Bonded: Three Fairy Tales, One Bond

by Michelle Davidson Argyle

  They walked in silence. The forest was eerily quiet as well. No birds. No scampering animals. Was Rodowa so unpleasant? The forest wasn’t void of light, by any means, but outside of the darkness in Aeline’s eyes, it was a darker place than she had ever seen. It filled her with a sort of dread as they neared the end of the path hours later. She saw sunshine glittering through the boughs. Finally, they cleared the trees and stepped into the streets of a city. White stone buildings stretched above them. Serina had never seen an actual city before. She had heard about them, but she hadn’t known Rodowa was made up of one. In Lisadar, everything was small villages and vast stretches of land. Here there was the smell of horses as carts rolled by with baskets of vegetables. Male fairies walked about, none of them paying any attention to Ellendia and Serina, who kept walking along the cobblestone paths until they reached the heart of the city where a grand temple stood surrounded by fruit trees and birds and tall grasses. A cool breeze blew over Serina’s sweaty skin. She was trembling from fear. Her mother did not acknowledge her except to glance back every now and then.

  She would find discipline in the temple standing before her. She would see Verath again, she was sure of it. He would do something terrible to her. He would make her pay for keeping secrets, and she would never keep one again.

  “Come,” Ellendia said as two male fairies allowed her to pass onto the temple grounds. “Verath is waiting.”

  Serina couldn’t imagine how Verath knew they were coming since they had traveled so quickly without telling a soul. She kept her lips sealed, however. She was too distracted by her surroundings to question anything. More male fairies stood at the entrances, and each time they questioned Ellendia they looked at Serina as if she was something dirty. She withered inside more and more, so that by the time they went into the temple and passed through several grand hallways, she felt the size of an ant.

  They reached a set of large wooden doors carved with images of female fairies dressed in beautiful gowns. This surprised Serina. Everything here seemed unfeminine. There were no flowers, no bright cloths or rugs with swirled designs, no glass vases or glittering chandeliers like she had imagined would exist in a temple. Everything felt square and sharp and dark, yet there was still light everywhere.

  A fairy at the door nodded to them when they stopped. He opened the double doors and stepped aside for them to enter.

  It was a great hall filled with light from the bare windows down both walls. Wide marble pillars reached the ceiling. The floor was marble as well, inlaid with a bright design. Serina held her breath when she realized what it was—swirling flames. Orange, red, yellow, and white, made up of millions of tiny stone squares. They patterned the floor all the way to the end of the empty room where Verath stood in a cobalt blue tunic and robe that ended in folds on the floor at his feet.

  “Ellendia,” he said loudly, his voice echoing through the room. “It is always a pleasure.”

  Ellendia remained silent as she proceeded through the great room toward Verath. Serina followed right behind her, as if a string tugged her along. She had no desire to be anywhere near Verath, but there was no choice.

  Ellendia stopped an arm’s length away from him and did a small curtsey. Serina did the same. When she lifted her eyes, Verath was staring at her, and his focus seemed to burn a hole right through her head. He was just as she had remembered, his oddly bright white hair pulled back into the customary braid, his nose pointed like a beak, his ice-blue eyes more intense than any flame.

  “Serina,” he said with a smile creeping across his lips. “Your mother has told me so much about your water skills. She says your sister is also very skilled.”

  At the mention of Aeline, Serina held her breath. Her knees went wobbly, and she almost reached out to her mother to steady herself. Shifting her feet, she gained her balance and looked Verath straight in the eyes. “Aeline is very skilled with air,” she said slowly.

  “Ah, but she has left us, hasn’t she?”

  It wasn’t a question as much as an accusation. Serina looked away. How did he know? Her mother hadn’t said a word to him yet. All she could figure was that a messenger had somehow been sent before them. Verath was waiting for a response.

  “Yes, she has left,” she squeezed from her throat as she stared at the brightly colored tiles on the floor. Could Verath guess at Aeline’s fire-guiding even without her saying a word? She hated to think what would happen if he knew she was intentionally keeping something from him. She decided to chance it. “She figured out how to open the doorway to the human realm,” she said, stumbling over the words, “and her curiosity got the better of her. She made me promise not to say a word, but I couldn’t keep it from my mother.”

  Verath was silent until Serina forced herself to look up at him. Instead of looking at her, he was focused on Ellendia. Their eyes seemed melded somehow.

  “Yes,” Verath finally said, breaking the connection between him and Ellendia. He looked back at Serina and smiled. “You did tell your mother, and that is commendable. Still, you have learned the rules by now. You know that I must punish you for keeping the secret for so long. Your mother has told me you knew about her leaving for a long time, yet you did nothing.” His voice had turned harsh, almost hissing at her. She hung her head, completely confused as to what was happening and how Verath knew so much.

  “I know I must be punished.” She almost breathed a sigh of relief that he hadn’t mentioned the fire.

