Faetality

"Papa, Papa, tell me a story." Little Isla whined to her father who had just arrived from a long and tiresome session of wood cutting. Isla's father, a good-looking young man in his early thirties carried his feisty young girl in his arms. She looked just like him. Unlike her mother who had thin dark hair and porcelain white skin, Isla had curly gold wisps for hair and her skin was dark gold as if kissed by the sun. "How about the story of how love conquered death, A story of how... "...A friendship was born between two different worlds." Isla chimed in, beaming for it was her favorite tale. Of course, she had heard it so many times. Nights so many that she could say the tale all by herself and not miss a detail but nobody said it better than her father. Isla's father strode to his rocking chair which was next to a fireplace that crackled with the brightest flames. It kept them warm as the snow ravaged mother Earth. He sat down, placing his little girl on his lap then he began his story. "Once upon a time, when the world was young and realms were torn, a sad woodcutter ventured into the forest with his dying wife as it was her desire to be with nature when her essence left her. Time trickled and as the cold hands of death began to pull two lovers apart. A voice in the shadow spoke. It said, "I have seen many come to the woods to kill themselves, to sin or to die in the hands of friends. Why aren't you snuffing life out of her?" "Because I love her." The woodcutter retorted. The word love fascinated the speaker and it came out of the shadows. Behold, it was a Sidhe. Creatures with ears that looked up to the heavens, eyes that looked like steel, and hair that flourished like a waterfall. The creature walked up to the man who did nothing but hold on to his beloved as her last breath left her. "What is love?" The creature asked the woodcutter but the man was too broken to speak. An idea sparked in the head of the Sidhe and it proceeded to ask, "Will you tell me what love is if I wake her up?" No one had ever tricked death. The woodcutter could only dream. Looking up at the steel-blue eyes that pierced his own, he begged the creature to bring her back. The Sidhe planted a kiss on the head of the dead woman and life returned to her. The woodcutter could barely believe his eyes and before he could thank the creature for its kindness, the sidhe retreated into the forest just as it had come. "Wait," The woodcutter pleaded. "I haven't told you what love is." The creature turned to face him and smiled. "Why not we meet here tomorrow?" On that day, love conquered death, and a friendship between man and Unseelie was born." "Yay!" Little Isla clapped in joy before running to help her mother with the food but little did she know this story was weaved of truth and would be her undoing in years to come.