Chapter 5

In Which I Try (Really Hard) Not to Laugh

I managed to get back to Ashley's shortly after midnight. She would probably be on her date still, but I needed to talk to her about what happened ASAP.

Surprisingly, she was lying in bed watching television when I flew in through the open window. I quickly closed it behind me; it was way too cold to leave open. Ashley was wearing her pajamas, on open bottle of nail polish on the bedside table, toenails half-finished. But she wasn't painting them; the paint had long since dried. She was just staring blankly at the screen.

I waved at her, called her name, even snapped my fingers in front of her face, but she didn't respond at all until I walked right in front of her and blocked her view of the tv.

"Oh. Hey Rona."

"Hey, Ashley." I waited for her to react, but she just blinked.

"What's up with you?" She shrugged.

"Dunno. Just tired."

"Ooookay… How was the date? Shitty?"

"Nah, I didn't go."

"Wait, what? Why not?" She shrugged again.

"Didn't feel like it."

I stared at her, but it wasn't entirely unlike Ash to blow something off like that. I had thought she'd become more responsible in the past months, but then again change isn't immediate or absolute. Besides, I needed to tell her what happened with Jack.

"So get this…"

"And then you totally did it."

"No way-"

"But you wanted to; admit it!" I didn't answer, but I could feel my face turning bright red and she laughed triumphantly.

"Hah, I knew it! Don't be embarrassed, Jack is pretty cute. Besides, this is good, it means you're finally getting over you-know-who." I frowned at that.

"I don't know… Jack is great and all, but we're friends. Good friends. I don't want to ruin that by having feelings for him. He probably just thinks of me as a friend, too." I cringed. "It's gonna be really awkward next time we see each other."

"What, because you fell asleep while he was holding you?" I nodded.

"Honestly, Rona, I thought you were the smart one. He definitely likes you. Why else would anyone put up with your snoring?"

"I do not snore!" I picked up a pillow and smacked her upside the head with it.

All intelligent conversation essentially ceased after that.

I spent the next two days in hiding. Jack and I had been planning to go looking for a place for me to call my home on a more permanent basis, but I was still too embarrassed to face him. So instead I flew out on my own early the next morning, taking care not to go anywhere predictable or follow any pattern.

I traveled to Greece first, which was even more beautiful than the postcards made it seem. I visited the youth hostel my sister went to once, the one with the best view of the cliffs. It was pretty impressive, but nothing compared to the view at the very top of the cliffs, too unstable for most people to walk to. It would have been perfect, except that there was no shelter.

And so I moved on the next day to Australia. Warm, beautiful, deadly, terrifying, why-the-hell-are-there-so-many-spiders Australia. No thank you.

Three days later I found myself in Ireland. It was colder than I had been expecting, and I made so to keep a layer of warm air around me. I explored the old, forgotten places of Southern Ireland, and found myself drawn to an old, abandoned house in Wicklow. It was called, somewhat ironically, Windgate House. Some of the windows were empty, but the walls were in decent shape, and it was near a large, open field as well as a forest.

I felt at home there. It was peaceful, if a bit isolated.

Then I heard an accented voice coming from the forest.

Maybe not as isolated as I thought…

I ignored the voice for a while, but curiosity got the best of me. I hadn't seen any cars nearby, nor other houses. Who was wandering around in the woods?

The answer came in the form of a somewhat short man with bright red hair, dressed all in green. I nearly laughed when I saw him, he was the absolute stereotype of a leprechaun. Which made a lot more sense when he turned and addressed me directly.

"And what are you smirking about? If you're gonna be around here, the least you could do is help!" I blinked, shocked at the rather abrupt greeting (if it could even be called a greeting). However, it helped me get past the hilarity of his clothing and notice that he had been fixing a small door in the base of a rather large tree. Inside I could just barely see a set of spiral stairs that led into the ground.

"Are you gonna stand there staring or are you going to help?" Oh, right. The door.

Silently, I stepped forward and grabbed the corner of the door, lifting it and holding it in place so her could finished securing the hinges. It was a lot heavier than it looked, now I understood why he had demanded help instead of my name. Within the minute that I held it, my arms began to ache and burn. I couldn't have been more thankful when he finally stepped back and said 'Done.'

I flexed my arms a bit, stretching them out, and then waved at the leprechaun.

"Hello, I'm Rona."

"Oh, yes, the Witch of the Wind, yes?" I blinked.

"Uh, yes. You've heard of me?"

"I have. I like to keep tabs on what is happening with the other spirits." He stared at me and I squirmed, a bit uncomfortable with his directness. He seemed to be assessing me.

Then I blinked and he was gone.

"Huh?" The door opened and he waved to me from inside.

"Come on in, would you like something to drink? Do you take your tea with sugar or honey?"

"How did you-?"

"You're not the only one with magic." He disappeared down the stairs. I shrugged and followed him down into a surprisingly large chamber. The walls were simple wood, unfinished but smooth to the touch. There were two tables, a small round one with three chairs around it. The other was long, rectangular and lower to the ground, with eight chairs neatly pushed in.

He hurried over to the far corner of the room, where there was a new-looking stove and an old icebox, as well as some cabinets. He pulled out an old teapot and set it on the stovetop and turned it on (how did he get electricity down here?) and put some dry, crushed leaves into it.

I sat down at the round table and looked around. The room was sparsely decorated; no bed, nothing on the walls, not even a desk. Just the tables and the little kitchen area. It was very quiet down here, disconcertingly so.

"So, what's your name?" I couldn't just call him 'leprechaun', right?"

"Patrick." I barely managed to stop myself from laughing, disguising it as a cough instead. He just sighed, having gotten this reaction many times before.

"Yes, I know. There's a reason that leprechauns are always dressed in green with red hair. I invented the stereotype, after all." I finally managed to calm down and speak without giggling.

"So, you're the first leprechaun?"

"Just as you're the first Witch of the Wind." I frowned, confused, but he continued on.

"Humans can imitate us as much as they want, but we are the originals. The legends exist because we exist, not the other way around. We create our own stories. Belief in a spirit cannot exist unless a spirit wants to be believed in."

"I guess that makes sense. I never really thought about it before…" He scoffed.

"What, do you think we choose to model ourselves after legends? We are the legends. You'll see, if you stay in one place long enough, the people will begin telling stories about you. Maybe a ghost story, an urban legend, a myth."

"Wait, so does that mean every story is true? Like the ancient Greek myths or the… um…" I trailed off at his stare.

"Not all stories. Most, but not all." He grimaced. "Why would anyone wants those stories to be true? Their gods were cruel and disgusting at the best of times. Some beliefs you should be glad are unfounded in reality."

I'm going to stop this chapter there, but keep your eyes open for the next chapter, It'll be much less boring I promise! As always, please review, follow and favorite if you're enjoying the story!