moment, Serina caught a glimpse of her own fiery hair in them, a reflection of what Aeline most wanted.
“Let’s do a session right now,” Aeline whispered with a smirk. “Please, sister? My hands are itching.”
“It’s a physical need for you, isn’t it?”
Aeline’s dress dragged on the wet ground as she stepped away. “Yes, it is. I don’t know how you could possibly understand. Don’t you feel that way with water? Don’t you wake in the night needing to control it? To feel it rushing through you?”
“No, I don’t. I’ve never heard any fairy explain their element like that. It’s unnatural. Maybe... maybe we should go to Verath and see if something is wrong.”
Aeline’s eyes grew darker than before. Verath was one of the oldest fairies on the council. If anything became unbalanced, Verath was
the one to fix it. It was rumored he often crossed the border between the fairy realm and the human realm to retrieve magical creatures who had broken rules. It was rumored that he was viciously brutal if needed. Serina shuddered. She should not have mentioned him to Aeline. Her sister’s bottom lip quivered.
“You wouldn’t do that,” she said in a guttural voice. “Would you?”
Serina swallowed. She had only met Verath once during a musical concert, and that had been enough. He was tall, a towering tree. His hair was wickedly white, his nose sharp, his eyes swirling with hot light. He was, of course, tied to the most volatile element—fire. “No, only if you wished it.”
Aeline’s face relaxed as she let out a sigh. “Thank you. Now, please, let’s do a session.” She bounced on the balls of her tiny feet and touched Serina’s arm. “Please, please, please?”
“Oh, fine.” It was no use arguing with her. There was a sweetness about Aeline that pushed around every fairy’s emotions, including their mother’s. Aeline seemed to be innocent, but beneath that shimmering layer, something darker collided with a twisted need to control things she wasn’t supposed to touch. That was part of what rubbed Serina the wrong way. Still, Aeline had never once done anything remotely malicious during their secret fire sessions.
Serina lifted her arms and sang until the rain ballooned out. It was as if an invisible glass dome surrounded them, protecting them from the moisture.
Aeline squeaked with delight and clapped her hands. “You gather some wood and I’ll dry it,” she said with a grin.
Rolling her eyes, Serina set to work picking up small sticks for tinder. She handed them to Aeline, who swirled warm, dry air around them until they almost crackled. The foundation of any element was particles tinier than the eye could see. Serina knew that to make the air warmer, a fairy had to see those particles with her mind’s eye and push them farther apart. The concept was simple, but with every passing year she learned of more complexities and complications. It was no wonder even fairies over three thousand years old strived to keep learning.
Finished drying the wood, Aeline piled it all together and sat on the damp ground, her bright dress billowing around her.
“Now, the hard part,” she said with a wink at Serina.
Serina sat back down on her moss-covered rock and rested her chin in her hands. “You know, as much as I hate breaking rules, I have to admit this is kind of fun,” she said, wincing at her own words.
“Of course it’s fun!” Aeline rubbed her hands together and stared intently at the tinder. A liquid tune drifted from her throat, beautiful words and notes. Her eyes seemed to light up. That part always made Serina squirm. Still singing, Aeline touched the tinder and waited.
The problem with being a young fairy in training was relying on words and songs. They were a channel to focus the mind into manipulating the different elements. Older fairies had no need for such things. Their minds could focus without that funnel as they commanded their elements in complete silence. Often, no movement was needed. No waving hands or fingers, no need to appear dramatic. Serina longed for the day she didn’t have to sing. Now, as she watched Aeline conjure fire into existence, she had to occasionally move her fingers to keep the rain away.
A small spark jumped from the woodpile, then another. Finally, the tinder burst into flames. Aeline stood. Her face was serious, her eyes still illuminated. She lifted her hands and sang louder. The fire stretched up to them and pulled taught, like a string, no longer licking at anything. It fed on nothing but Aeline’s own willpower and singing. Serina could have sworn she heard it whisper, Yes, yes, I will obey you....
In all her years, which weren’t many in comparison to someone like her mother, Serina had never seen anyone manipulate fire the way Aeline did. It was like burning putty, malleable and supple. It almost seemed alive.
“What are you going to do this time?” Serina asked, finding herself entranced by the string of fire.
“You’ll see. Last time this was all I could manage. This time I want to make it dance.” She sucked in a deep breath and flicked her wrist. The fire darted to the right, then to the left. It twirled as Aeline spun around. She moved to some silent tune that made Serina hold her breath.
Illuminated strings trailed behind the fire with every movement. It followed Aeline’s hands like a trained pet. How did she control it so easily? It took all fire fairies years to force fire to their will like Aeline was doing. It was the most resistant element. Yet, there she was, pulling it around as if she had been doing it since birth—as if her element wasn’t air at all.
Of course, that control couldn’t last forever.
