Bonded: Three Fairy Tales, One Bond

by Michelle Davidson Argyle

  Her eyes stinging, Serina tried to ignore her pounding heart. If Lief had truly loved her, he would have let her go. Leaving her in such a state was cruel. She reminded herself that he had not known, but that did not make her pain any easier.

  “Perhaps,” she whimpered with a glance at Verath, “you could punish me and end this misery and loneliness.”

  “This is your punishment, Serina. I could destroy you, yes, but it is your choice what you do with the punishment. Just know that dragons are not easily killed. Trying to get yourself killed will only bring you more pain. If you wreak too much havoc on the humans or try to cause harm to any other magical creatures, I will punish you further, and it will not be with death. Death would be a way out of the punishment.”

  She gritted her teeth and kicked at the bowl of broth on the ground. Spilling its contents, it went flying and hit the wall of the cave with a loud echo.

  “And what is the proposal?” she asked again. “Tell me.”

  He took a deep breath and she looked into his eyes, cold and hard. “Your sister must be punished for what she has done. In fact, I must kill her in order to prevent her from bearing any more children. It is the only way.”

  He said it with such an unfeeling voice, so fairy-like. Serina balled her hands into fists. Her sharp fingernails sliced right through the soft skin of her palms, and she gasped. There were no scales there. Her blood oozed out, and it was dark and ice-cold, and sickly green. Her stomach churned.

  “You cannot kill her,” she said through gritted teeth. “I have sacrificed too much.” She looked up. “I will not let you.”

  “I will not harm her if you will promise to do one thing.”

  “Anything.”

  “I have thought this through, and Oberon agrees that it lies within the laws we must follow. It is likely Aeline will conceive another child. If you promise to kill any offspring she bears before they are of child-rearing age, Aeline may live. I cannot give more than that.”

  “But I—”

  “I know your promises are sound, Serina. When you make them, you do not mean to break them.”

  He was right.

  “If you do not make this promise, I will kill Aeline immediately. Please do not make me do such a thing.”

  “Why must I do it?”

  He shrugged. “You were the one who allowed Aeline to slip into the human realm. You had chances to try to stop her and you didn’t. You knew for years, and yet you never acted. You knew it was wrong. You must learn the consequences.”

  “To what end?” She stood and glared down at him. She wanted to kick him in the face, but knew it would accomplish nothing.

  “To understand. It is that simple. Fairies choose to come to this realm so they can learn the last piece of what makes them who they are. The humans are special. They contain light we can connect with—light that needs nurturing. Serving them in such a way completes a fairy’s life. The worst punishment is to send them here with no magic and no means to help the humans in the way a fairy naturally desires. They may find other ways to help the humans, but they will die knowing they could have done so much more.”

  “Is that what you wish for me? To die with that knowledge?”

  “You still have magic, Serina. It is deep within you, and I believe you will find it in time. If you haven’t realized already, fairies have the ability to control all the elements. Our natures are simply inclined toward one element in our younger years, so we focus on that. Mine is naturally fire and yours was water. Now that you have changed, you will find a different sort of magic within you—the kind fairies learn to wield when they come here to the human realm to help the humans. Mostly, it is based on illusions and manipulation”

  She huffed and looked away. “I guessed that you might control more than fire.”

  “I am sure you did, but you would never have guessed that water is my favorite element.”

  She felt her shoulders droop. “Water?”

  “Yes.”

  “What... what are you saying?”

  He looked away, his breaths suddenly quick and shallow. “You are exiled, Serina, so I feel I can tell you what I thought I would never be able to tell you.”

  Words formed in her mouth, but she could not say them. She could not even think them.

  “I bonded with your mother, Serina. It was forbidden, and by its very nature, the bond could not last since the natural laws forbid it. It snapped and broke of its own accord, but not before you were conceived. The break was... beyond words. You have felt what it is like to break a bond. I am still suffering.”

