Dark Fey Collection

Chapter 6

As the beaming light of a new day glimmered over the distant horizon, Ayla lay in her bed awake and starting at the ceiling as her thoughts replayed, over and again, every moment she had spent with Mardan. Nothing could compare to the joy she felt at that moment or the anticipation she suffered as she counted each minute until she could see him again. Although they had only parted hours before and he would be leaving Hwyndarin to return to his studies at the Temple, she knew she would see him again. She absolutely knew it and that knowledge was sufficient to see her through. At last, she closed her eyes and sighed with heavenly contentment.

Birdsong filled the air outside her open window as the light of morning stole closer through the emerald shadows of the forest and there was no immediate indication that she was not on her own. As she lay, curled beneath her bedcovers trying to capture a few moments of precious sleep, she became aware of a sensation she could neither name nor recognize. It was not fear she felt, yet her eyes snapped open at the discovery and she gazed around the dim room, repeatedly reassuring herself that all was well and that her night lantern was still aglow.

She could neither see nor hear anything amiss, yet her acute senses warned her of an indistinct presence. Stretching out her sensitivity like a panther scenting the air for prey, she failed to discover the precise reason for her uneasiness, but could not assure herself that there was no reason for it either. She searched the corners for shadows, but there were none. She raised herself up in her bed and peered out the open window into the garden, hoping to see the rosy glow of sunlight illuminating all, cascading through the dark green canopy, but shadows haunted the woods just beyond her garden gate.

Ayla stole to the window and gazed out, sensing the presence. There was no shred of doubt in her mind, but she could see no one, either in her bedchamber, in the garden outside or the woods beyond. Nevertheless, she stretched her senses a bit farther, ignoring the ever present warnings that swirled in her mind when she relied solely upon her empathic ability. It was equally advantageous and dangerous to use her senses to read another. She could often know a person"s intentions far sooner than when she relied upon her five senses alone; however, one could never be certain of the emotional or mental stability of the one being read. She could easily become overwhelmed by powerful emotion, lose her thoughts as well as her self-control, and become entangled in the intensity surrounding her mind.

With a sudden stab of recognition, she realized that he was there. Although she had no physical proof that the presence she sensed was either male or female, she inscrutably knew it to be male. It was the same presence she had been aware of in the gamesyard of the nursery, the same one she had sensed before Summerfest. A lingering, stealthy shadow in the corner of her gaze made her turn her head sharply towards the dimly lit woodland, but she could see no one and after a moment longer the feeling disappeared.

heHe had gone.

“Who is he?” Nayina asked when Ayla related her experience a few days later during one of their luncheons. Ayla shrugged uncomfortably. There was always the possibility that she could be utterly wrong about her assumptions.

“I do not know. Maybe it is someone who likes me, but is even more shy than I.” She laughed at the thought and shook her head. “Or it may not be a person at all.”

“Just your imagination? I do not think so.” Nayina interjected with obvious skepticism.

“I could simply be misinterpreting what I am sensing. That is the trouble with "reading", you can misunderstand what you think you are sensing. It could be nothing more than a self-aware animal, of which there are many, and I could be seeing it as something else.”

Nayina stared at her long-time friend with uncertainty, torn between impatience with her ambiguity and the natural inclination to be concerned about such an odd occurrence. Ayla often let her clairvoyant abilities run away with her, resulting in hurt feelings and humiliations, but if she was, indeed, sensing a person she had every reason to be wary. She suggested that a conversation with the Elders might help set her mind at ease, but Ayla shook her head fervently.

“I will not bring them into it, not yet anyway. You know as well as I do they would have the entire village in chaos before nightfall with secret investigations, questionings and Seeings. No, I will be sure of things myself before I do anything.” She knew she was looked upon with disparagement already and she did not, under any circumstance, wish to fuel the fire with wild reports of unseen phantoms haunting her garden. In such an event, the Elders could easily call her back to the Temple permanently, supposing her unstable in everyday life. She simply could not bear such a thought.

Nayina altered their conversation to a lighter theme and spoke about Mardan and her friend"s feelings for him, as Ayla could be convinced to talk about him for hours with very little enticement. They spent the afternoon at the gamesyard watching over the little ones of the village and singing the praises of young, handsome malefey and not a trace of uneasiness crept into Ayla"s mind to disrupt the pleasantness of their day.

