Shifting Winds

Fell winds that blow from heights above be strangers to my soul.

~ Brand the Bright

Sunday, May 10, 2009

At midnight, Aerrvin set out to dance the night away. Jaera continued to sleep soundly. Gareth roused enough in the nest they shared to wish Aerrvin happy dancing.

As a rule, Fairies prefer sleeping in nests of soft down or dandelion fluff. So, even when living among Humans, they preferred to shrink down and pile all together with as many others as would fit. With only the three of them, their nest was rather small. Yet, it was quite cozy since they shared it with a mama cat. She would deliver new kittens any day now, and Fairies so love Birth Days. Gareth worried about Jaera missing it, so he stayed with her to ensure she slept well. If need be, he wanted to wake her for the grand event.

The stars twinkled in the crisp night air. The moon was a waning three-quarter light, seemingly suspended by an invisible string, like an ornament with a silvery blue glow. The Fair One’s nightlife was at its height. Aerrvin stopped to join a musical duo, adding his flute as they played a happy jig for three cavorting Green Fairies. Like Jaera the Green, they were emphatically the wildest Fairies one might meet. Aerrvin chuckled as he raced his way to Mara’s window.

“Stop right there!” commanded a snide Orange Fairy. “Who gave you permission to be here?”

Aerrvin stopped halfway to the window and then flew up to the top of a fir tree where he saw three Orange Fairies with swords.

Swords! Weapons have not been part of Fairy attire for centuries. Arguably, not since the European Inquisitions. Aerrvin’s mind buzzed as he tried to make sense of the scene.

“I did not realize this house belonged to anyone’s territory.”

“Oh, you’re new. From the Green Isle herself, are you? Listen up, The Emerald City belongs to Lord Morvayne; he sends us out to ensure no one messes with Mara. She belongs to him, and you are best advised to go back to where you came from. Unless you want to pledge your services to him? You appear to be quite ‘Bright.’ He could find a use for you.” The Fairy studied Aerrvin.

“Yes, I would like to meet Lord Morvayne. Does he live here?” Aerrvin gestured to the house and gazebo with a graceful sweep of his arm.

“No, he is visiting with—hmmm, friends.” The Orange Fairy laughed a dry rasping excuse for mirth. “Besides, she has a ward on the house; none of our Fairies can gain access.”

“Why do you need inside?” Aerrvin casually bounced on the end of a green-tipped branch, gently fluttering his holographic wings.

“That is Lord Morvayne’s business. Should you feel bold enough to ask him, you may meet us at the Zoo’s Fairy Ring Council on Monday night. We will introduce you to him ourselves. By the way, my name is Ozzie; this is Bud and Jasper.” He pointed first to the taller, and then to the stouter of his two companions.

Yellow and Orange Fairies banded together often, yet Aerrvin had never heard of any counsel based solely on color. He was a Purple Fairy with White traits; his sister was Yellow, also with White inherited from their Mother. Aerrvin groaned to himself; he did not like Yellow and Orange Fairies that much, mainly because of their tempers, especially when they did not get their way. Yellows were often clever at solving puzzles and wards, so he understood why Oranges liked to keep them around.

The glow around Fairies as they fly allows all who see them the ability to perceive what kind of Fairy they are, and sometimes the strength of their power. Aerrvin’s royal birth gave him Silver and Gold abilities, including the capacity to mask the strength of his powers. Flashing Gold or Silver was ever in poor taste, so Aerrvin did not worry about being identified by his glow. Purple was all they saw.

Spiraling up through the air with a laugh, the prince replied, “And I go by Aerrvin. If the music is right, I will be there.”

With a triple loop-de-loop, he sailed away from both Mara’s house and his own. Aerrvin had never heard of a Fairy Ring Council inside the zoo. He happened to be the nearest royal, so all councils were obliged to send tributes to him yearly, and new councils were to request permission from him before forming. Exhaling his frustration, he headed for the Fairy Ring outside of Tacoma; because of their extensive library, someone there could provide insight.

“I need information on this Lord Morvayne,” Aerrvin explained to the librarian, after rousing him.

