Prologue: Arthur Kirkland his life of a hermit

Arthur Kirkland rose from his sleep as he felt a morning chill entering through the cracks of his modest cottage. He yawned groggily before hurling himself out of bed.

It was winter.

He hated the season.

His cottage was originally built by a hermit half a century ago. The hermit, who thought he could study the Holy Scriptures without disturbance in the woods, had arrived to the destined spot in spring. It was the season when flowers bloom wild and animals roamed freely. The hermit was overwhelmed by the tranquility of the unusual spot as it was undisturbed even to small animals that commonly dwell the woods of England.

The Hermit wasting no time, joyously proceeded to build a homely cottage. He grabbed his new axe and swung it at the tree nearby. The tree felled after many persistent swings. Soon, its neighbors too met the same fate.

After he had felled a satisfactory number of trees, the hermit built himself a cottage with stones and wood from fallen trees.

As it was not well built, the cottage was a decidedly unsuitable place to stay in the winter.

The hermit left the next spring.

After half a century, Arthur Kirkland, due to certain circumstances, lost the place he could call home. Luckily, his trusty companion, the fairy whose name was Sebille shown him the way to a hidden cottage so he could settle himself. The fairy Sebille was a cheeky little fellow with silvery wings which she prided herself on their famed rarity.

"Mornin', Arthur with the green eyes," whispered the three inches high fairy. She stood tiptoes on his shoulder and was leaning on his earlobes for support. Arthur felt a tickle of breath as she chuckled.

Sebille was a prankster at heart. She especially loved annoying Arthur. She knew that he hated to be reminded of the colour of his pupils for they were scorned by those of his kind.

Those times were behind Arthur, painful memories were buried.

And she dug them out. Just like how she liked digging the soil in search of her imaginary treasures.

"Arthur with the green eyes, did the cold freeze your wits as well?"

Arthur remained silent. Better to save his breath than arguing with the cheek.

He draped a winter cloak around him. It was brown and moth eaten. Then he put on a pair of winter boots, tying the cords firmly around them. They were belongings left behind by the hermit, old and unsightly, but had served to keep out the stinging cold.

Finally, he reached out for a leather bag and his yew bow.

The cheeky fairy flapped her wings shedding fairy dust that drifted in the direction of his eyes, causing Arthur to blink uncontrollably.

"What a bloody little creature you are. Keep doing that and I would not bring you to the tournament," Arthur recalled something that would deal with Sebille's impertinence.

"That's reassuring. I will just have to behave myself." Though she was wearing her cocky grin as usual, Sebille anchored herself obediently on his shoulders.

He pushed the cottage doors, the piled snow outside resisting his efforts.

"Arthur. You forgot your branch," Sebille reminded.

"Thank you."

Arthur picked up a tree branch snapped from a Rowan tree and put it in his leather bag. He hoped that the charm was sufficient to ward of dangers and keep him on the right path.


Sebille's fairy dusts drew circles in the air, making Arthur's head spin. "So what are we doing today?"

"There are many to be done. First I am to teach you the concept of discipline while you learn. Once we had it nailed—"

"Aww. I am in one of my better moods, am I not?"

Arthur did not correct her for she was right.

"I am trying to hunt some snow rabbits today. Bless the Lord if I caught a fat one."

Sebille grimaced in response.

"Savage! Have they not suffered enough from the cold winter?"

Arthur ignored the accusation. "What are you doing then?"

"Treasure hunt."

"You can't dig if the snow doesn't melt."

"You don't believe me when I say there's gold under there, do ya"

"Like how your friends told you about elves and dwarves buried treasures? Unfortunately no."

Arthur thought it was childish for the fairy to thought so as she was a full century older than he was.

"I know what you are thinking, Arthur with the green eyes. I am still young to our fairy standards but I think I am mature enough to discern the truth and false. It is the fault of humans who lack faith."

"You are blinded by it.

"I am flying away for good," threatened Sebille.

"Sure. I will miss you." Arthur face hardened as he rely his indifference. It was the usual bickering and he was not the mood to apologize.


"Come here little rabbit." Arthur saw a furry wild rabbit approaching from a distance. He was even happier to see its pack following behind. The rabbits skipped on the snow playfully. They were negligent to the approaching danger.

Arthur readied his yew bow, its size was greater than his height, and the bow cord was made with sapwood and heartwood, light and dark. As the metaphor says, God married these woods of different color to produce a long bow superior to others, the belly made from heartwood unyielding while the sapwood possesses the springiness that made the two a perfect couple.

Arthur was proud of his skills with the yew bow. He trained years and years to achieve them.

When he was ten, he was encouraged to shoot ten arrows daily, and he did as he was told, the size of the long bow increased with his age until he was given a standard yew bow.

Confident, Arthur hauled the bow strings until his hand was positioned behind the right ear, then he relied on his intuition for the shoot.

"Run! Bunnies! Run!" Sebille shouted a warning.

His hand released the goose fledged arrow while the wild rabbits ran disarrayed.

Arthur swore that the fairy was determined to starve him. His grumbles invited a few word of profanity.

But by coincidence, the arrow hit its mark. Arthur was sure he looked smug then. "Bless the Lord and his kindness." Arthur said in a self-congratulatory tone to emphasis his point.

Sebille sulked but said nothing. The cockiness in her smile vanished without its traces.