  He reached out to touch her hand, but she ripped it away from him. Her father? Verath? It seemed unreal and distant. Empty. All this time, she had thought he might secretly be Lief’s father. At least this better explained her mother’s connection to him, her jump to obey him at any moment. She glared at him.

  “So you insist on punishment for the most minor offences, yet you committed a sin deeper than any I can even imagine and you have not been punished. How is that right? Even my own mother forced punishment on me through you, and yet you both avoided your own! I don’t understand.”

  He lowered his hand. “Some punishments are worse than physical pain or death, just as you are discovering,” he said quietly. “The broken bond with Ellendia was punishment, and that was bad enough, but losing her through death has been excruciating. If I could choose death, I would, but losing Lief has made it clear that I am still needed to create peace between elves and fairies. I exist for things far beyond myself.”

  She turned away from his calm face. It seemed nothing could shake him, and she did not wish to try. She was an ugly, miserable creature. The darkness she had seen inside herself had seemed beautiful at one point when Lief was alive and holding her. Now it was as horrifying as her scaly skin and fiery breath. She wanted to feel love for Verath now that she knew her connection to him, but her heart felt dead, especially when she looked into his eyes and understood his love for her was not love at all—only longing for Ellendia. He did not truly care for her as a daughter. He was only fulfilling his duties. Straightening her shoulders, she knew she would do the same.

  “I promise,” she said, considering all she had sacrificed for Aeline, “I will kill any of Aeline’s offspring before they are of child-rearing age— but not until then.” How could she possibly kill a child? Or more than one? What method would bring the least amount of pain? Her mind filled with stars and thread. The image of Faireth’s spinning wheel came back to her, the pointed end of the spindle jutting into the darkness.

  Verath left the next morning. He promised to send a messenger to Aeline to explain to her that she was safe from the fairies, and although he would not promise anything on Serina’s behalf, he made sure the messenger would make it clear Serina would stay away for a period of time, especially in her dragon-form. The messenger was not told about Serina’s promise to kill any offspring. “Let Aeline live as peacefully as she can,” he said before he gathered fire around himself and disappeared into the fairy realm. His last echoing words were, “We will meet again.”

  Left alone, Serina shed her clothes and stepped into the pond of cool, clean water. She looked at her body and tried to keep back her tears, but it was impossible. She was hideous. Nobody would ever love her like this, not even Verath. Wasn’t that what every living being’s existence longed for? Love? If she lived long enough without it, her heart would turn as cold as her dragon blood.

  Scooping water over her shoulders, she tried to relax. She looked at the smooth stones surrounding the pond and suddenly remembered the sprites. They were nowhere in sight. Weeks passed. She looked for them, but could not find them. They had probably been killed or had flown away from the fiery destruction. Her heart ached for Innocence most of all. Her little voice rang through Serina’s mind. Life always thrives with death.

  Was death the same as darkness? Serina tried to close her mind to such thoughts. More weeks passed. She bathed in the pond every
day in an attempt to grow accustomed to her scales. She was eventually able to touch them without shuddering, but she did not dare change back into her dragon-form, no matter how much her heart yearned to fly.

  Verath visited every few months, always dressed in his blue robes. In the autumn chill, he sat by the pond as red and yellow leaves twirled around him. He built a fire and cooked food that no longer appealed to Serina.

  “You are growing colder,” he said as she stepped fully-clothed into the pond and speared a fish with her sharp fingernails. She shrugged and walked back out of the pond. The fish twitched in her hands, but she barely felt it. Verath’s fire was blessedly warm as she sat near the flames and stared at their brighness. She knew such heat and power existed inside her, but she had not been able to gather the courage to release it yet.

  “You told me I would grow colder,” she mumbled, bringing the fish to her mouth and taking a bite of the moist, slippery flesh. She only ate to ease the constant ache in her stomach. Food was not necessary, from what she understood.