  “Ellendia, please step away,” Verath said, and motioned for her to move back. Ellendia did as she was told. Serina tried to look her in the eyes, but she refused to look up. Everything seemed so wrong. How could a mother stand by and allow her child to come to harm? Fear coursed through Serina’s veins. Her hands began to shake, and when she looked up at Verath, she saw no mercy. His eyes seemed hotter than before. He lifted his arms and white heat burst from his fingers. Serina would have called it fire, but it had no color. It was more fluid—like Aeline’s fire. When it twisted into threads and began wrapping itself around her, she screamed and realized what fairy fire truly was, and it had the power to kill. Her mind seemed drained of color. She felt only heat and pain searing her body. The threads started at her feet and wound themselves around her like ropes, slowly working their way up, like her skin was being rubbed raw and left to bleed. Her shrieks filled the air. She could have sworn her feet no longer touched the floor. She had no idea if she was standing or floating.

  I sense you are keeping something from me, Verath’s voice wrapped around her thoughts. It was not audible in the room, only in her mind. She was confused and disoriented and wanted to press her hands to ears but couldn’t. This is called telepathy, Verath’s voice said with a smug edge to his words. I can see into your mind, and you cannot run. Now tell me what you are hiding, my dear, or I will increase the pain. Secrets cause death and destruction and chaos. We cannot allow them.

  She tried to speak, but her voice would not leave her throat. He was violating her mind. The very concept was worse than the pain he was inflicting upon her. Finally, as she realized there was no other choice, she focused her thoughts to the center of her mind. You keep secrets from us, she hissed through her thoughts. That is why Aeline wanted to leave. She couldn’t stand another moment here with such rules and restrictions. She wants to live. She wants to be free.

  The pain ebbed. Sadness, which wasn’t her own, swelled through her.

  We want you to live, Verath’s thoughts said. Life and freedom do not come without sacrifice. That is a great lesson—perhaps the most important lesson a fairy must learn.

  The pain increased and his thoughts came more intensely. Serina tried to squeeze him out of her head, but it was no use.

  But how can you learn these important lessons when you resist your elders? When you run away? When you keep such secrets and do not allow us to help you?

  You are hurting me, not helping me! Serina screamed inside her head. She struggled to break free of the white-hot bonds, b
ut she was too weak.

  Tell me your secret, Serina, and I will let you go.

  How could she ruin Aeline in this way? If Verath knew about the fire, he might find her and kill her. The very thought tore Serina in two.

  I sense a great truth in you, Verath whispered in her mind. You know betrayal and loss will pain you deeper than any physical harm, don’t you?

  Yes.

  She knew now that he could not only read her thoughts, but her emotions as well. And yet, it was almost a relief. If she could open that door to her secret, something wonderful might happen. Freedom. She wasn’t sure what kind of freedom—from pain, from keeping secrets, or from her own darkness. Nothing made much sense.

  I don’t understand, she thought. If you can read my mind, how is it you don’t know this secret already?

  You have closed it. You have locked it inside you with a promise. In fact, it is one of the strongest promises I have ever come against, and I cannot break through. Only you can release it.

  He was right. The promise she held to Aeline was old. She heard her own shrieks of pain and realized Verath’s heat still surrounded her. Slowly, it slipped away, and she opened her eyes to find herself kneeling on the floor, her arms stretched out in front of her on the cool marble. Surprisingly, she was not burned. She had thought her skin might bear marks of some kind, but they seemed untouched. She sat up and saw her mother on the floor as well, tears running down her face.

  “You will tell me the secret,” Verath said, standing above Serina. His blue robe was so bright it made her blink twice as her gaze traveled up his tall frame and to his face. His nostrils flared. “Now.”

  “I cannot,” she said slowly, sure her answer would bring more pain. “Does a promise to a sister mean nothing? Surely, if you expect me to be loyal in any fashion, that should begin with family.”

  Verath let out a heavy sigh. “I sense what you are hiding is of great importance. Do you not understand that your sister could wreak terrible havoc in the human realm? She could inadvertently cause harm to the humans or the elves or herself. She has not lived long enough to gain the wisdom necessary for a fairy to deal with humans in the right manner. If your secret is something about her that might worsen the situation, I must know it.”

  His eyes locked onto her, and she couldn’t tear her attention from him. Her mother’s weeping tugged at her emotions, but Verath seemed not to care. For an instant, she suspected he already knew her secret, or at least was trying to guess, for buried in the sharp features of his face was something beyond irritation and restraint. She saw a hint of fear. Could Aeline’s fire skills match his own? It was a wild thought, and she dismissed it instantly. She had never seen Aeline shoot that fiery substance out of her body.

  “It’s not my secret to divulge,” she said. “I am sorry.” With a burst of courage, she tore her attention from Verath and turned to her mother still on the floor. She was drying her tears and staring up at Verath with a pained look on her face.

  “Mother,” Serina said softly. “What should I do?”

  Ellendia turned to her. “I cannot make decisions for you. I have tried to teach you and Aeline the best I could, just as your instructors have taught you. Look inside yourself and give Verath a final answer.”

  Her mother’s words stabbed her like needles. If she kept the secret, harm might come to more people than herself. If she shared the secret, Aeline might be discovered and killed. Neither option seemed better than the other, but the answer was clear when she took into consideration the greater good. She must share the secret.

