Rheagn's Fairy Circle

Nothing was as it seemed. The forest was a place outside of Time’s realm, hidden from it’s ever scanning gaze. How the woods did so was unknown to the perceiver, but the wood stayed in a perpetual state of night, forever blanketed in soft starlight. Every tree was unique, branches and colors twining with each other as if every root, every limb was interconnected. Barks of purples and pinks, leaves falling in an array of colors from mandarin to deep ocean blue. All the foliage seemed to sparkle with color, even in the pale night light.

A skeleton of herself, a faerie wandered this enchanted forest.

Her white, ankle-length hair glowed in the forest’s starlight, the once white matted ends now stained rose with blood. The faerie’s gossamer wings drooped into the grass, broken with despair. The wings’ usual rainbow glisten was tinged with green, having dragged through the thistle during the entirety of her travels. The faerie was like the forest’s own crescent moon, her posture drooping, pale skin gleaming bright.

Grief gripped the faerie’s heart, the dull ache in her chest becoming her only driving force through the winding and mystifying forest. She’d stopped crying what seemed like ages ago, starting her journey through the wood with dry eyes. Stepping foot inside the forest wouldn’t have been a thought; until the faerie received a message from Veter, the Goddess of wind and whispers.

However, her message didn’t come through a hiss in the wind, but rather with a whispering touch. The Hand of Veter. The Goddess’s touch gave her a vision, like a waking dream, taking her on a journey. She was shown the way to this very wood, a forest long forgotten. Whether it’d been simply lost to Time or hidden purposefully, the faerie neither wondered nor cared. But broken, blood drenched, and no where else to turn – the Faerie Queen making very certain she was no longer welcome on any Faerie land – the faerie took Veter’s guidance and embarked to the forrest. Veter’s magic was the only thing she found sacred now. Veter was the only Goddess to this day who’d mentored the faerie personally, on how to wield her magic of wind. In return, Veter’s was the only magic she allowed herself to conjure nowadays, keeping their specific relationship sacred.

When she’d arrived at the forest’s edge, there was an immediate revelation.

The faerie had grown up with tales of a similar forest. Most faerie folk talked of a ‘Forgotten Wood’ with mazes of haze and creatures who lurked in the night. But a very small population of desperates had cultivated another tale. This group told tales of soul-purifying abilities and the freedom which came without the passing of Time. Very few in this group had the nerve to seek the forest out, having to make their own way based off ancient texts and other word-of-mouth speculation. The faerie had never heard of anyone returning, creating no certainty for either of the party’s stories. But one thing was made very certain to the faerie, this was a place from which souls never returned.

Luckily, she wasn’t planning on a return. 

She’d lost everything. This was her last stop, no matter what she found here. She deserved whatever tortures she was to face, whatever retribution her Goddess wanted for her. Veter was known for pushing souls to their Fate, regardless of one’s wishes for themselves. The Goddess showed no mercy when showing one their true path.

 The faerie’s feet ached, her legs tired from her endless walk, but she didn’t wonder about the Time that may have passed, nor the path she was taking. The plants and thistle beneath the faerie’s feet was surprisingly soft. Every so often, a twig would poke the bottom of her foot or a branch seemed to reach out and nudge her into a direction. Like the forest was taking the faerie where she needed to go.

Her body was weary, her mind was in a haze. 

Was there even anything in this forest? Were any stories of this enchanted wood true? A forest filled with horrors of beauty, pleasures in the blighted, cleansing one’s soul of damnation. Or was the Goddess simply toying with her, extending her anguish? Maybe this endless walk was her punishment. To forever walk, plagued by memories of her wickedness. Of the one’s she’d let down. The face’s of the ones she’d killed.

Perhaps this was what she deserved. To let the grief, the guilt, the evil consume her. Leaving herself behind, becoming someone, something she didn’t recognize.

The ground beneath her feet began to thunder, rolling through the wood in a rhythmic beat. The faerie went towards the sound, the beat a sort of tantric melody, the notes booming through her body, filling her with awe. Everything inside of her tensed, fighting the euphoria attempting to consume her. 

