The prophecy of Skye
A Fairytale
By Kayla Rogers
To Anthony, I will find you in every timeline,
in every universe.
you know again that behind that wall,
under the uncut hair of the willows
something secret is going on,
so marvelous and dangerous
that if you crawled through and saw,
you would die, or be happy forever
Sometimes, When the Light
BY LISEL MUELLER
Chapter one
Somewhere in the distance, I know I will find the answers to the truth I had longed to know my entire life.
Across the horizon, through rolling hills and emerald fields sits a house at the bottom of a cliff. A house that now belongs to me. A house that holds secrets so sacred and devastating that I fear what lay in store for me when I cross through its doors.
I feel for the worn letter in my chest pocket and pull the letter out, opening it gently to avoid tearing the threadbare paper. I stare at the elegant handwriting that I had cherished for so many years, my father's handwriting.
To you, my heart, I leave my legacy.
I did not cry when I heard of my father's passing, refusing to shed a tear as my grandmother scattered his ashes in the forest where my mother and father would wander together. I avoided opening the letter that arrived on my doorstep months after he died. I wanted to burn it, hold its ashes in my hand and let the memory of my father fade as the wind took the ashes with it into oblivion.
Gustave Baird, a once devoted and loving father, disappeared when I was seven years old. My mother had just passed away in a tragic accident, and my father…I was not sure if the pain from losing my mother had made loving me impossible, or if he had just given up. Regardless, he dropped me off on my grandmother's porch before the sun had risen and disappeared without a trace. Five years passed before his letters began to arrive, sent from a small island on the west coast of Scotland.
The Isle of Skye.
I was young and grieving, so desperate to have my parents back that I forgave him without a second thought. We wrote to each other every week, and then pictures of unbelievable landscapes began to arrive. Pictures of expansive mountain ranges and emerald fields. Pools of water so vibrantly blue that I believed parts of the sky lay dormant in them. The pictures looked as if they were not from this world, but from a realm where magic was real and thriving.
My young heart believed that one day my father would come back for me, take me to the extraordinary Isle of Skye. Then suddenly, with no reasonable cause, my father stopped replying. I sent letter after letter with no response. For ten years my resentment built, encasing my heart in a wall of iron. The wall grew with each passing year, my anger and sadness growing with it. Until one day, the wall was so tall that no one could climb it, even if I wanted them to.
And then...my father died.
A letter arrived on my doorstep months after my fathers passing, with my name written in handwriting that I would remember until the end of time. I wanted to destroy it, burn it into ashes, and be rid of his memory forever. Yet, I could not bring myself to do it. With shaking hands and the hopes of finally receiving an apology, I opened his letter. His handwriting was, as I remembered it to be, elegant and enchanting. There was no apology, only an address to a small tavern on the Isle of Skye and the promise of receiving his legacy.
A year later, here I was. In the back of a small bus driving through the windy roads of an island in Scotland. The child inside of me, the one who was desperate to know who her father was, could not resist this last opportunity.
"Miss?" a calm voice asked, startling me.
"My apologizes." The bus drivers accent is unique, I have never heard anything like it before. "I did not mean to frighten you bonnie."
"Thank you," I say, embarrassed. "My name is Katherine, by the way, not Bonnie."
The man laughs, his cheerfulness makes him look ten years younger. He wears a grey wool tartan cap and a blazer that matches. His thick beard is neatly trimmed and speckled with gray.
"American, eh?" He gives me a wink. "Bonnie means lovely, which you are. My apologies, your coloring," he points to my hair. "That red hair made me think yer were from Scotland. Or Irish or sumthin."
"You don't have to apologize. My father, Gustave Baird, is from here. I get my coloring from him."
The man's eyes widened for just a moment, taken aback by my confession.
"That makes you the last Baird on the Isle of Skye, then?" He questions, glancing behind me to see if anyone else is on the bus.
"I guess so," I pause. "Did you know him? Gustave, I mean."
"Pure barry!" The man laughs again, the look of suspicion fading from his face. "Of course I knew Gustave, he was a very good man. Kept us all safe."
"Safe?" I ask, unable to stop myself. "Safe from what?"
"A Baird that doesn't know about faeries and selkies. A shame that is!" The man winks, as if he and I share some sort of inside joke.
He is familiar in a way I cannot explain. I have never stepped foot in Skye, yet I feel as if I know him.
"I'd rather come upon a selkie than my long lost brothers and sisters." I send out the bait, hoping he will take a bite.
