Sean Cullen - The Prince of Neither Here Nor There

“She roamed the Earth for an age, taking pleasure in what she had wrought, but at last, she became dissatisfied. She longed for someone to share this world with. So she took two fistfuls of sand from the shore of the ocean and she dipped them in the salt sea. Taking great care, she formed the wet sand into two figures, one with her left hand and one with her right.

“With her right hand she formed the first Human, proud and tall. With her left hand, in a mirror image of the Human, she formed the first of the Fair Folk. They were alike, yet different as siblings are wont to be. Yet they both pleased her greatly.

“The Sun and the Moon looked down on what she had done, and they were jealous of the attention she gave her new children. They didn’t like to see their Mother doting over them.

“They were also jealous of each other. They argued over who was most important, who was most powerful, and who held the larger place in their Mother’s heart.

“They became bitter toward each other and that bitterness led them to try to win the hearts of their Mother’s new creations. Brother Sun whispered in the ear of the Human, filling him with pride and arrogance. He encouraged the Human to mistrust the Fair Folk. He taught him how to dig in the Earth and find metals to make tools to cut the Earth and subdue her. This is why we call Humans the People of Metal.

“Sister Moon likewise led the child of the Mother’s left hand away and taught him that he was most favoured. She showed him hidden mysteries: the rhythm and flow of the Earth, the movements of the stars, the secrets of growing things, and the hidden heartbeat of the universe. So the children of the left hand were more in tune with the natural world, and their empathy gave them long spans of years.

“The other wedge driven between the two peoples was the fact that though the Fair Folk were long of life, they rarely produced offspring. The Humans were very fertile and soon they spread across the green face of the Earth, digging, cutting, and shaping the world to fit their wishes.

“The children of the left hand and the right hand began to dislike each other. Brother Sun and Sister Moon poured malice and bile into the ears of the Humans and the Fair Folk. Soon the two peoples took up weapons, and a war was fought with dire losses on each side.

“When the Mother returned from a journey through the stars, she was dismayed at the rift between them, their quarrelling and hostility. Everywhere was devastation and suffering. She was furious with her children, Sun and Moon, for bringing disharmony to her creation. So she separated the night from the day and banished the Sun and the Moon to the far reaches of cold space, imprisoning them in an endless cycle that held them always apart except for rare times when the Sun and the Moon share the sky. Even then, they try to blot each other out whenever the opportunity arises, for they cannot put aside their jealousies, each blaming the other for their imprisonment.”

Ariel smiled sadly. “And so, the Mother made the Humans and the Faeries lay down their weapons and make a Truce. They would share the Earth and respect each other. Having established the peace, the Mother then went away again beyond the stars, for she had other worlds to tend. Time passed. The Humans dug and cut and burned and bred generation after generation. The Faeries kept themselves apart and the peace held. After thousands of years, the Humans forgot all about the Truce, and Faeries to them became only stories, passed down from generation to generation until the truth was lost.

“But we Faeries are not so fertile. The generations pass but slowly to us. We live long and our memories do not fade. Now we keep the Truce because our numbers are small. Our only hope for survival is to live quietly between the seams of the Human world. And so we endure.”

The tall man smiled at Brendan and asked, “Does that answer your question? I’ve had to skim through the details, and we Faeries love details, but that is our story… and your story, too.”

Brendan blinked. He looked down at the table and found a platter of cheese, bread, and slices of ham. A bowl of soup steamed at his elbow. Beside the bowl was a clay tankard brimming with foaming liquid. He had been so engrossed in Ariel’s story that he hadn’t noticed Saskia returning with the food. He started when he looked up to find her smiling her fierce smile at him. “Thanks.” She nodded and blurred away again.

He was suddenly ravenous. Needing some time to absorb what Ariel had told him and to formulate his next question, he picked up a slice of ham and draped it over the dark bread. After adding a lump of cheese, he took a bite. The food was simple but perfectly satisfying. He chewed thoughtfully, savouring the flavour and swallowing at last.

“So, Humans don’t really know there are Faeries?”

“For the most part, no,” Ariel said. “Only those we allow to see us for what we are know of our existence, and those are rare indeed. They must be trusted with our great secret, and so we only reveal ourselves sparingly. Some suspect our existence but cannot confirm it because we live among them and hide ourselves with glamours to keep our existence secret.”

“Glamours?” That word again.

“Manipulations of the Earth’s energy… you might call it magic.”

Brendan recalled all the strange experiences he’d had over the last couple of days. He thought about his ability to use the birds for his defence and what Kim had said about him Compelling Orcadia. What other explanation was there besides magic? “What are the Arts?”

“Ah,” Ariel laughed and shook his head. “Another question that is impossible to answer without an age of time. Some say I am the wisest of my kind, but even so, I would not be able to give you an answer you might understand.”

“Why not?”

Og piped up, “Explain the wind! Explain the sea! Explain the stars in the sky. The Humans would try and break them down and tell you ‘The sea is a body of water’ or ‘The stars are balls of gas’ or some such. True enough but it doesn’t explain the power of the sea, the way the stars affect our souls. Faeries don’t label these things. We try to experience them on a deeper level and manipulate the energy they represent.”

Ariel nodded in agreement, adding, “A crude explanation but accurate.”

“I’m nothing if not crude.” Og grinned and raised his glass of amber whisky. “And I am sometimes accurate.” He knocked back the whisky in one gulp and wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

“Og is too humble,” Ariel said softly. “He is one of the greatest Artificers our people have ever produced. That requires steady hands and a keen mind.”

Brendan looked sidelong at his professed uncle. “An Artificer? Kim mentioned them. What is an Artificer?”

“One of the disciplines of the Art. Artificers craft objects. In the past, Faeries like Og would forge magical weapons, rings of power, armour of invulnerability. Nowadays, our needs are different.”

“We Faeries don’t like the metal, see. It can hurt us,” Og said, waving for another whisky. “In strong enough concentrations it can kill us. In alloys, it can make us sick or give us allergic reactions based on the amount of iron in it. So I and people with my Talent, we make items for our folk to use out of proper materials. Lately, the Fair Folk have been fascinated by Human technology like… those televisions. Artificers find a way to make them work without being harmful to us.”

“So you made Kim’s cellphone?”

“Och, not me. I prefer more exciting items.” Og’s eyes lit up. “Engines! That’s what I love!”

Brendan said, “Like Kim’s scooter?”

“Aye! That’s one of mine.” Og beamed. “She’s my pride and joy.”