Born Of Nothing

28

“You will have to be more specific. Not that I am all that entertaining, but I would not know where to begin,” he teased with a smirk. “Good point. I do have something I was wondering about, but I don’t want to upset you if it’s a sensitive subject.” I glanced to where he walked beside me, and he gave me a wary but encouraging nod. “I was wondering, if you don’t have magic anymore, how is it you’re still immortal?”

“You know, I debated about that a great deal in the early years. Would I begin to age? Would I heal if gravely wounded? The aging question was only answered with time, and my healing ability was put to the test on a number of occasions when my hunting skills proved less than stealthy. I did not heal as quickly as I had before my exile, nor was my healing as drawn out as a human’s. I attributed my continued immortality to two possible sources. Either the Fae retain a latent amount of magic, or my ability was owed to the magic found in the land itself.” His answer was contemplative, even clinical in nature considering the subject matter was his life expectancy. “So, if your immortality was owed to the land, and now you’re here on Earth where there’s less magic than in Faery, would you become mortal?” I asked the question quietly, both to prevent others from hearing, and because the subject itself was a delicate matter. I hoped that I had not upset him with my prying. He nudged my shoulder with his and gave a tight smile. “I can’t return to Faery, so even if I did become mortal, there is little I could do about it. Either way, I don’t believe that will be a problem, nor am I one to borrow troubles.” His comment had effectively ended the conversation. Even though I still had more questions, I kept them to myself for the time being. We walked the next few blocks in silence, each lost in our own thoughts until I spotted a small brown terrier being walked by a young man on the opposite side of the street. Its little legs raced to keep pace with its owner, and I giggled at the sight. “What an adorable puppy,” I said wistfully. Fen eyed the scraggly-haired dog with confusion as we passed. “When I lived on Earth before, the dogs were much larger and more wolf-like. They were used for hunting and protecting the livestock. What is the purpose of such a tiny animal?” “It’s a pet. We keep dogs and cats, and a number of other animals, almost like members of the family,” I explained. “Do you have a pet?” he asked curiously. “No, although I always wanted one. My mom never wanted the fur in the house. Back in Faery do they not keep pets?” I asked. He glanced at me coyly. “The animals of Faery are not something you want to bring into your home on purpose.” I lifted my head in response. “Well that’s intriguing and somewhat terrifying.” “No more intriguing than the things here on Earth.” “Like what?” “Like that building,” he said pointing toward the local bus station. “I have seen those large, box-like cars before, and often here at this location. What is its purpose?” “Those are busses, and that’s the bus station. Anyone can buy a ticket to ride on the bus if they don’t have a car of their own. It’s much too far to walk to other cities, or even from one side of a single city to the other, so busses are provided to get people where they want to go.” “Anyone can ride on these busses?” he asked appraisingly. “Yes, so long as you pay for a ticket, but they’re not expensive. The idea is that most anyone should be able to afford a bus ride.” He eyed the opposite side of the road where passengers loaded onto a departing bus. Yet another experience I saw from a new perspective because of my time with Fen. I loved being a part of his exploration, which was exactly why I had planned our morning outing. When we reached our surprise destination, I stopped and held my arms out broadly. “Here we are!” He glanced up at the kiosk and studied the brightly lit sign. “What is a ‘cinema’?” “It’s like watching a program on television, only much bigger. They show movies and people pay to go watch the movie,” I tried to explain. Fen just stared back at me blankly. “Come on, you have to experience a movie at the theater at least once.” I grabbed his hand and pulled him to the ticket booth. “Two for the ten o’clock showing of Antman and the Wasp.” I exchanged my money for the tickets and then pulled Fen inside the building. “I’ve been wanting to see this one. It’s a superhero movie with a love story—a little something for everyone. Come on, we need to get our seats so we don’t miss the previews.” “Superhero? Previews? Sometimes I’m not certain that we are both speaking the same language,” he said in bewilderment as I dragged him into the darkened theater. A weekday matinee meant we had the theater to ourselves, so we selected the perfect seats and I peered at Fen out of the corner of my eye. The moment the lights dimmed, and the first preview queued up, he went inhumanly still. The light from the screen reflected off his wide eyes, and I began to fear that I’d made a horrible mistake. Just as I leaned in to tell him we didn’t have to stay, a child-like grin pulled wide across his face. He watched the screen with pure, unadulterated wonderment. His joy was mine, and I was grateful for the gift of such a beautiful smile. Wanting to share the moment with him, I squeezed his hand where he gripped the armrest, and he instantly took my hand in his. We watched several previews before Fen leaned toward my ear. “Thank you for sharing this with me. It’s much louder and more intense than I would want all the time, but it’s also fascinating. I have never seen anything like it,” he stage-whispered. “The theater can be the perfect escape when you need a break from reality. I love going to the movies, and I’m really glad you like it,” I responded with a heartfelt grin. Fen hooked his hand behind my neck and pulled my lips to his in a quick but passionate kiss. As we pulled apart, our eyes locked for a heated moment before we both turned back to the screen. For the next two hours we laughed and cheered, his hand never leaving mine.