~A Wild Heart~
Chapter Twenty-Two
~~~ooooo~~~
In the days following her encounter with Cloud's cousin, Aeris had time to reflect upon their conversation and ponder the fairy's words with great care. She mulled over the information the young girl had inadvertently let slip about the world of fairies and the life and love of an ancient queen.
There was a faint memory in her head of a tale she had once heard in passing as a child, from a stranger traveling south with a caravan, a tale of a young fairy with silver-white hair who had begun appearing in mankind's stories before the first human civilization had even developed a system of writing and the only means of telling a story was through the oral tradition. And buried deeper in her memories, like the remnants of a faded dream, there was another figure—a tall, proud male whose powerful presence had towered over the dancing flames of man's first fires and stoked the imagination of the company huddled about them, leaving them so awestruck that whispers of him had grown and multiplied and leaped over those primitive fires and passed on even into the present day although mention of him had waned over time and he seldom featured in more recent stories. Aeris had not realized it then but she had in all likelihood been hearing about the dawn of the fairy who would one day become the fairy queen and perhaps the king who had ruled before her, long before nomadic tribes roamed the planet, when humans still dwelled within caves and wore the furs of animal skins.
There was still so much about the world of faerie that she did not know and therefore, couldn't even begin to understand. More questions plagued her, and despite her unwavering love for the fairy she'd first met on the outskirts of the forest, she could not push them aside and worries continued to mount and weigh on her mind.
~~~ooooo~~~
"Beatrix."
The dark-haired girl at the door dragged her eyes away from Zack and Tory, who were chatting by the gate. Her friend had spotted him coming up the hill and promptly forgetting her reason for visiting the farm, ran off to intercept him, leaving Beatrix to carry her basket of goods.
"Yes?" she smiled, setting both their baskets down on the bench.
"You..." Tifa began uncertainly. "You and Aeris were close friends as children, weren't you?"
Her smile seemed to falter. "I like to think we still are."
Tifa pursed her lips. "That's good."
"Is it?" Beatrix chuckled. "You don't sound very sure."
Her own chuckle was rueful. "I am." She crossed the room to stand beside her neighbor, gazed out the open door at Tory and Zack. "I'm just a little surprised, that's all. I didn't think you got to spend much time together anymore, seeing as how you're busy on your farm and she takes out the sheep every day."
"I saw her just a few days ago."
Doubt assailed her for a moment, but Tifa knew she couldn't stand idly by and let Zack make an even bigger muck of things with Aeris. For his sake, for both her companions' sake, she had to do something. She drew in a deep breath and plunged on. "By any chance, have you been hearing some strange talk?"
"What do you mean?" The guarded tone in the other girl's voice confirmed her fear.
"I think you know."
Beatrix's mouth tightened.
"Look, Bea," she said awkwardly. "We both care about Aeris and want what's best for her. If you know something, you mustn't just turn a blind eye to it all."
"I've heard talk." Worry shadowed Beatrix's blue eyes. "But no one has brought up Aeris' name at all. I didn't even know they had anything to do with her."
But Tifa could tell there was something she wasn't telling her—something that was clearly bothering her. Her mouth twisted. "I think," she said carefully, "the talk is because of her."
It was as if a sudden draft of cold air had swept inside the house. The pleasant, friendly smile on Beatrix's face disappeared and her eyes turned a cool, pale shade of blue. "I believe Aeris can take of herself."
"If she's your friend, you would do what you can to help her!" Tifa burst out, in desperation and more than a little bit of impatience. "You would protect her, any way you can. Even if she thinks she doesn't need it! I thought you, of all people, would want to help her!"
"Listen." The look on Beatrix's face was earnest. "Aeris and I practically shared a crib from the time we were born," she explained. "But then Ma took ill and things began to change. When her parents died, we should've taken her in, but with Ma wasting away from consumption and Pa... My aunt had to come live with us because he couldn't even take care of himself, let alone look after my sister and me and the farm." She shook her head. "But I know Aeris better than anybody else. Whatever nonsense folks have been spouting lately, I don't believe it. Someone is always looking to cause a stir."
"You don't believe it or you don't want to believe it?"
"I don't believe it." The farm girl's reply came quickly and without hesitation.
"Then tell me why you're so sure," Tifa said. "Tell me because I want to believe as you do, but I can't. I just can't. Because there are things that you don't know but I do."
"And I know you're wrong about her."
"You don't know the whole of it," she persevered. "You have no idea what's been going on. She hasn't told you, has she? If she had, you wouldn't just stand there and act like it's nothing."
Beatrix's eyes narrowed. "I think I have more than just an idea now. It's not that hard to put two and two together."