Returning to her quiet cottage before sundown, she carefully lit all the evening lamps, prepared a small meal and then sat reading in her garden until the darkness of nighttide urged her indoors. Secured against intrusion by the steady glimmer of light filling her home, she decided to retire early. She was inexplicably curious to discover if the presence would return, if she would recognize it as the same male entity and if she might determine his intentions. She waited in silence upon her bed, her eyes closed in a feigned attempt to sleep as she counted the moments until they began to run together like sand in a time glass.

Outside her window, the eerie call of an owl echoed through the garden and she started violently in surprise at the sound, searching the corners of the dim room instinctively, but finding nothing. The owl called again, settling her nervousness, but intensifying her desire to discover the source of the presence haunting. She lay back upon her pillow once again. In her noiseless reverie she found her hearing was more attuned to her surroundings, her senses more vigilant. Every whisper of breeze across the emeraldine canopy, every fluttering insect that visited her window and every cry from the forest shook her to her very core. Yet as the night progressed and she struggled against sleep, no ethereal presence crept into her consciousness.

As the first light of dawn speckled the forest with the glimmering light of the sun peeking over the distant horizon Ayla sighed sharply in agitation. Successful only in causing herself undue stress and losing a full night"s sleep, she rose wearily from her bed and stared with a bleary gaze out her window as she attempted to focus her thoughts and gather some residual strength to face the coming day. She would not tell anyone of her sleepless night or of her quest to discover the truth about her tormentor, as she had begun thinking of him. Such conversations would only bring her under further scrutiny and would serve no useful purpose. She would simply continue on and hope the next time she sensed his presence she would be better prepared to determine the truth about him.

hisSummer waned and autumn began to tinge the woodland with shades of gold, crimson and russet, and in response the Fey began preparations for the coming silence of winter. Additional vigilance had to be taken during the long months of wind and brutal weather. Walls that were weak had to be reinforced; roofs that were thin required supplementary thatching; warm, woolen cloaks had to be cleaned and prepared for extended months of use. The flocks of sheep and goats that provided milk, butter, cheese and wool had to be gathered into sheltering barns and stables. Many of the artifacts that graced walkways, byways and gathering groves were removed and stored in secure buildings or covered tightly with waxed, woolen tarps, which would keep out even the most drenching rain or seeking ice.

The nursery gamesyard was also closed down for the season. Toys and entertainments that delighted young Fey the remainder of the year were relocated indoors or covered for the season and the inner gardens where the childfey would play for the next several months were cleaned, refreshed and brightened with torches. Everyone helped to ensure all the necessary changes were ready before the cold hand of frost from the lands of the North descended upon Hwyndarin and this meant that Ayla got to see much of Mardan.

They were often found working together, side by side and vastly contented to be so. They would luncheon together along with Nayina and her companion Reydan. They would tarry in secret avenues of beech coppice in delightful solitude and they would fly hand in hand to Ayla"s door nearly every evening, reluctant to part even for the few short hours of the night. Ayla"s heart filled with affection for her attentive companion and almost before she could put a name to her own feelings her few close friends were whispering surreptitiously of her being in love.

One late October morning, Mardan found himself detained and unable to meet her before she set off for the nursery gardens where she was helping to decorate the interior walls with intricately folded and cut paper birds, butterflies, and all manner of fauna. They had already painted the walls a rainbow of bright colors and had only these last details to complete to make the gardens appropriately cheerful. Ayla waited on him as long as possible, but in the end had to proceed on her own through the sparse alleyways of pear and pine, and as she fluttered hurriedly through the crisp morning air she felt a tinge of apprehension slither over her.

Immediately she recognized the sensation. She was not alone, although no other Fey were within sight. She was concealed by the pear trees, which had not yet shed their crimson leaves. There were no homes along the way to which she could flee and the nursery was still some distance away. Even her friend Nayina lived too far away; she had no alternative but to stop, turn and face her tormentor.