"Like I said bonnie, you are the last Baird. Never seen yer father with a woman and thank gods fer that. Yer father was a handsome fella, none of us homely folk would've stood a chance."
I laugh, for the first time in what seems like forever.
"I haven't seen him in a very long time, I've forgotten what he looks like to tell you the truth." That's a lie, I could never forget my father's face. I thought I may have felt some relief that he had not abandoned me for another family, however the thought of being the last Baird made me feel more alone.
"Aoife, the maiden that runs the inn I'll be dropping you off at, knew yer dad well. I'm sure she'll have some pictures to show ya."
"I'm okay with not seeing pictures of him, to be honest. I just want to go through the cottage that I inherited, and sell what I can, then sell the cottage itself. Let me know if you're interested." I tease, trying to cover the pain that overwhelms me whenever my father's betrayal surfaces.
The bus comes to a sudden stop, and the man turns around to look at me, his eyes wide.
"You don't go selling that cottage now! It must stay in the Baird family, it must!" There is real fear in his eyes. "You must follow the rules in Skye, okay? Selling that cottage will bring you nothing but..." he stops, composing himself. "Go see it first, give it a chance. Gustave talked about you all the time, he told me and the wife how much you would love thatcottage."
"Okay!" I yell, shocked by his concern.
He takes a deep breath and nods before looking away. We sit in silence for the rest of the bus ride. An agonizing hour passes before a quaint village nestled on the edge of a low-lying cliff appears in the distance.
"We've made it to Portree Harbor," the bus driver says, breaking the silence. "That address you gave me, it's one of the oldest buildings around these parts, it's magnificent."
The bus comes to a stop and the man hurries off. I follow his lead, taking in the salt tinged air that surrounds me.
"Strange, the inn looks to be closed." He grabs my bags and tells me to sit tight before making his way to the back of the building.
The quaint, two-story inn sits nestled at the edge of the village, the smell of moss and marine life filters through the air. The building is constructed of gray stone that is almost entirely engulfed in bright green ivy. Between the thick stems, I can make out a large bay window made of stained-glass. A small plaque nailed to the oak front door has an address engraved into it. The address my father left in his last letter to me.
Past the inn, the village consists of colorful buildings and cobblestone roads. In the distance, fields of emerald grass stand out against vast mountain ranges. The sound of crashing waves roar as gray clouds roll in, promising a storm.
"Looks like Aoife is out on an errand run, bet she'll be back soon. I left your things by the back doors." He offers me his hand. "There's a good coffee shop at the edge of the cliff, go get yer self some coffee. Or something stronger if you need it."
"I'll give the cottage a chance." I shake his hand, offering him the best smile I can manage.
"He loved you and yer ma, trust me when I say that. Oh and one more thing, keep yer wits about you in this place," he says as he gives my hand a gentle squeeze. "The myths and legends of Skye are magnificent. But don't go getting lost trying to find the fairies like the rest of the folk that travel here do."
With one last wink, the man says farewell as he gets into the bus and drives away. I notice a small bench in front of the inn and fall into it, completely exhausted and overwhelmed from days of travel. The distant sound of crashing waves calms me, my eyelids become heavy. I begin to drift, until I am jolted awake by thick heavy raindrops.
I rush to the inn and attempt to yank open the large oak door, but it's locked. The rain becomes heavier, soaking my clothes and hair. I gaze at the dark sky, hoping to find a break in the clouds. Suddenly, lightning streaks across the sky, accompanied by a horrific thunderclap. Startled, I close my eyes, when I open them I see a figure in the distance.
My heart begins to race as I take in the large, black shape looming a short distance away. A feeling of absolute foreboding washes over me. Something is wrong, I feel goosebumps form on the back of my neck... I want to run, to scream for help, but it feels as if ice has encased my entire body. Lightning flashes again, the figure is gone.
The feeling of dread has dug its claws into my skin, whispering that something is out there, watching me. I need to escape the rain, escape the shadow that a part of my subconscious knows still looms nearby. My legs begin to move, shattering the ice that had frozen me in place. I could not explain why I trusted the bus driver, but I know that I can. I know that if I can just make it to the coffee shop that he told me about, I would be safe.
With him in mind, I venture into the misty village, in hopes of finding a small cafe at the edge of the cliff.
It appears that no-one else is brave or foolish enough to travel in this storm.