"Then mark my words, if we don't do something now, it will be too late! If you can figure it out, so can someone else!"
"And you mark my words: Aeris will not appreciate us interfering." Beatrix stood her ground. "She has a good head on her shoulders and knows what she's doing."
"But you've heard the stories. You know what they're capable of. She may not have any choice." Tifa didn't have to elaborate further.
"And I don't believe them. Not more than I believe her."
"Are you willing to take that chance? That the stories are wrong, that I might be wrong and do nothing to save her while we still can?"
"From herself?" She smiled faintly. "There is no need."
"I hope you're right," Tifa whispered. "I want you to be right. But I just can't shake off this terrible feeling..."
"All you have to do is trust her." Beatrix's voice softened. "Tifa, in all the years that you've known Aeris and have lived with her, has she ever given you any reason to think she would behave so recklessly as recent gossip would seem to suggest?"
"No," she admitted. "But we're talking about something that we've never dealt with before here. She's... She's changed."
"It makes no difference. Deep inside, where it counts, she's the same person she's always been. I saw her and I talked to her. She's still the same girl I grew up with. I would've noticed if she wasn't. If she trusts in one of their kind, then so will I. No harm will come to her."
Tifa gave a sigh of defeat.
She had failed to win over her housemate's friend and gain her aid, but if nothing else, the other farm girl's words gave her a sense of reassurance she hadn't felt in weeks.
~~~ooooo~~~
"That's a lovely flower."
The shepherd girl lifted startled eyes from the exquisite white bloom in her hand and ran smack into another pair of eyes the color of lilacs peering down at her from a face lined with age. She glanced towards Lucy and Daisy, but found the dogs sitting quietly on guard, gazing out over the sheep as if all was normal and no stranger had just come upon them.
"It's your flower. But I think you already know that."
The stranger motioned to the ground with her walking stick and Aeris quickly obeyed her, taking the stick from her and scooting over to make room under the shade of the small tree.
Slowly and with extreme care, the traveler seated herself down beside her and waved away the bag of provisions Aeris was reaching for. "For all that it looks as fragile as the wings on a butterfly," she continued, "you would be hard put to find a flower more resilient than this one. But even the strongest can break when all the elements are working against it."
"And you know all about flowers," Aeris said simply, letting the bag drop back down onto the ground. "Don't you?"
"I know plenty about this one. It is unique not just among the local flora, but all the plants of the world. It is the only one of its kind."
A frown creased her brow as she studied the visitor's face. "I know you, don't I? We've met before." It took a moment before it came to her. "That day, at the well..."
A smile broke out across the woman's face, deepening the grooves etched by the hands of time. "And as I told you then, you would soon remember my face."
"Yes," Aeris said warily, and forced a smile. "You did."
"Child, why the long face? 'Tis a beautiful morn and the sun is bright. The sheep are content in their rich pastures, your belly is full and you have the rest of the afternoon to bask in the beauty of the hills. In all my travels, no place has ever come close to the splendor of these hills and woods."
She compressed her lips and shook her head.
"Your heart is heavy," the old woman said astutely. "I sense doubt...and a great deal of conflict within you. But I also sense something else—the presence of a man in your thoughts. Perhaps the one who gave you the flower."
Aeris stared wordlessly at her as her thoughts whirled.
The woman merely lifted a brow. "Among my people, I am known for my ability to read others."
"I see," she murmured. She took a deep breath and before she lost her courage, ventured to ask, "Would you grieve for him?"
She thought she saw surprise flicker across the worn face. "I beg your pardon?"
"You are clearly a fairy," she said wryly. "When you speak of your people, you are not referring to humans. Cloud's mother—she mentioned a doom and a grief of some kind and she seemed so...frightened at the thought of it."
Her visitor hesitated briefly before she answered, her voice somber. "You speak of the grief of the fairies. You speak of Cloud and his mother."
She'd known somehow that this stranger, who was not really a stranger, would understand what she did not and perhaps, be willing to explain it to her.
She drew in a shuddered breath and expelled it painfully. "This…grief," she forced herself to continue. "Can you tell me about it?"
The fairy's body went rigid and what looked like pain, desperation, panic, and more flitted across her face before she schooled her features back into the blank mask of the elderly traveler's disguise she was wearing. "It is what we call it when a fairy has become lost to us."
Aeris frowned. "You mean, when a fairy fades."
"It means exactly what it sounds like," she said with a shake of her head. "More than that, I cannot say. It is not something to speak of discreetly with just anyone."
Her answer was discouraging, but not completely unexpected. "Is it very...terrible?" Aeris pressed.