She knew it was him instantly. The spine-tingling sensation of trepidation and inexplicable curiosity that accompanied his presence had become unnervingly familiar. Although she could not ascertain his purpose in pursuing her and she was aware of his presence with startling regularity, he never once fully revealed himself to her. Moreover, she did not mention his "visits", as she had begun calling them, to either Nayina or Mardan in the fear that they might think her off-balance or notify the Elders. She merely continued to do everything within her power to contain her fright at being thusly pursued and, each time she became aware of him, she made a diligent attempt to pierce the darkness surrounding him.

himTurning in the air nonchalantly, she swept her gaze over the surrounding woodland hoping to discover his whereabouts, but his presence was as vague as ever. The misty forest hampered her inspection of her surroundings, yet as she turned back in the direction of the nursery a brief vision arrested her gaze. From the corner of her sparkling amber eyes she could, at last, make him out. Excited and terrified in the same instant, she dared not spin round to face him, but gazed sidelong in overwhelming, trembling curiosity.

She had not been mistaken. He was undeniably malefey. Although he remained cloaked in the shadows, she could see he was tall and was dressed in very dark colors, which was quite odd for a Fey of the Light. Most Fey she knew were fair of aspect, fair of countenance and fairly adorned, yet he pressed into the shadows of the forest and was only barely discernible. Most startling of all was the deep red of his aura.

She could not prevent herself from turning at this shocking discovery to gaze at him directly, yet, in that moment, he vanished into the darkness like a wolf disappearing into fog. Utterly exasperated and unable to contain herself, she cried out after him in the loudest voice she could muster.

“Who are you?” Only silence answered her, but she could not bring herself to shrug him off and continue along her way. She knew he remained, watching her; he had simply concealed himself better.

“What do you want of me?” she called after him again.

From the opposite direction, in a rush of feathers and swirling leaves, she felt a sudden presence come up behind her. Right behind her! Twisting abruptly with a shriek, she backed away, unprepared for such a sudden assault, but even as she turned a familiar voice rang in her ears.

“I am sorry I frightened you, Ay.” It was Mardan. He had caught up with her and now hovered over her with an unreadable expression of concern. She jolted backward in surprise, then sighed prodigiously and flung her arms about him.

“Oh it is you, Mardan,” she exclaimed and then checked herself. She dared not risk the chance that the one person in the world who she cared about above everything and everyone else should think she was odd. Enough Fey already had that impression. He returned her embrace warmly, pulling away from her slightly to give her a tender kiss in greeting. For a brief moment, her senses spun with dizzy delight and her awareness of his presence faded, but when Mardan pulled away and looked upon her with a markedly questioning gaze she knew she had to give some explanation for her peculiar behaviour.

his“I did not know who was following me,” she explained, attempting to keep her tone as blithe as possible, but her voice quavered in spite of her efforts.

“Should the thought of someone following you distress you so?” Mardan asked, his concerns deepening. He knew there was not a single Fey in all Hwyndarin that she needed to fear and she shook her head and laughed awkwardly.

“Of course not. You just surprised me.” Her nonchalant reiteration did not satisfy his intensifying concern and he reached to take her hand, staying her attempt to continue on as if nothing had happened.

“Ayla, you were more than surprised; you screamed.”

She paused, unwilling to return his stare. In her sudden discomfort she became aware of his skepticism, as well as the increasing interest of the one still observing her from the shadows.

“Clearly something has distressed you. Why will you not tell me what it is?” Mardan"s tone was gentle and justifiably anxious, yet she could not contain her sudden resentment of what she thought were unspoken accusations. Flustered by his interrogation, she sighed sharply and spun round to face him.

something“Nothing has distressed me. Can I help it if you startled me?” Mardan"s eyes widened at her caustic tone, but even her rebuke betrayed her. She had never spoken unkindly to him before or behaved so uncharacteristically cold.

“I suppose not.” His vague reply only fueled her fire of suspicion against him. She knew well enough how disparagement felt, but when it came from someone she cared so much about it hurt doubly. “You would tell me if something bothered you, would you not?” he verified, but she only shrugged and offered that she might, which amazed him even more greatly. “Why only might you?” His further inquiry broke her thread of patience and she smacked her delicate wings sharply together in an irrefutable display of anger.

“Because I cannot tolerate the condescension of everyone when they think how odd I am!” she retorted with tears standing in the clear amber of her eyes; then she turned abruptly away and shot off towards the nursery, leaving Mardan behind in a confusion of thoughts and emotion.

A few yards away, secluded in the shadows of the forest and equally perplexed by her sudden display of intense emotion, he watched her retreat as well.

he