I wandered wearing an appearance that no one knows but me, and the whiff of smoke that tailed me. I expected the shadowing. There were several requests for sociable visitation waiting for me at the lair. Just not feeling sociable. The spoon factory is still on backorder. The requests remained on the table next to the growing miniature lotus. (I should get a sunstone to put in the ceiling above it. No windows, after all.)
I wandered. Through the City and the surrounding shifting suburbs. The City tried to accommodate me, presenting me neighborhoods that it felt best matched my mood, trying to give me a place to stop a while. The Envoy pisses me off annoys me on a regular basis, but I can never be mad at the City itself. The more it tried, the more I understood I should probably be away from other people. Other humans, anyway. Just not feeling particularly human myself.
I wandered. Through underworld caverns, and over insurmountable peaks. Beside rivers threatening to burst their banks, and in the dry interiors of dessicated deserts. No where was a place where I could just stop and be.
I wandered. Not noticing the dense arboreal forest that was slowly engulfing me. Restless, I wasn’t looking where I was going. I just went. It was a while before I realized the plants of the forest were actively trying to snare me. A path that was empty and broad when I approached it, was suddenly close and catching on my skin.
I stopped. Out of curiosity, I held still to see what the forest would do. Tendrils of sudden growth grew sideways to wrap gently around my arms. A flowering bush draped a new verdant branch across my chest, but instead of sprouting thorns and leaves, it burst into large buds that opened to reveal small green fae.
As green as the shoots that bore them, they clambered over me in the dozens. They spoke in scents and colors, in bright flashes and sudden changes in smells, they welcomed me back.
Back?
Have I been here before? I wasn’t sure. This forest was ancient before my ancestors stood upright. The forest folk were sure I had been here, and laughed at my confusion.
The path I had intended to take was closed off with new branches suddenly grown across it. I could make my way through if I still insisted. But the forest wanted me to go a different direction.
Why not? I had no place special to be anyway.
Off to my right, bushes and branches pulled themselves away, forming an untrodden path. The fae on my shoulders pointed in that dark direction and spoke in the scent of roses and oranges. I complied and entered the depths of the forest.
The forest itself moved around me. The vertigo inducing shift stopped and I knew I had been moved to a different area. The trees opened another path to an brightly lit area and I followed.
I emerged at the edge of the forest. The hill sloped away gently and rippled under the sea of grasses. Far in the distance I could see the City. Just off to my right, was a cabin.
Oh. I knew where I was.
I took a deep sigh as I remembered. A woman did something she shouldn’t have and wound up stuck in this realm. I eventually got her home, but the cabin was trashed in the process. Last I saw, the cabin was empty and in disarray. There is smoke in the chimney now and a new front door. The fae wanted me to knock on the door.
“Guys, I’m not up for any trouble today.” I shake my head and start to walk away.
“Trouble for what?” Shit. I turn to find a squat little man, in squat little robes, with a squat pointy hat, and a long grey beard in the process of being brushed and groomed. If a dwarf wanted to cosplay as Gandalf, here was the prize winner.
“Eh. Is this your cabin, Sir?”
“Aye. From the look on your face, I say you had a hand in what happened here.” He never stopped brushing his beard, but looked at me with a judgmentally jovial eye.
“Yes, Sir. I did. A woman was trapped here, and I got her home. In the process, the forest folk freed their kin she had trapped in her desperation to get home.” I bowed slightly after admitting my guilt. If he demanded recompense, I was on the hook for it.
“That was quite a mess left behind. I’d make ya clean it up, but I’ve already taken care of it.” His brush got caught in a snag. He yanked at it but it was stuck fast. “A mess for a mess, then. Groom my beard, and plait it neatly, and I’ll call it even work.”
The fae on my shoulders offered to help. I was quick to refuse. “Aww hell no, you guys. I see the glint in your eyes. For every knot I work loose, y’all will tangle two more!” They tried to keep a straight face and protest but too quickly they collapsed in giggling admissions of that very intent.
The squat little man brought a high seated chair to the porch. When hopped up in it, he was still too low for me to stand and groom his beard. But when I sat down, he was at the right height. I worked the brush free and began untangling the matted beard. It was at that awkward length where self-care would miss areas, but a second pair of hands would be too swift work.