“It’s pulling!” Aeline cried. Panic tinged her voice. Her movements slowed, but the fire did not. It began to hiss and take on a life of its own, something Serina had also never seen happen with other fairies. Usually, the fire snapped back to its original state, but every time Aeline controlled it, time seemed to force it into an aggressive state. Now it was curling itself around Aeline, getting dangerously close to her clothing. “Serina!”
Serina jumped to her feet and raised her hands. She sang a command to the rain, and the dome disappeared. As fast as she could, she pulled the rain into a thread and twisted it around the fire. It took several attempts, but she finally managed to squeeze the life out of the fire, and it choked and sputtered and fizzled into nothing but steam.
With a heavy sigh, Aeline slumped to the ground. “Thank you.”
Serina put her hands to her hips and glared at her sister. “What if I’m not fast enough next time? What if you decide to do this without me around? Something terrible could happen.” Her voice cracked, and she lowered her hands from her hips and fought back some tears. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
It was the truth. No matter how much Aeline irritated her, life seemed more intense with her around—deeper and more beautiful.
“I’ll be careful,” Aeline said softly as she dug her fingers into the dirt. “I can’t begin to explain what happens inside me when I control fire. It’s like the world opens up in front of me. I feel more alive, more powerful, more... everything.”
“Yes, but it’s dangerous, and you should take it slower.”
“I will, I promise.” Aeline reached up and grabbed Serina’s hand. “Thank you for helping me.”
Serina looked into her eyes and realized there was enough light in Aeline to chase away the deepest shadows. Perhaps that was why nobody else had ever seen the darkness.
Even though her element was water, Serina loved air most of all. She didn’t wish to control it like Aeline wished to control fire, but she longed for what the air fairies could produce better than anyone else— music.
One evening out of every week, the elder air fairies held concerts where they sang sacred songs about history and laws, often mixed with entertaining stories as well. On those evenings, Serina slipped into her blue taffeta gown and tied up her unruly red hair with a blue ribbon. She walked between her mother and Aeline down the glittering lane of cherry trees. Every year during the season the trees bloomed, the air was filled with their sweet scent, and petals swirled like snow, finally covering the lane in a pinkish-white blanket. It was in those moments that Serina felt the most content as she held on to Aeline’s hand and her mother’s hand. The three of them spoke about the day’s events until they reached the concert stage, set in a ring of trees. The stage was built of large, flat, silvery stones. Everyone sat in front of it. The elder air fairies always made sure the sky was clear.
The concert nights were some of the only occasions the male fairies gathered together with the females. Serina liked this most of all, although she had yet to meet her father.
“Are you wishing to be on that stage one day?” Ellendia asked Aeline as the three of them sat in the grass to wait for the concert to begin. Serina fluffed out her blue skirts and watched the material balloon around her. She listened carefully for Aeline’s answer.
Her sister looked a
t her mother and frowned. “I’m not particularly wishing for it,” she said with a drowsy voice. “I don’t see why everyone thinks my air skills are any better than the next fairy.”
“Oh, but they are,” Ellendia said with a worried glance at Serina, who simply looked away and pulled a blade of grass from the ground. It made her sick inside that her mother didn’t know about Aeline’s obsession with fire. Something bad was bound to happen eventually, and she dreaded that day.
“Your talents reach beyond any fairy’s skills at such a young age,” Ellendia continued. “Verath himself has said he sees great promise in you.”
Serina looked up, confused. “You speak with Verath?”
“Yes, whenever I visit Rodowa. You know I go once a fortnight.”
Serina was surprised. Even though her mother visited Rodowa—the land where the male fairies reside—she had never realized she spoke with Verath on a consistent basis. The council was made up of very busy, very old male fairies. Verath was the only fairy almost as powerful as Oberon himself—the king and ruler over all fairies, and ultimately all species, if one thought about the world in such terms. Serina had been taught that fairies ruled over all living beings, but everything she had heard about humans led her to believe that they ruled over themselves now.
In that very moment, several elder male fairies took the stage. They were dressed in green, gold, red, and blue, and arranged themselves in a way that represented the earth, the sky, the humans, and the fairies. The male in green opened his mouth and sang the most beautiful sounds, like silk and honey and wispy clouds. He sang about the Old Earth and its formation. The other elves joined in, singing the tale of how the humans and magical creatures once lived in harmony on the earth. There was no fairy realm, no land of eternal light. The humans accepted the fairies as superior, as their leaders, but over time the primitive humans became selfish and jealous and their thoughts turned to war. So, leaving a world filled with stars and darkness, the fairies created Lisadar and Rodowa, a plane of existence that could not touch the humans. It remained a secret to the humans, and only lesser magical creatures were allowed to live permanently on the Earth. Time passed, and most of the humans forgot about magic. It was supposed to stay that way.
Bonded: Three Fairy Tales, One Bond Page 25
