Disclaimer: Hey…is it necessary to disclaim each chapter? Or can I just disclaim the whole fic in the first chapter and let it at that? Confuzzling, really.
Warning: Nothing to fear-- yet! *^-^* Of course I'm only teasing.
A stream of light creeps just over the horizon, dispelling the remainder of the darkness. I watch as the sun slowly rises from the treetops; the whole world is a glittering, serene shade of a hazy pink rose. Awakening from a night of restless slumber, I force myself from the softness of my pillow and step onto the cold earthen floor, breathing in the clarity of dawn. Dried candle wax creates a inconsistent pattern upon the flat wood surface of the low table at which I sit, rubbing my eye absently as the area of my vision comes into view.
I only have one eye, so it often takes a few moments to see things as clearly as I can; sometimes I see things as very far away, although they may be right before me. A small violet coronal has been made by what have been distinguished as 'faeries', another present for me. I wonder if perhaps they dote on me, as I do on them. Or maybe they are to tell me about themselves in some peculiar language which I am unable to decipher.
Picking it up carefully, I gaze at the intricacy of how it was pieced together, by hands much smaller than my own; some, not hands but webs or hooves. The fair purple color is fading slightly, it must have been made in the night. Why…why do they do such things? Yawning silently, I rise up to clothe myself properly.
How odd. Why bother to wear clothing at all, here in the deep wood? They wear nothing, they have no need, for they are perfect. I believe it is my upbringing instilled in me that persuades me to dress as a man, although I am totally secluded from mankind.
It could be, also, that I fear to… show them what a human is like. I feel deformed when I observe their perfection, and in a way, it is painful. That is why, that must be why I still am… as a man, at least in my guise.
It is now bright enough for me to see undoubtedly everything around me. I draw up my loose trousers around my hollowed waist, pulling on my chestnut-brown roes over top, fumbling with the sash. It seems, these days, I can never keep it closed; the wind is always seeking to free me from the last chains of mortality.
My favorite place is on the vast green hills. I look out over the expanse of land beneath, the massive trees. It is also where they can be found occasionally, peering at me in my meditations and giggling, queer sounds ringing through the eternity of air. Tiptoeing on blades of swaying grass, they crawl into my lap, eyes filled with knowledge and purity. This is when I am happiest of all. I cannot describe to you…this incredible feeling…
Knowing that you are not entirely alone. Knowing that, to some degree, these absolutely faultless beings crave to be in your presence, though you may feel unworthy and filthy in comparison.
There can be no comparison, I am sure of this.
I focus on one of them, a male, I suppose, from his facial features. He is in transformation. Crouched, still, his lovely body contorts, twists, fragments in such a wonderful yet horrifying way; I cry out, involuntarily, at the process, causing the others to become overly startled. They flutter about, disorganized, hurriedly, dissipating into the space around me in an instant.
He's disappeared as well.
My defect has driven them away; at least, temporarily. But I do this habitually, without meaning to. I do not want them to leave me. I close my eye tight, attempting to shut out the tears coming, wrap my long, thin arms around my passive body. I don't want them to…run away…
I stand up miserably. The more I try to understand them, the farther away they fly, leaving my weak heart in turbulence. What is wrong with me? I should be more subtle. They are not ones who take delight in excitement or discord. Brushing myself off gently, I start to make my way down the hill, toward my dwelling in the abode. Sometimes if I return to it, they will come out again, ringing the bells playfully to show their forgiveness.
Someone is watching me. I keep getting peculiar sensations down my spine, icy fingers tapping along the bones methodically. It's probably them; they want me to come out, but I fear to frustrate them anymore. To drive away their beauty is what a foolish soul like myself could do without realizing it. If I can only observe them from afar, then it shall be so. As long as they don't leave entirely, I am content.
Spinning around in a rhythmatic dance, they hover above my head as I lie on the floor, staring past them into the ceiling. Were I one of them, I should penetrate even the sky itself, like a dragon in spring. I would feel nothing at all. Nothing, a cloud, gently floating across the ocean of the horizon. One or two land on my face, looking into my eye curiously.
I suddenly lose all desire for silence. "Why-- why do you choose to let me see you?" My voice sounds raspy, strained. They are not troubled by this; a female puts her wings against my eye, I see an intense scream of color. Another nips mischievously at my fingertips.
Why… "Why…why not someone beautiful…like you…"
"Why choose someone so disgusting?"
"Why have you granted me… such a wonderful thing as this…?" Clenching my fists in depression.
Just as I ask these things, the beating of paper wings ceases. Gone.
Please…don't leave…
In my garden, the last of the fallen flowers I remove from the ground, preserving the grass beneath my socked foot alive, for a little while before the snow. The decaying fragrance is heavy on my sleeves, suffocating in its promise of eminent death. Sighing, I kneel down beside the herbs I have grown for medication.
At rare times, an errant knight will pass through the wood, usually escaping pursuing knights of some domain. Injured, more than usually; so I keep a fair amount of curing substances within my abode in clay jars. It is the only time I ever make contact with other humans.
Recently, a very young and handsome man passed through, his hair the color of midnight. His wounds had been rather serious, and when I found him he lay dying astride his horse by the lake. I remember when he came to, he was surprised at my own youthfulness:
"They said there was a mystic in these woods-- but I perceived that you might be very old…"
I feel old, in my mind, in my spirit. But my countenance remains light.
When I sent him onward, for he had many conquests ahead of him, he swore he would return someday to call on me, as gentlemanly knights do, I suppose. He thanked me over and over, claiming that love was at stake and how without my abilities that love would have never known him.
I could not explain to him that I'd never felt that before. I've felt elation, from the so-called 'faeries'; their very presence is electrifying. But love? Truly, I have yet to know it.
These memories are tiresome. To continue thinking on them only causes my heart to ache.
I gaze fixedly at the ground, shoulders hunched over in my despair. Will I never come to comprehend these ones I adore so much? How can I go on, knowing that I can never fully grasp them and their thought process?
The trees rustle. Wind shatters my downward mind-set, jolting me with a wintry breath. The seasons are changing upon the mountains.
I glance up inattentively, my eye is drawn to his.
Two rubies watching me with all inquisitiveness, as he slowly reveals himself from the blurry shadows.
O.o What next?
Chichiri: Mystery creature, take me away no da!
.' Keep reading!