  “Yes, and it will only get worse,” Verath said, looking away as he finished his meal. Serina wasn’t sure if she liked him coming or not. All he managed to do was remind her of everything she could no longer be. His inner light almost hurt her eyes, and his incessant chatter about his attempts to create another being like Lief was almost too much. But eventually, Verath’s visits melded into nothing more than moments of annoyance, over as fast as they had begun. She lost track of time.

  It was a warm, rainy morning when three females dressed in white stepped through the forest. Serina was lying naked on a bed of leaves, her mouth opened to the rain as she remembered what it had been like to control it. When she saw the women, she jumped.

  “Who are you?”

  “You don’t recognize us?” the first woman asked. She had golden hair, and it stuck to the sides of her face in the rain.

  “Orla?”

  The sprite giggled. “Very good.”

  “You’re in human form.”

  “Yes, we have been traveling this way for a while. It suits us for now.”

  The second sprite smiled. She had wide-set eyes the color of lavender. Nerida. “We have returned to you in order to keep our promise to protect you. We are sorry we left for so long.”

  “We had to recover,” the third sprite said. Her hair was a dark brown, the same as her eyes. She was the most beautiful, Serina thought. It was easier to see their features now.

  “I am happy you recovered,” Serina said as she looked back up at the rain, “but I don’t need protection anymore. I’m a dragon now. Nobody can harm me.”

  “We heard about that from Verath,” Innocence said, her voice tinged with sadness. “In fact, Verath has told us many things.”

  Serina sat up a little more. “What did he tell you?”

  Orla looked down at her hands. “About your oath to kill Aeline’s offspring.”

  “We have spent some time with Aeline,” Nerida explained, stepping closer to Serina. “It is one of the reasons we have been away so long.” Her footfalls crunched over crackly leaves and sticks. At least two winters had passed since Serina had seen the sprites, but time was nothing now. It all felt so minuscule here in her little part of the woods. Nothing happened. She ate and slept and watched the seasons pass. Time was only another element to endure. Looking at the sprites now, she was surprised her heart still felt so much affection for them.

  Nerida knelt in front of Serina, who was still naked but did not care. Her body was nothing but scales, nothing but an outward sign of her final punishment and judgment.

  As soon as Nerida had knelt down, the other two sprites came closer and did the same. They were so beautiful Serina almost had to look away.

  “Aeline has conceived another child,” Innocence said, her brown eyes glazing with tears. “She is overjoyed.”

  “In fact,” Orla said quickly, “her happiness seems to have cured her bitterness. When she discovered the power we can weild—as long as we are given permission—she requested we remove as much of her magical abilities as we could so no accidental harm will come to the child. We have done so, even though such a thing causes her pain.”

  Serina’s vision blurred. The rain falling gently around her suddenly felt like needles trying to pierce her scales. “It’s a shame she does not know the child must die,” she whispered.

  “At least give her a few years with the child,” Nerida said. “That much you have promised. Aeline feels truly sorry for what she has done to you.”

  “Yes.” Serina scratched at the wet soil with her nails. “She’ll be even sorrier when her child dies.” Her nails hit a rock, and she could no longer keep back her tears. They burned their way down her face.

  “She brought it upon herself,” Innocence said in an urgent voice. “Even before you were transformed, her punishment was inevitable.”

  Serina nodded, unable to answer.

  Orla leaned closer and touched the ground near Serina, her fingers trembling. “We wish to stay with you, Serina. At least let us keep you company.”

  Serina snapped her attention back to them. “You would do that?”

  “Yes,” they replied in unison.