He asked if the woman ever returned. “If she has, I haven’t come across her.” He asked why did the forest accept me. “Probably because I’m not fun to torment. I tend to set things on fire.” The observing fae laughed in sudden glee. This did not make me settled. I asked if he had an oil for his beard, to find the woman had used all of it as the base for her experimental concoctions. Until he could get more, he would have to keep the beard braided.
He was relishing the attention. When I apologized for pulling tightly on the beard as I started braiding, he waved the words away. “You’re doing fine, girl. A moment of discomfort is a good price for a job well done!” His beard was neatly braided to nearly the very end. I left a finger’s curl loose at the end and bound the braid so that the curl moved freely. When I lifted the beard’s end to show him, he raised an eyebrow in surprise.
“Just enough to show the beard has life in it.” He smiled, approving of the curl. He told me to wait at the porch while he inspected my handiwork. He hopped off his chair and ran inside. I heard many happy exclamations and self adorations. Soon he was back at the porch. He had added adornments to the beard’s tie that made a gentle clinking as he moved.
“You have done more than I asked! I am happy with your work, happy indeed! I must help you as you have helped me!” He carried a tall staff that had a crook at the top. The crook was higher than my head and a lantern hung from it. I asked how did I go above what was requested, when I was trading one mess for another. Fearing a trap of implied indenture, I started to say I was not in need nor want of anything.
“Everyone wants something. Very few know what they truly want. I wanted my beard merely groomed. I did not realize I truly wanted to be pampered until you did so. You are looking for something, but you don’t know what. I’m going to help you find it. You did as was your nature to do. Allow me to do by mine.” He stamped his staff against the ground and held the dark lantern over my head. It suddenly flared brightly before settling into a dim glow. “I can tell you’ve been around fae for a while. You are very anxious to avoid debts.”
“One could say that.”, was my only answer as the waist-high man walked widdershins around me with the lantern. When he returned to his starting point, he leaned the staff in the direction of the City. The light faded such that I thought it ceased.
“Heh. Thought you wouldn’t want anything from there right now. Had to check anyway.” He leaned it towards the cabin and the light warmed to a dim glow. “That would feed ya, but not sustain ya.” He leaned it towards the open prairies and the light warmed more but was still slight. “I think that’s where you’ve already been.” He leaned it towards the forest and it brightened such that I couldn’t look at it for long. He smiled knowingly. “As I thought, but always good to check, eh?”
He didn’t wait for an answer but went ahead following the lantern. The scattered fae climbed on me and urged me to follow. I felt a deep inconsolable sadness as I did so, but I do not understand why.
Deeper and deeper he went into the forest. Seemingly impenetrable undergrowth parted just enough for he and I to pass, only to close behind us. I collected more fae passengers as we went. They crowded into every pocket, every fold of cloth, and fought for position on my head and shoulders. The only space they did not invade was my travel satchel, though they tried with fierce determination anyway.
The canopy thickened until the multiple layers prevented the sun’s light from reaching the ground. The undergrowth changed from flexible leafy shrubs, to winter blasted twigs, to ancient logs covered in lichen and fungus. The only light visible was the tall brightening lantern held by the squat little man, but now the light shone as fiercely as a halogen bulb. I feared it would attract too much attention.
Many of my original fae passengers left as the sunlight faded. I had only four clinging to me now, but they were the size of newborn babes. Little sharp teeth and little sharp claws gnashed at me, but when I didn’t react they just clung to my back and head curious to see where we would wind up.
Larger fae walked beside. Walked and crawled and lumbered and flew. A great variety were accompanying me. Some were scary and some were sweet. Some were a mess and some were neat. Some were huge and some were small. They came with me, one and all.
The lantern suddenly flared and ceased entirely. In the smothering dark, the little squat man’s voice rang out. “Ha! Found it! We’re here!”
Here… where? I couldn’t see anything. It was chilly and damp. A slight breeze blew through the enchanting crowd reminding me of night. A tiny flare caught my eye. I turned to see he was in the process of lighting a little pipe. He was in the branch of a tree, over my head. The dark lantern staff leaned against the trunk. As I wondered how he got up there, my eyes adjusted to the strange night’s darkness.
We were at the edge of a clearing. Around the meadow I could see the forest as a living wall. Keeping something out, or keeping something in? The clearing was exposed to the open sky. Stars moved in impossible orbits, forming and reforming constellations in a pattern that excluded me. Large rounded boulders and rocks were everywhere, covered by moss and lichens.