I stumble through the village, clutching my thin jacket around me as the storm rages on. The icy wind bites at my exposed skin, causing me to shiver. Even in the mist, the charm of the enchanting buildings and stone walkways is undeniable. It's as if the village has stood against the test of time. There are no street signs or stop lights, only tall luminaires that light my path through the gloomy fog.
As I walk, I become more and more aware of the emptiness of the small village. There are no signs of life in the colorful shops. The only sound come from the downpour of rain and the raging waves of the ocean. I am completely alone and yet I cannot shake the feeling that something is in the mist with me.
I continue forward, wanting to escape the freezing rain. I turn a corner and sigh with relief, I had found what I hoped to be my sanctuary. I take in the small wooden sign with a figure of a tea kettle and the words tea and coffee below it. As I walk closer, I noticed a small arrow pointing to a sage-colored building nearing the edge of the cliff. I eagerly make my way to the front door and step inside.
The inside of the coffee shop is as green as the outside. Blooming ivy, the same ivy that covered the inn, covers the walls of the shop. Upon every wooden table sits a plant, ranging from golden pothos to fresh-cut roses in small glass vases. The wood-paneled walls are filled with hanging shelves stacked with books and smaller plants. Lanterns of every size lay scattered throughout, each blazing with candlelight. A part of my soul feels at ease in this wondrous place.
For as beautiful as it was, it was completely empty-
"Red hair, whiskey-colored eyes. You must be a Baird." A sweet voice says.
Again, for the second time today, I am startled by the sound of an unexpected voice.
"You scared me!" I blurt out, unable to control myself.
The old woman behind the counter laughs and winks, the wink is so like the bus drivers that it's unsettling.
"I'm sorry," I say as I walk towards the counter. "I am a Baird, my name is Katherine. It's been a long day, and I'm hoping you have coffee, or tea. Or anything warm at this point."
"I have it all, girl. What would you prefer?" She says playfully, her voice sounding much younger than she appears.
"Coffee with cream and sugar." I give her the best smile I can manage, exhaustion beginning to take hold of me.
"You've got the same smile as your father." She says as she pours steaming coffee into a mug.
This woman knew my father, just as the bus driver had. Did everyone on this godforsaken island know him? Everyone besides his own daughter? I take a deep breath, calming myself. The woman behind the counter seems kind. Undeserving of the anger that threatens to pour out of me when I think of my fathers betrayal for too long.
"This place is beautiful." I say as she hands me the steaming mug of coffee. I sit the mug down and begin to rummage through my bag to find cash. "What's your name?"
"Una, and Baird's don't pay here. Go sit and enjoy yer coffee."
"Why don't Baird's pay here?" I ask as calmly as I can, taking a sip of the scorching coffee to avoid looking Una in the eyes.
She purses her lips for a long moment before letting out a deep breath.
"Knew yew'd have some questions when you finally got here. Yer father told us all you'd come home one day, 'course we were all hoping you'd arrive a long time ago."
"My father never came back for me." The words flow evenly, despite the pain they cause me. "He left me and came to this…island, and never told me why."
Una looks around, as if to make sure no one else is in the room with us. "I wish that I had some answers for you Katherine Baird, but I do not. So sit there and enjoy yer coffee, and then head back to the inn to find the answers yer looking for. It won't be safe out there when it's dark."
"Una," I feel my temper rising. "I didn't know my father well, he left me after my mom...it doesn't matter. Now I'm stuck with his home in a foreign country where I know no one. I'm not looking for any answers, I would just like to know who he was…"
"Look, yer dad, he had a lot of demons. He had lots of regrets too, especially leaving you."
"I would have a lot of demons too, if I deserted my child." The words escape my mouth before I can stop them.
I watch as surprise, sadness, and then anger cross over Una's expression. Her kind features turn icy, I feel the child inside of me shrink.
"Gustave left everything behind, everything that he loved to come back here...to fulfill his duty, to save his people-" Thunder booms loudly, shaking the small shop. "We haven't had a storm like this in quite some time, drink yer coffee and let me go make sure all the windows are shut tight."
Without another word Una disappears into the back of the shop. I take my coffee and sit at one of the many open tables. I choose the one with a bouquet of blue poppy flowers, the color of them reminding me of my mother's eyes. I sit there for what seems like hours, contemplating what to do next. This place, its people…everything is strange. The empty village, the lack of electricity, the way they speak of Gustave as if he were their savior. It was all so strange and a bit terrifying, yet I couldn't just simply leave...