  The sprites remained with Serina for weeks, but she knew it could not last. Like her thick scales, her heart was turning ugly and inflexible. There seemed nothing she could do to change it. When she slept, she dreamt of the earth. She saw earthquakes destroy villages. She saw fiery lava erupt from deep fissures. Humans burned, and the earth did not seem to care. There was a pitiless balance keeping everything in check. She knew sprites changed the season from warm to harsh. Ice and cold froze humans unlucky enough to get caught in a bad situation. Sprites never saw the destruction. They simply did their job and flew on. The earth kept spinning. Every night, its heartbeat seemed to grow louder in Serina’s head. Her very soul seemed to reach into its hellish core. Nothing could survive there, but she knew it kept the planet alive. She wanted to be a part of it.

  On a frosty morning as cold as the morning she had bonded with Lief, she dressed and left the cave, walking through the forest until she reached open land. The sky was still dark. It was so clear that the stars shone brightly. She hadn’t looked at them properly for a long time—only through the leafy foliage of the forest. Here they were a sparkling blanket covering the earth, and they reminded her of the time she had imagined a thread connecting them all so they could protect her. She had been naive. The person she knew as Serina was slipping away now, and nothing could protect her. But as she watched the glittering, fiery diamonds hanging in the sky, she knew the thread connecting them all stretched to her too. It touched every living thing, no matter how lost it seemed, and she tried to tuck this knowledge into the deepest part of herself, somewhere it would never die.

  Lowering herself to the ground, she rested her cheek against the thick grass. It was covered with frost, but she did not feel it. Her heart seemed to embrace the soil, the plants, the roots, the earth. It stretched for the earth’s core, finally reaching the intense heat. Humming a discordant tune, she let her body begin the transformation into her dragon-form.

  “Serina!”

  The sprites.

  Lifting her head, she sat up to see the three of them running toward her. Why they didn’t transform back into their native state, she had no idea. They seemed to think she would be more comfortable with them appearing as humans, the same size as herself. Pausing her transformation, she stood to meet them.

  “What is it?” she asked, folding her arms.

  Innocence looked as if she might burst into tears. “You are going to transform.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “And you will not return to us.”

  Serina narrowed her eyes. “How do you know that?”

  Orla tossed her hair back from her shoulders. “We’ve been watching you for weeks. Genevieve warned us this might happen.”

  “What might happen?”

  “You would chan
ge in order to carry out your promise to Verath and keep the balance.”

  “Maybe she was right.”

  “Maybe.” Nerida folded her arms, imitating Serina. “Are you sure this is what you want, Serina? You do not have to be alone. We will stay with you through the years until you must fulfill your oath.”

  Serina looked up at the stars. They were fire, just as Ellendia had said. Everything was fire, and there was no turning back.

  “I love my sister,” she said, unfolding her arms. She felt heavy all of a sudden, and fell to her knees. “Outside of Lief, who is gone now, I love her more than anybody or anything I have ever known. But she cannot love me in return. Not now. I have promised to tear away everything she lives for. Do you know what that does to me?”

  “It will break you in two,” Innocence said. In her white dress, standing beneath the glittering sky with frost dusting the landscape, she looked like a fairy. Serina wished to be back in Lisadar, surrounded by light and warmth, but it was impossible.

  She lifted her eyes to the sky, remembering what Faireth had said to her about never losing hope. “That is why I must ask the three of you to do something for me.”

  They nodded.

  “I will not remain in my dragon-form forever, but you must promise to leave me. Never come to me again unless it is to stop me from carrying out my promise to Verath.”

  Their eyes grew large, but they nodded again.

  “This means you will do everything in your power to stop me, do you understand?”

  They nodded once more, and one by one, transformed into their native forms. Their little wings fluttered as they flew to Serina, kissed her on the forehead, and flew away.

  Her face wet with tears, Serina once again put her cheek to the ground. She knew her plea to the sprites was one of her last experiences with such tender emotions. Soon, she transformed into her dragon-form. She was awkward, a lumbering beast, and this helped balance the smallness she felt inside her heart. Spreading her wings, she opened her mouth and breathed a jet of flame across the frost-laden grass. It withered like frightened snakes, smoldering as she spread her wings and flew into the starry sky.