“I don’t know what’s here, Sir. I’ve never been here before.” Dark loving fae were still emerging from the forest. They were interested in the man’s pipe, taking great interest when he had to relight it.
“You’re here! That’s what matters. Yes.” It was clear I was expected to do something, but what? He looked me over and smiled. I felt my sorrow deepen. “You said you are not fun to torment, because you set things on fire. Your soul, girl, is in pain. I suggest you set it on fire.” He spoke so matter-of-factually it pierced me. I could not hold back the tears anymore.
The sizzle surprised me. The gathered fae gasped and backed away at first before surging forward in curiosity. A flaming tear had fled my face, singeing the moss at my feet. I wiped more tears away and looked at them in my hand. My tears were on fire? No. My tears were fire.
This is the wrong place to become living flame, I thought. The trees were tightly packed and the winter wind was devoid of humidity. I backed away from the forest edge, deeper into the clearing. I wanted to keep my cool, to remain inert, but the pain wouldn’t remain swallowed anymore. I scrambled further into the clearing, hoping the rocks and boulders would be able to hold the heat I was about to release. I turned to see many fae had followed me. I tried to shoo them away.
“No, no. Go back. I’m no fun. I’ll burn you. I burn everything… everyone… that gets close. With a word… with words… I can, and will, sear you with wounds that never heal. Just ask… just… go back…” My heart… no… not now… The fae surrounded me completely, my emotional pain drawing them in. Everyone likes to watch a train wreck, no matter what they say. I collapsed and curled into a knot on the cold damp ground. I have to get my emotions under control. I can’t release this pain, can’t release this flame that I am. I can’t allow myself to hurt anyone else. I can’t. Not again.
My sudden laughter sliced the crowd. Some backed away, some joined in ignorant of the joke. Who the fuck am I trying to protect? The god damn Fae or my fragile self-deception of what I think I am?
I uncurl and lay prone on the boulder. I can see the flames above my eyes as the tears continue to flow. They sizzle fiercely as they ran down the cold boulder.
In a quiet whisper, I surrender. “Burn, bitch. Burn.”
I am. I am not. Too hot blood boils and flesh is sublimated to plasma. The boulder under me shouts in a sharp retort as the heat shatters it. I hear the surrounding fae scramble to get to a more comfortable distance. Above me, the stars sweep each other in delightful ignorance of the impossible flame below that tries to outshine them.
As my initial explosion settles into a comfortable conflagration, I sit up and take stock of the damages. Several large boulders are now several dozen fragments. All the fae are out of reach. The stars are indifferent. The little squat man is asleep in the tree.
I consider becoming human again, now that the bulk of the emotional firewood was burned away. But the thought wrenches my soul. I don’t know what to do, so I roll balls of fire in my hands and idly toss them at random fragments.
A ball of water suddenly splashes in my lap, steaming the fractured boulder and boiling on my body. Taking it as an act of war, I flare in a show of force. In the sudden bright light, I see what looks like a human girl. About six years of age, with her nappy hair pulled back into two puffs, she looks like she could be related to me. Only her wings, looking like fanciful fins, gave away that she was fae. She held a ball of water in her hands, but her eyes were friendly.
She tossed another ball of water at me, but I made a little fire vortex and pushed the ball back. She laughed and brightened when the now warm water hit her. Another ball of water, another return in game. She approached but I could see the heat was drying her out.
I reduced the amount of flame so she could approach a little closer. But she wanted to get near me. I diminished myself a little more each time, but she really wanted to get near me. I realized as long as I had any forward facing flame, she could not approach.
But snuffing out the forward facing flames meant becoming human again. And I was not sure I was ready for the avalanche of emotions that accompanied it. A ball of water landed in my lap again. I looked up to see she had turned around and was vigorously flapping her fin-wings at me. She then turned, pointed at her dimples beside her smile, and rocked her head back and forth.
Ah. I get it. She looks mostly human, but is not. A water fae, her wings bear the mark of her element, but otherwise she appears human. So, if I were to follow her example…
The clearing is suddenly darkened as most of my flames cease. But the cloak, now really an extension of myself than a piece of clothing, billows behind me as a pair of inflamed wings. I’m mostly human again, but I’m not ready for the heaviness of it. My hands are still plasma.
