The Faerie Promise

The Librarian and the Nightly Visitor

Now, my dear readers, I would venture to say that most libraries across the world are going to have fairy tales in them. You know, ones like Peter Pan, Cinderella, etc. This library, on the other hand, was one of the few that had stories about the fae. And that was largely due to the librarian. The fae are very different than the fairies you read about in children's books.

Now, most "normal" people wouldn't know the difference, and would probably just think someone didn't know how to spell correctly. But for those who have had an encounter with the fae, and lived to tell about it, they know the difference. It was an unfortunate, or fortunate depending on your stake in this story, happening that the librarian in this tiny library was one of those rare people who had experienced such an encounter.

The librarian, Ms. Feathers, had been one of those children. One of those who disappeared to the faerie land only to reappear again a few months later. She was one who stayed a bit longer than what parents normally experienced with these things. You see, it's because she had imagination. Imagination allowed the child to hide out a little longer in faerie before they were caught and sent back. Aurora had imagination. And this bonded the two very early in their time together. Ms. Feathers found in Aurora someone to listen to her faerie tales and believe them, unlike others who called her "loony" under their breath. And Aurora found in Ms. Feathers someone to foster her imagination and her growing obsession with all things faerie. An obsession that unfortunately, or again fortunately, took a dark turn, as obsessions sometimes do.

Aurora was very thankful for her friendship with Ms. Feathers. This was because Aurora's parents did not believe in the fae, and Aurora knew that they existed. They told her it was baloney and changed the subject when she asked questions about them. These conversations would go something like this:

"Mommy, do you think faeries like blueberry cobbler? Can I put some in my window for them?"

"Oh Aurora. (Insert deep sigh, the corners of her mouth pulling down in a frown, and turning of her attention to her husband.) Darling, did you hear that Tom is planning to open a new restaurant downtown?"

And so, a disgruntled Aurora would sit and sulk at being put off by her parents, while silently slipping some cobbler from her plate and into her napkin hidden under the table to take to her room later. After her parents tucked her in at night, she would crack open her bedroom window and carefully set the cobbler, and later a myriad of other gifts she would sneak away to offer, on the sill.

The next morning she would run to her parents while they got ready for work and exclaim, "Mommy, Daddy, the cobbler is gone!" But, instead of believing the proof that she had a visitor, they scolded her for attracting mice into the house.

Yes," Ms. Feathers told her, "some people just outgrow their believings, which is a sad state for them."

But Aurora believed, and the visitor kept coming.  At least the food was most always gone in the morning. Unless she left vegetables of course. She quickly learned not to leave those, not if she wanted to keep her nightly gift giving routine a secret. Sometimes her visitor would leave gifts for her as well. A tiny daisy bloom, a few berries of unknown variety, and a delicate ring made of finely woven gold with a green gem in the shape of a leaf.

Ms. Feathers of course strongly discouraged her from taking these gifts. "The rules dear girl!" Aurora couldn't help herself, though. Thankfully she avoided eating the berries, but she couldn't be stopped from putting the ring on. It was her favorite gift and fit her finger perfectly, like it was made just for her. She assured Ms. Feathers she could take it off anytime she wanted. But she never did, and the ring magically grew with her as she aged.

So, not to be discouraged by her parents' disbelief, and encouraged by Ms. Feathers attention and education, Aurora continued her own research into the fascinating and dangerous world of faerie. And it is essential to her credit and survival, and perhaps to yours too my readers, that she did.