The Faerie Boy of Waterfell
They said the water at the base of the spring had healing properties. It was a common tale to tell the children of the village when they couldn't sleep at night and wished for fire-light comfort. In between the floating embers and the thick smog of oakwood smoke drifting up to the heavens, people would tell of the faerie boy of Waterfell.
This is how the story would go.
After the Battle of the Two Rivers, and well before either you or I were born, faefolk and druid-alike lived amongst humans disguised as our peers. One day, a young faerie boy of the name Da'neh wandered into a human camp where they were preparing their catch of deer for supper. Enraged by the butchery of a creature sacred to the faerie, Da'neh revealed himself with a curse of fire which set the camp ablaze. The humans ran to save their people and rushed to the nearby river to collect water to extinguish the flames devouring their tents, but to no avail. One by one, they perished. Garet, the human leader, despairing at watching his clan burn, roared in anger and chased after Da'neh as he fled into the forest.
They ran for hours into the night, and into the light of the next morning. As the first sunrays touched the tops of the trees above, Da'neh tripped on a root and fell, allowing Garet to catch him, where, in the face of a new day, Garet raised his blade and struck Da'neh down. His blood ran into the ground and pooled in the roots of two fir trees. There, a spring welled and flowed through the forest, and where it flowed, wildflowers sprouted in glorious colour, and deer and rabbits and all sorts of animals gathered to drink the water.
When Garet returned to the human camp, it was to find it untouched, and his people sleeping, as if no flames had ever come to bear. Da'neh's final act was one of healing, and from that day forth, the spring was revered as a sacred place, and the tale of how it came to be, passed down generation by generation so that we may never forget Da'neh's gift.
Marlene thought the story had been a little bit twisted over the years because first of all, there was surely no way a faerie would ever do something so kindly for a human – especially one which had desecrated a sacred animal. And secondly, in all Marlene had ever read about Garet, he had been a fearsome warlord who had led a campaign to wipe out the faerie, so the idea that one would return his people to him – especially at the cost of Da'neh's own life – was an absurd one. Still, it was undeniable that the spring did indeed hold healing properties. Even hundreds of years later, animals still flocked to the spring every breeding season to have their young in the protective energy of the glade surrounding it. Marlene's own clan, the McKinnons, lived a mile downstream from the spring, and it was customary for the children of the village to play along its lengths and drink from the water. The village's supply of water itself didn't come from the spring directly, but from a well set into the ground in a nearby glade. The spring water was used sparingly to treat ailments and maintain the health of the McKinnon elders.
Marlene herself had always been fascinated with the spring. Her fascination had started when she was nine and had witnessed the waters glow on her first trip down to the spring. She had snuck away from the young boy who had been looking after the village children that day, and made her own way along the bank, picking up rocks and other oddments she found. She'd ventured so far along the bank that she'd made it to where the water bubbled up from the ground, and for the first time in her life had gazed upon the very spot where Da'neh had given his final gift. With naïve eyes, she saw a shimmer move under the water and ripple waves over the surface. The water glowed green – a brilliant emerald that had lit the surrounding trees. As she had passed out, she'd seen a pair of eyes watching hers from within the trees on the opposite bank, and then she'd woken up in her bed to her mother standing over her waiting with a scolding for sneaking off.
After that day, her fascination with the spring had only grown, and she'd taken any and every opportunity she could to gaze upon its water again. Which was how she found herself sitting here at the water's edge now.
It had been a bright day, but now the sun smouldered low in the sky. Marlene sat sequestered under her favourite tree, nestled in the roots with a bark-paper notebook she was sketching in. There was a doe quietly grazing on the other bank of the spring, ignoring her presence. She was one of the first animals to arrive at the spring, and her young fawn lay a couple meters behind her, fur still sticky. They would soon retreat from the water's edge and settle in for the night.
The spring bubbled and gurgled as it flowed out of the ground in an endless stream, and a sparrow chirped somewhere in a nearby tree. Marlene sighed and closed her notebook softly. She tucked her pencil behind her ear.
With a yawn, she arched her back against the tree and her joints clicked and groaned at moving for the first time in several hours. This was her preferred way of spending her days off from village responsibilities, but it would soon be time to head back home for the evening meal. She came down to the spring so often that even the evasive badgers had gotten used to her and no longer scurried away whenever she arrived.
She rested her head back against the rough bark and let her eyes wander over the glade. Movement over the water caught her gaze and she grew still. Curiously, she sat up. "Hello?" she called softly, expecting a rabbit or even a badger. "Is someone there? It's okay, I'm a friend."
Instead, a girl emerged from the undergrowth, looking at Marlene with interest. Her skin had a blueish tinge to it, and around her eyes, druid-alike markings were painted. She wore furs of mink and vine-rope, and adornments of polished stone. She took a step into the water without looking away, her toes just barely disturbing the surface. Marlene hardly dared to breathe as the druid girl waded closer, crossing the distance between them swiftly but cautiously. She held her breath as she landed on the bank. Water glistened on the druid girl's calves. Marlene gulped. Her book slipped out of her hands.
The druid walked up the bank. Her eyes flashed blue. "You come here often."
"I-I do." The notebook lay forgotten on her lap. "Do you...watch me?"
The girl laughed, a light, tinkling thing. "Only sometimes. I find humans fascinating."
Marlene shuffled awkwardly. "My mother told me to be careful around druids." The girl was close enough to reach out and touch now. "She said they're dangerous."
The girl ducked down and knelt in the soft loam. She studied Marlene seriously. "Do I look dangerous?" she asked quietly.
Marlene shook her head. She whispered, "You look beautiful."
The druid smiled and reached out a hand. "You should listen to your mother."
Marlene's eyes widened and she gasped but it was too late. The girl touched a finger to her forehead and everything went dark.
All that was found of Marlene, when her worried clan members went down to the spring to search for her, was a bark-paper notebook covered in loam, and on the last page – a scurried drawing of a girl with druid-alike markings and a tinkling laugh.
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Round 6 for QLFC season 10
Team: Montrose Magpies
Position: Captain
Prompt: The Dornishman's wife
Word count: 1324
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A/N:Druid-alike is the word (that I'm using at least) for the whole of druid kind (like man-kind, of human-kind) it's not a misspelling of druid-kind :)
Hope you enjoyed!