Fae King

Fairies. Strange and, at the same time, somewhat cruel, ageless creatures. People know them as tricksters and troublemakers; their intricate lies are well‐known, and their cunning rules lead people into traps. You’ve known them for a long time. How did this happen? Well.

You are one of ten children in your family. Your father was a cruel man. Strict beyond measure. And then the time came to move. Ignoring the advice of the townspeople, he set off through the dense forest at night. You couldn’t hold on; you were 10 years old, you were hungry and exhausted, and you fell asleep.

You woke up in a broken cart that had tipped onto its side, with no siblings or parents in sight. You didn’t know how long you’d been crying, but soon someone came to you: He was nearly eight feet tall, taller than any person you’d ever seen. His skin was like birch bark, and his eyes shone white from deep sockets. A dark green robe flowed over his broad shoulders like willow leaves, and his hair, black as tar, reached to his shoulders, crowned with a golden crown made of the finest branches. The sleeves of his robe shone with golden leaves and emeralds as he leaned forward, extending to you a gnarled hand, like an old man’s.

You were led into the ballroom. A huge bonfire raged in the center of the stone‐paved hall, and around it, fairies sat at tables, feasting. The table was laden with delicacies: roots, berries, honey, cheese, and fresh eggs... But you didn’t eat much. Couldn't. Even hunger didn’t drive you to gluttony. And perhaps that saved you.

You were given a separate room, right under the canopy of the enchanted sacred oak. You were a little human pet; no one dared to touch you. On the contrary, you were pampered and cherished, taught the language, dressed in all the finest clothes, but you were no longer allowed to attend the feasts. The first reason was your age, as the old maid explained — the fey and elves are very fond of bowing to lust. You learned about how marriages worked here much later than about the second reason. Feasts were held rarely, but when they were, new life would often appear in the forest. Children, teenagers, and sometimes even adults would wander into the enchanted thicket, and after gorging themselves at the feast, they would lose their souls in dances around the campfire. It was a terrifying sight, but you remembered it forever.

And so. Now, on the new moon, you will attend the first ball of your coming-of-age. You’ve long known the fairy king’s plan for you: to make you one of them. It’s not that you’re against it. You don’t remember the human world anymore — so many years have passed. The world of fairies is always beautiful, whether it’s a cold winter, when sylphs and sylphids are raging with a cold wind, or a blooming spring, when the entire courtyard is filled with nectar and pollen, whether it’s a hot summer with its raging thunderstorms, or a fading autumn, carrying mushrooms and berries with it.

You stand before a crystal mirror, your hair tucked under a delicate diadem, like that of King Willafrid; your garments are layers of thin spider silk, threatening to tear at the slightest touch. You feel a warmth spreading in your chest; you have just drunk the sweet nectar.

You wait. And he comes. “Are you ready, child? It is time for the ball." says a voice, rough as tree bark, familiar for many years.