She runs forward and gives me a kiss on my too warm face. Laughing and happy that she gets to touch me, she draws silly happy faces on my cheeks and plays water ball with my hands. Many of the fae come forward and crowd me as well. A great variety of them watch as this example of fire and this example of water play in mutual peace.
She points at my hands and holds her own up. I mimic. She makes a water ball between hers, I make a fire ball. She hollows out her water ball so it is a squat bowl. It takes some thought, but I manage to mimic the same. In the hollow of my fire bowl, she drops a smaller ball of water. It boils away almost at once.
I lower my hands sadly, but she claps and motions for me to do it again. Does she know something about me that I don’t? I make the fire bowl, and she drops a water ball in it again. I focus on keeping the heat inside the fire and not radiating it outward. The water ball lasts a minute longer than before. She looks up at me with a challenge clearly written on her face. Challenge accepted.
The stars mark time forwards and backwards above us as she drops a ball of water in my hands time and time again. Each time, I am able to keep the water a little longer before it boils. Until, it doesn’t boil. It becomes warm, but it doesn’t boil.
In my shout, I lose control of the firebowl and the water ball falls directly on my plasma hands. Remembering how I kept the fire bowl from boiling the water, I do the same with my hands. I cup the water, the barely warm water, in hands that could melt iron. I cup the water, and show the fae my triumph.
She reaches forward and grabs my plasma hands directly. “You can do this with your friends now. You can be yourself, and not burn them.” Burning tears pour anew. I shook my head. Humans are more delicate than the fae. She places my plasma hands on her human appearing face. “Only when they want to be.”, was her reply.
I understood what she had shown me. My sorrow returned as I understood my motivations for not wanting to learn.
An instinct I don’t understand guided me to pick up a piece of heat fractured stone. A small piece, about the size of a golf ball. In my plasma hands, I squeezed it until it melted into a ball of lava, then carefully reformed it. I asked her to slowly drip water into the spaces between my fingers until the sizzling stopped. I opened my hands to reveal a rough semi-translucent gem. As it cooled in the night air, it turned a cloudy blue that held a hint of purple flash in it. I gave it to the water fae. “Thank you. I need to be alone now, but this is yours to do as you will.” She squealed in tones that only happy fae can make and tucked the gem away. She kissed me on the cheek one last time, and left. Most of the fae followed her, pestering her to show them the gem she is keeping to herself.
I hear snoring suddenly cut short. “Eh? Is it time to go? Shall I lead the way out?” The little squat man came down the tree and ambled swiftly across the clearing to me.
“No, Sir. You go on. I have other ways to leave here. I… I need to be alone for a while.” The starlight dimmed as clouds began to collect overhead. A passing storm was coming through. A little wind. A lot of rain. Good. I need the exposure.
He started to come closer, but I turned exposing him to the fire wings behind me. He paused, but didn’t back away. As I started to make my way closer to the center of the clearing, the first rain drops started to fall on me. There was something I wanted to experience, and I knew I probably won’t get this clear (or safe) a chance again. I inflamed completely again as rain drops sizzled on my head and shoulders.
“That’s not safe, girl. A fire thing shouldn’t be out when the rain is at the fullest.” He stamped his lantern staff and leaned it towards the way we entered. It glowed fiercely, showing the footpath out.
“What am I, Sir? Someone said I am Fire made flesh. Someone said I am [redacted] incarnate. Someone said I am a delusional animal. Someone said I am animate dust. What am I? I’m mixed up. The wrong parts show at the wrong time. I am a blank of iron on the anvil, but there is more than one smith hammering on me. Each one has an ideal they want to shape me into, but so much of me is being undone, reworked, and reformed, I don’t know what I am. Am I a fire thing? If I can stand where a fire things can’t, then I’m not. Look. It’s pouring down. My flames only burn brighter. I am not weakened. I am.” I sigh, burning tears race cold raindrops to the ground. “Go home, Sir. The humidity will wreck your beard, and it is a lovely thing.”
I didn’t wait for an answer. I turned and continued walking towards the clearing’s center. The rain poured ever heavy on me, soon obscuring sight of the little squat man and all else around me. I felt the worlds shift around me and I knew I was wandering again. I closed my eyes and kept going. Maybe this is what I’m supposed to be. Ever in motion. Never at rest. I wander.