Wasn’t this what she’d been waiting for? What she’d walked all this way for? 

Silencing her mind, the faerie gave into the tantric beat. She allowed her legs to take her, faster and faster towards the thunderous sound. She was practically charging through the trees when she caught sight of a clearing – the first she’d come across since entering the forest. Lights flared within the clearing, reflecting in the multi-colored leaves like jewels and diamonds, refracting their light every direction creating a laser effect. She could see heads bobbing, projecting their dark shadows in contrast.

As the faerie made her way closer, she felt the euphoria seeming to flow through the clearing freely, with auras meshing and pulsing within each other. The auras shined pinks and golds, violets and deep reds glowing with sensual flame. Before the faerie knew it, she was surrounded by those flaring auras, bodies dancing against bodies. The euphoria sprouted in the faeries chest. She only pushed the feeling down, pressing through the crowd. 

She wasn’t sure what she was looking for while a frantic energy began beating throughout her entire body, off-beat from the already thunderous rhythm. The faerie was practically clawing through the crowd when she finally spotted a large opening. Tearing through the last of the crowd, the faerie collapsed onto her knees, gasping for air. But Veter gave her no such mercy, instead, a massive bonfire burned hot before the faerie. Every gasp seemed to burn, like the fire was consuming all the air for it’s greedy self. 

After the constant shadow of night, the faerie had to raise her arm to shade her eyes from the bright light of the flame. Closer to the fire, the faerie realized the music thumping through the wood was coming from the dancing flame before her. As if these people were dancing to the very heartbeat of this fire, in tune with it’s destructive, all-consuming magic. 

A sudden rush of fury sent the faerie into a hysteria. All she knew was she began to scream, every sound narrowed in on her and she was conjuring Veter’s magic. With a fierce cry, the faerie used every ounce of Veter’s magic she could conjure to send a netting of air around the flame, in attempt of smothering the blaze into submission. The heat fought against her netting, struggling between feeding off her air or letting itself soften to embers. The faerie was shaking now, using every last drop of energy she could dredge up to fight the flame.

With a loud snap, the fire broke through her netting, sending the faerie flying from the sudden return of magic. The flame began to rage, seeming to reach much higher than it had before, the heat almost unbearable now. The faerie only laid there, all of the rage, the sorrow, the grief consuming her. And she finally let it as the fire raged before her.

Then came an outstretched hand. Black claws at each tip, black ink coming over the fingetips. The faerie’s gaze followed up the deep umber arm, the skin inked in golden sigils and scenes of dance, of celebration. Inked flames spread over each collarbone, the tip of each flame ending at the base of the neck; featuring a stunning female face. 

There was an ethereal type of beauty about her. The dark complexion made her silver eyes glow in the night, though half of each iris appeared orange in the fire’s light. Her face was structured, with sharp features framing full lips. Raven black braids fell to her knees, curling around her legs like the tendrils of snakes. When the being smiled at the faerie, recognition ran through her body, suddenly freezing despite the blazing bonfire. 

Jaggedly sharp, black teeth, black fingertips extending to black claws…

This was a witch, in all her alluring beauty and rotted insides. Witches were known to feed off the grief and pain of others, delighting in the spoils of other’s wounds. No wonder the witch had gravitated towards her. She had enough sorrow to feed the entire clearing.

The witch’s smile deepened at her realization, but kept her hand outstretched to the faerie. 

“Would you like to try letting go, my love?” The witch asked the question so gently, like talking to a spooked horse. “So much weight you carry…”

Confusion sprouted in the faerie’s chest, unsure what exactly the witch meant by “letting go”. Though she did know of the weight she carried. Of the sorrow she wore like armor.

“As if a witch could even begin to understand the depths of what I carry,” the faerie snapped her reply, her armor of sorrow catching a moment’s light. “There’s nothing your kind can do for me.”