A glimpse of shimmering light catches my eye, bringing me back to reality. I can see something in the leaves of the ivy that clings to the walls, bright and delicate and shimmering with energy. The air around me becomes heavy, time seems to slow. Within the bright light I can make out iridescent wings, a small body, a face...
I gasp, spilling my coffee.
"I got somethin a bit stronger, you look like you can use it." Una says, appearing in front of me with a bottle and two glasses.
"I thought I saw something..." I stumble.
"Ah, don't let those faeries cause you no trouble." Una sits and pours crimson liquid into both glasses.
"Faeries aren't real." I say more to myself than to her. "Says who?" Una hands me the glass, staring me in the
eyes, as if in challenge.
"I do. Magic isn't real, faeries...it's folklore."
"A Baird that doesn't believe, how sad." Una clinks her glass to mine. "Let's have a drink."
"A toast to the faeries, I assume?" I smirk, trying to redeem myself after my outburst.
"A toast to the last Baird finally returning home."
I down the glass of mead in two swift gulps, taking in the sweet honey nectar as it warms my entire body. I instantly feel at ease, my mind soft and my eyelids heavy. What was I so worried about just a few moments ago? Why do I worry at all? I want to laugh and sing, take Una in my arms and...the edges of my vision begin to go dark. The strong urge to lay my head on the table and sleep overtakes me.
"Welcome home, Katherine Baird." Una's voice is soft, far away. I lay my head on the cold table, closing my eyes as I drift into a deep sleep.
One moment I am floating in a sea of stars, the next I am sitting in a stiff wooden chair, unable to open my eyes. I can hear hushed voices arguing, bringing me closer to consciousness.
"Because you showed yourself Aria, putting us all at risk, putting her at risk!" The urgency in Una's voice is palpable.
"I did not...I did not even try to Una, I was hidden and she still-"
That earth-shattering thunder struck once again, and I opened my eyes. Una sat in front of me, eyes wide with terror. Before I had even one moment to react she was at my side, pulling me out of my chair and rushing me to the door with impressive strength.
"What are you doing!" I exclaim.
"There is a break in the storm, it is time for you to leave." She opens the door and shoves me out of it in one swift movement. "Get to the tavern and find Aoife!"
Before I have the chance to yell at the sheer ridiculousness of what had just occurred, Una slams the door in my face. I stagger back, not because of what Una had done, but because thick ropes of ivy began to slither across the door. I watched in horror as the entirety of the massive oak door is encased, shutting me out completely.
"What..." I hear myself say, unable to comprehend what my eyes are seeing.
Thunder roars again, so loud that the ground beneath me begins to shake. I'm moving then, sprinting in the direction of the tavern. The fog is so thick that I can hardly see in front of me. I can't stop, there is something sinister in the mist. Watching me...waiting for me.
I round a familiar corner and come to a sudden stop. In the distance, through the thick fog, I can see the figure of a person standing in the middle of the road. Shadows as black as onyx swirl around them.
"Wrong way, fox." The smoky voice comes from all directions.
"Stay away from me!" I scream, my fear turning into anger.
This is not happening...this is not real. I am dreaming and I am in control, the thing standing in my way cannot hurt me. I stand up taller, preparing myself to run right through the figure blocking my way.
"So brave...yet so foolish." The voice seethes.
Before I have the chance to react, a shadow in the shape of an arrow shoots towards me.
The force of the impact knocks me onto my back. I scream as darkness wraps around my body, searing into my skin like molten flame. Dark circles begin to obscure my vision. I feel as if I am dying, being burned from the inside out and unable to escape. I can hear myself screaming, begging for the pain to stop.
One moment I am being burned alive, the next cool rain is drenching my skin. Panting, I look up and see the horrid figure striding towards me. Shadows dance around them, promising more agonizing pain. I frantically get to my feet and sprint in the opposite direction.
Dream or not, the pain felt real. I sprint harder, looking for anyone or anything to help me. To make me feel safe, to wake me up from this nightmare.
Aoife.
I had to find Aoife.
"Katherine." A voice, my father's voice, brings me to a sudden halt.
Through the mist, a new silhouette appears, this form…this person radiates against the darkness of the storm. Power ripples form them; power so strong that my legs being to tremble. Tranquility surrounds me, my rigid muscles become weak.
I sink to the ground, yielding to the formidable being before me. I lay my head on the cold earth, closing my eyes, the rain beginning to warm.
"You're safe now." The voice whispers.
This is all a dream. I tell myself, giving into that voice.
I am safe.
I am safe.
Slowly, the world around me fades into nothing.