“Hm, he has never made an appearance in any of the recognized councils. This news of a Fairy Ring in the zoo is news indeed!” replied the dried-up twig of a Fairy.

He must be near nineteen hundred years old! Aerrvin marveled to himself. Then, upon registering what the librarian said, he frowned.

“Now don’t fret, I am aware of a Lord Morvayne, but he is not a Fairy, he is an Elf.”

“An Elf? What is he doing in a Fairy Ring?”

“There will be no more answers until you learn to speak with greater respect!” sniffed the librarian. “I attended your birth, you know, and I am acquainted with your father very well. I was your great grandfather’s personal musician, great is his memory. At his leaving, I chose to immigrate to the New World.”

“My apologies, Balmoral, both for my rudeness and for not recognizing you. Please. Can you tell me why an Elf is controlling a Fairy Ring?” Mentally Aerrvin pinged with joy. The Great Musician, Balmoral, is a librarian in Tacoma! Most Fair Folks thought he had Faded already.

Smiling in approval, Balmoral replied, “No, but some ideas are flitting about in this antediluvian head of mine. Morvayne lived here,” he gestured his hands to signal the land round about, “among the native tribes before the Europeans arrived. They worshiped and served him while he lived the good life. No fault there, of course. We’ve all experienced Humans falling all over themselves to serve us.” He smiled at some ancient memory, and continued, “When this region started to grow, as Humans became more populous everywhere, Morvayne fled to the next dimension as so many others chose to do. But he left word with a band of Yellow Fairies to keep him informed of the doings of Seattle, as the city had been named. ’Tis a pity too—how they mangled the Chief’s name that way. Be that as it may, Lord Morvayne said he would visit as needed.”

“So,” Aerrvin surmised, “these Yellows and Oranges choose to follow him by their own choice. But, that still doesn’t tell me what he wants with Mara. She is Human, right? But then, why is her house warded against Yellows and Oranges?”

“Mara Jamis?” Balmoral asked. Receiving a nod, he continued, “Mara is the daughter of Brentwood Jamis, whose father is the last son of the last son of Princess Tigerlily. Princess Tigerlily, as surely you are aware, was one of the few Elven Maidens ever to choose to live life as a Human. As you know, her mother is Her Royal Highness Queen Gwennara, Queen of all The Realms. Our High Queen is in hiding as she defends herself against an unknown enemy. Mara is under observation by several factions, as she may be the final heir. The only other viable contender after Princess Arianna is a cousin, Breezy of Fairlane. The sisters of Tigerlily, namely Daffodil and Arianna, have not appeared in public for over one hundred years. Daffodil is assumed dead. Word is—Arianna, who is missing, attended Tigerlily’s funeral cloaked in invisibility. But I have not substantiated it.”

“That would explain the glow,” said Aerrvin. Mara emitted a faint opalescence, visible only with scrutiny and one had to be close, as one would be when dancing. “So, Mara has royal Elven blood in her, and is utterly unaware?”

“Apparently.”

Remorse and a twinge of shame washed over Aerrvin for not keeping up on the royal news. Yes, he had heard of Princess Tigerlily and her outlandish choice. To renounce the throne was huge enough news on its own; giving up magic and near immortality was almost unheard of among the Faire. For Mara to be so important, yet left unguarded, seemed preposterous. Too many thoughts vied for his attention. He decided to speak to Gareth about setting up sentries for Mara.

Changing the topic, the prince asked the librarian a favor, “Balmoral, if you please, it would honor me if you played at my Birth Day festival in two weeks.” Then giving directions to his current home, he added, “You need to be in Human form, as I may invite my neighbors.”

“I would be honored, Your Highness,” replied the old musician with a graceful bow.

“Thank you.” Aerrvin nodded in return. “Also, I would be most appreciative if you would do more research on what the Orange and Yellow Fairies are up to.”

Taking out his flute, Aerrvin played a farewell salute worthy of the Master Musician. Balmoral nodded his approval as Aerrvin floated up. With the last note, the prince flared a brilliant silver and sped northward.

With the warm wind at his back, the flight did not take as long as the trip there. In silence, he snuggled up with the cozy mama cat and his other Nest Mates. With visions of Mara in his mind, Aerrvin promptly fell asleep.