Perhaps reading her contempt for hostility, the witch retreated a step, holding her arms out wide in an open gesture to the faerie. 

“We have all come for one thing. To purge the wounds of our past,” the witch motioned to the fire at the word purge, “and find what brings our souls purpose, what makes us want to walk out of this wood. We were all lost once, like you my dear. But Fate brought us here, to have a place where we can collectively heal, without Time’s gaze pressuring us. To feel and let go of every scar we bear, every hurt we carry.”

The faerie only stared at the witch wide eyed, unsure of what she was hearing. She’d come for punishment, for retribution on her soul. But this… all of this was too kind for what she’d done, for what she was. She needed to be purged along with everyone’s guilt and grief, not alongside them. For centuries, she’d used the powers of Gods and Goddesses for her own benefit, without remorse or permission. She was not worth saving.

“What difference does any of that make if I’m still allowed to live? There is no healing from what I’ve done, witch, only my penance,” the faerie retorted, practically spitting the word witch. To the witch’s credit, she only looked at the faerie blankly. Or was that pity she saw in her eyes?

The faerie was on her feet now, inches away from the witch’s face. “Don’t pity me, I deserve this! Fate brought me here, to my end, to balance the scales. All I’m capable of is destruction. The years I spent silently killing, torturing, stalking, stealing magic. All for a Queen who never valued my service to begin with. I’ve murdered in cold blood, using power the God’s should be weilding. Conjuring power I know nothing about. Using these stolen powers to terrorize cities, entire civilizations cut down by the magic I wield. There’s no redeeming the death I’ve seen to, nor will Fate allow me to try.” The faerie’s voice hitched at the last word.

Try…

And try she had. She’d tried to balance the scales herself. Bring life, rather than death. But neither Fate nor Time – not even Veter – would allow her belly to swell to completion. She supposed she deserved to have something taken from her as well. She just hadn’t thought it would have all come so soon. And all at once.

The faerie was seething now, eyes burning into the witch’s. More pity in the witch’s face, so much now the faerie instinctively pounced. But before she could even get her hands on the witch, she was instead taken into her arms, clutched so tight the faerie thought she might suffocate. She thrashed in the witch’s arms, struggling to escape her smothering embrace. But the witch didn’t let up, keeping a firm hold on the faerie. She was using every scrap of fight she had left to struggle against the witch’s grasp. 

But then something entirely unexpected happened. Suddenly, the faerie was breathing heavily, limbs gone to mush. Every guard she’d set up, every wall she’d built, the very dam the faerie had built to contain all of it, came crashing down. Hard. Every feeling of sorrow, rage, grief all came flooding through her and a wail escaped the faerie’s lips, filling the clearing with everything she’d come with, every emotion she’d brought with her.

The witch only remained in their embrace, a rock in the crashing waves of emotion. The faerie didn’t know how long they held each other, how long it took for the faerie’s breathing to slow, and for the sorrow to subside, but it eventually did. Her breathing calmed, her body warm from the emotion and the roaring fire before them. The witch only soothed her, smoothing out the faeries wings with a delicate touch.

“We all deserve to heal, my dear. Everyone deserves peace. Especially the worst of us. The so-called monsters in this world,” the witch pulled away just enough to gesture to herself. “They need this place the most. A place filled with grace and compassion. Brimming with forgiveness and rebirth. Your right to peace is not dependent on what you’ve done, or who you believe yourself to be. Every soul on this soil deserves a chance at peace. A chance to heal, to change.” The faerie continued her deep breaths, relishing in the witch’s soothing touch. “You believe yourself to be a harbinger of death, yes? Well, one’s old self must die to have a rebirth.”

For the first time since the faerie’s banishment, since the loss of her too-small child, since Veter had been gracious enough to reach out, the faerie let herself feel into those losses, and embraced the pit of grief inside her soul. She did deserve to heal, to allow peace to settle into the once ever-growing pit, instead of sorrow. Nothing had been as it seemed, but like the witch had said, every soul deserved a chance to change.