  She cleared her throat. “Aeline has been practicing fire-guiding,” she said as loudly as she could. “This has been going on for years, and I have not told anybody. She has not harmed anyone. She has not meant anything malicious by this. She has only been curious. Fire seems... suited to her somehow.”

  The room fell silent. Serina looked from her mother to Verath. They were staring at each other, their eyes bright and focused, their expressions solemn. They were speaking to each other telepathically, and this angered Serina. Her heart beat faster as she watched them, wondering what they were saying about her and Aeline. Would Verath punish her again? Would he go after Aeline and drag her back? Would he kill her? In a lot of ways, she felt betrayed by her own mother for never telling her about telepathy, for bringing her here to be punished, and then to endure a conversation she couldn’t hear. It was all so degrading. She envied Aeline for a moment— her courage to leave.

  “A decision has been made,” Verath said, breaking eye contact with Ellendia. “Your mother will enter the human realm to retrieve Aeline. She is more likely to cooperate if it is your mother who finds her.”

  Relief washed over Serina. Her mother would find Aeline and bring her back. Everything would work out. She gulped down a nasty taste forming in her mouth. Everything would work out, except for the fact that she had betrayed her sister. Aeline may never forgive her.

  Verath leaned down so he was eye-level with Serina. He pressed two fingers beneath her chin. It was strange for him to touch her. She had already pushed past the pain he had given her, as if it was a distant memory.

  “I don’t wish to harm you or make you fear me,” he said as he studied her face. “There are many things you have yet to learn about your race, but those things will come in time. You would not expect an infant fairy to understand her element right away, would you? So it is with you, dear child. With the right guidance, we hope to give you what you need at the right times. We are thousands of years older than you. Please let us guide you.”

  Her heart softening, she glanced at her mother, who had turned her attention to Verath as he lowered his fingers. The look the two exchanged was something Serina knew she would never forget. It was affection beyond what she had seen between two fairies only acquainted with one another. Serina wondered if Verath could be Aeline’s father, but that couldn’t be. His element was fire, and Aeline’s was air. A fairy always took on the element of her father, but could it be that Verath controlled more than one element? Was that possible? She had never heard of such a thing, and if it was so, then Aeline could not be blamed for wanting to control two elements instead of one.

  She watched the two fairies tear their eyes from each other. No, that look was more than passionate. It was love.

  “I’m going now,” Ellendia said early one evening as Serina looked out her bedroom window at the lowering sun. The clouds were beginning to gather, and their pinkish hue cast the most beautiful light through the room.

  “You’ll bring her back, then?” Serina asked.

  “Of course. I know what she needs, and only I can give it to her as a loving mother. I only wish she had come to me before making such a rash decision. Who knows what she has done so far in the human realm.”

  Serina turned around on her bed so she faced Ellendia. She was dressed in a long traveling gown made of dull-looking material that resembled dry leaves curling in the sun. She carried a brown woven bag, and her hair flowed over her ears and down past her shoulders.

  “Are you excited to visit the human realm?” Serina asked.

  Ellendia smiled. “Yes, I am. It’s not the most ideal circumstances, but I am looking forward to seeing a different land. I will be entering the forest where the elves live, and they will help me from there.”

  “I wish I could come with you.”

  Her smile falling, Ellendia walked to the bed and sat down. She gathered Serina into her arms and held her tightly. “I am always with you, my daughter. I love you. Taking you is forbidden, but you will have your turn, I promise.”

  Serina looked into her face. There was no indication of her age except for a deep wisdom in her eyes, a sort of haze that glittered when she blinked. She was beautiful and perfect, and Serina remembered the time she had told her about how the Earth turned on an axis and how that made the sun melt away and the moon glow.

  “You’ll get to see the stars,” Serina said with a whimper in her throat. For so
me reason, she couldn’t let go of her mother. She felt as if a second loss would kill her. What if she never came back? What if she never found Aeline?

  “The stars are fire,” Ellendia whispered. “Remember where light originates. The sun is a star, and it is a form of fire like the rest. It is not like the fire you know, but it is controlled by the same powers that a fire fairy possesses.”

  “What are you saying, Mother?”

  “Just that what might seem wrong sometimes is not wrong.” She breathed deep, her chest expanding against Serina’s. Finally, she let go and kissed Serina’s forehead. “I must leave now. Never forget that I love you.”

  She left a moment later, and the light filling the room was still pink. Serina rested her head on her pillow and wept. When she woke in the morning, her pillow was damp. She whisked away the tears from the material and wrapped a shawl around her shoulders before heading outside. How long would she be alone? She had friends and her instructors, but nobody like her mother or Aeline.

  Looking down, she noticed her mother’s flowers. She stooped to touch a petal. So soft, just like her mother’s heart. Could she possibly keep them so beautiful? Her mother was the best with flowers. Nobody could keep up with her. Shrugging, she pinched a weed and pulled it from the soil. She could at least try.

  Every week for the next three months, she knelt in front of the flowerbed and pulled weeds and thinned out the excess flowers so the others had room to grow. She tried not to think about Aeline or her mother, but it was impossible. The flowers were watered with her tears.