Only the violet eyes watching her revealed the gravity of what she asked. "What has he told you?"
"About fairies?" she said with a sad smile. "More than all the knowledge found in all the books humans have written and more than man can dream about. And yet, he has told me nothing."
"It is difficult to explain to one who is not familiar with faerie."
"Try anyway," Aeris pleaded. "Please. I must know."
"Perhaps it is time you know that much," she relented. "This grief... It surpasses that of a loved one who has faded." Her eyes turned a dark, stormy purple. "When someone passes on, there is some comfort in knowing that they have gone on to merge with the planet. If they had been suffering in life, it has ended. But in this, it is almost eternal. Humans believe they know pain and suffering. But the life of a fairy is long and our ties with nature is sacred and can never be undone. It is because of these ties that the world will not forget one who was bound to them. And we, in turn, have no peace."
"The planet shares its pain with fairies..."
She inclined her head slightly. "Not just fairies. Humans appear immune to it, but the planet both mourns and celebrates the passing of every life on it... and it also shares what the living are going through. All who are connected with the planet feels as it does." Her eyes darkened further and for once they looked her age and did not seem so young and out of place on her weathered face. "And yes, I would grieve for him. More so than you can imagine."
Aeris nodded. "He is the son of the fairy queen."
"He is that," the woman acknowledged. "And more."
"She said we are more different than I can possibly think. "
"She is not entirely wrong."
"Are you saying he and I—? Is it hopeless?" Tears clogged her throat and she could not finish.
"I am saying that it is up to you." Another slight pause followed the fairy's cryptic remark, before she asked abruptly, "What does water do?"
Aeris didn't know whether to laugh or cry at the fairy's attempt to put her off of what she wanted to know. "I... I'm sorry. I don't think I'm following you."
"What is the purpose of water? What does it mean for you? For humans?"
"I guess..." she said haltingly. "We need it to survive. It gives us life."
"Exactly," the old woman said triumphantly. "Water is life to all other living things on the planet. For fairies, light is the source of life. This flower, the water lily—it has always been your flower, moreso than anyone else I've known in all the centuries that I have seen on this planet. And I have known many. Just as the water lily is your flower, Cloud's flower is the moon-gazer."
Aeris' eyes widened at the mention of the flower.
"You've seen them," her visitor said knowingly. "They can mean the difference between living and fading for fairies, but for Cloud, it is an especially vital relationship. It was one of the two plant life that chose him at the moment of his birth, and the one flower he is the most deeply connected to. It is his flower."
"I didn't think anyone could really own a flower," she mused. "At least not all of them."
"Not own," the fairy chuckled. "But it is yours in a way that no other possession you own will ever belong to you. It chose you."
"Do all fairies and humans have a flower?"
"All fairies have a flower or tree or some other plant that they bond with at some point as children. It is very rare for one to be born with a plant that claims them at their birth, such as it was with Cloud, and becomes their protector and sustains and nurtures them throughout life. Humans have never shown this ability to bond with another form of life. Until now."
"And the moon-gazer is Cloud's flower." Aeris' heart pounded at the woman's words and all that they implied. "Like the water lily, the moon-gazer gives..."
"Yes." A pleased smile appeared on the fairy's lined, haggard face. "The moon-gazer came directly from the moon itself and is the light of the moon. Both of your flowers symbolize what lies at the heart of each of our species' existence and is fundamental to our survival." Her eyes fell on the flower clutched fiercely in Aeris' hand. "Water has no shape of its own. It is fluid, ever-changing, not bound to any one form but taking the shape of whatever holds it. It is life to humans. And you, Aeris Gainsborough, you who embrace the planet as fairies do are the embodiment of the best of human life."
Aeris stared at her, perplexed once again. "I don't understand."
"The water lily is your flower. It chose you, a human. Just as the moon-gazer chose Cloud," she explained. "I cannot believe it was mere coincidence that a human and a fairy whose flowers represent life to their respective races would be destined to be drawn to one another. I believe that you have the ability to choose your own path and not let history or others decide for you. Not a human or a fairy. Your life shall be shaped, or written, according to you. If you wish it."
Tears stung Aeris' eyes. "Thank you," she whispered.
The fairy's face softened and for a moment, the wrinkles seemed to blur and turn into smooth skin and Aeris thought she was looking at a young woman. She quickly blinked back the tears and found the old woman smiling gently at her.
"You are very welcome." She grabbed her walking stick and quickly got to her feet with an ease and agility that belied her frail appearance. "Farewell, lass. I shall see you again soon."
And so saying, she vanished.