Arthur struggled towards his prey for the snow was up to his boots. Slow and steadily, he retrieved the dead rabbit. The snow around it was stained with its blood, glowing pinkish in the morning sun, the air was stank with a metallic smell of blood and innards Arthur pulled the arrow from the dead body to be reused again. The yew bow, famed for its abilities to shoot arrows that could pierce through armor, had unnecessarily punctured a hole through the animal, which could be seen on both sides.

"Stay away from me." Sebille protested, pinching her nose in disgust.

"You bloody well know I can't live on dry nuts and acorns."

"I promised to collect enough for us!" she retorted.

"And did you?" Arthur knew it was impossible given the season. He was further assured when he eyed at Sebille half filled sack.

"We can eat tree barks."

"No."

"Why don't you be useful and kill a fox or two instead of preying on weaker animals?"

"We don't seem to see one since morning, do we?"


A snowball hit him in the face, followed by a dozen more until he toppled under the force of combining thrusts.

"Look everybody! Green eyes Arthur, once again, killed another poor animal." The statement was received with hysterical screams.

"Do you fairies have to give me the snowball treatment every time I come home with breakfast?" he glared at the approaching crowd of winter fairies.

"Not until you swear not to kill," a fairy from the crowd suggested.

"Yes she's right. Now you swear," said a throaty voice. Arthur recognized a plump fairy who agreed with anyone regardless what they said.

The others took the cue, followed suit. Winter fairies chanted along like a swarm of buzzing bees in pursuit of their offender.

"But what if he does not keep his word?" a voice asked.

"She has a point." The fairies murmured. "Sebille what should we do?"

The fairies look up to Sebille for she was their 'Wise One'. The winter fairies are country bumpkins that had never left their special spot since they were born. The winter fairies were a queer breed that hibernates during the seasons while other animals were not, they were no less than 30 in population, and were also the ones who cast a spell to the territory surrounding the cottage. The spell was effective when it came to keeping away animal intruders but had failed to protect it from humans. The winter fairies were further offended when they found out an Arthur Kirkland living in the abandoned cottage in place of the hermit when they woke up from their pleasant slumbers. Thus, their animosity towards him.

"Sebille care to help?" Arthur dusted the snow covering his face. They were red for the icy snow burned his delicate cheeks noses. His teeth were clattering too.

Sebille sighed under Arthur's watchful glance.

"Fellow fairies I plea you listen to my words, for there are none truer than they are. This poor rabbit was preyed upon by an incurable sickness until my companion and I found it. Our hearts bled as we see it being tortured beyond helping. My kind-hearted friend could not bear the sight and stabbed the poor animal with his sharpest arrow so it could die in a quick death. Can't you see we are doing it a favour? We even brought it back to give the poor fellow a proper burry."

Sebille lie invoked sobs and wails. Both of them retreated into the cottage.

"I thought I heard that one before."

"I guess so."

"Don't tell me you are out of fresh excuses."

"Have you considered to stop hunting rabbits?"

"They are delicious. Healthy."

"Savage."

Despite her discontent, Sebille was always on his side.


Arthur removed the rabbit of its fur and washes the blood. He was undecided of how to make use of it so he tossed it into a pail where most of the fur ended up in. He then removed the innards before moving towards the more delicate procedure of cutting the dark flesh. He boiled the innards with cut wild vegetables in store that were starting to rot despite the cold weather. He floured the meat, skewered them on a stick and roasted them on fire. He drooled at sight of developed muscles of the rabbit's foot despite himself.

The cottage had a sizeable kitchen so Arthur worried less about burning the cottage down and felt safe to cook his meals in there. It also had a ventilation hole to let out the smoke.

What did the winter fairies think the smell was?

Sebille assured that they were dim witted creatures that didn't give the smoke thought.

Arthur felt a guilty conscience dawning upon him.


"We will be in time. Don't fret."

"I am not fretting you fool! I am just excited!"

"God bless her."

Arthur was glad that his companion was in a happy mood. As promised, Arthur journeyed to the edge forest, coming closer to civilization than he ever had in months. He was reluctant at first but Sebille insisted that he take her. Trapped between conflicts of the danger that followed their visit and the uneasiness their separating, Arthur decided there was someone that he longed to see after months of hiding.

Arthur turn back to see a fairy trailing behind them. The mouth had not stop since they left."Do you mind that I come along too? Of course you do not. Why else let me accompany you? Wait what if you are secretly against this. Oh no what have I done." Following Arthur and Sebille was a fairy with a meek voice but have many to say. She flapped her transparent wings in a giddy fashion as her mouth ran, shy eyes never dared to look upwards.

Arthur wondered if the stranger ever needs to pause to breath. She must be so excited to leave the winter fairies' territory for the first time.

"Happy aren't ya? First time away?"

The fairy paused and looked thoughtful.

"Yes and no. I am happy. We will see knight joust after all. They wear shining armor? Why a shining armor? Are they heavy? Do they rust? If they do, do the knights buy a new one? Why are all knights nobles-"

It was pointless as a proper discussion failed to coexist with her quirks. Arthur ignored the bombardment of questions.

"What is the name of the charming lady?" Arthur asked Sebille instead.

"Faye, meaning fairy."

"I thought that was your name."

"It's French." Sebille flew to sit on his shoulders. "How much farther to the castle, Arthur?"

A/N: A thousand thanks to anyone who read the chapter. Please leave a feedback to tell me your thoughts.