Center of Attention

Faeries Trick Their Own

     Dad and I grew up on the same knowledge for a long time until his coworker, Sobollum, reached out to me personally. He had told me that I was a Half-Fae, and that I needed to help fix the world the best way I could. I had been to 4025, claiming it was a class trip when I really needed to see the whole fuss about going back in time to fix everything. I had tried the same thing Dad was doing now, and it didn't work out. The faeries told me I was too young to have any good stories to exchange. They were right. Mine were mostly of the Center in the city and my stories I had myself drowned in.
     I turned to Smallik. "You'll figure something out, I think."
     Smallik laughed like a little child. "Now you're agreeing with me?"
     "No. I still think the best solution is to kill the Center, but at least you two are trying. It's better than nothing, and I'm sure my father can get more out of Viobin than I ever could."
     "He's good at that. Making you say the truth and only the truth." Smallik sighed in happiness. "I'm sure he'll do his best, and he'll have everything figured out."

      I felt like everything around me was melting into one. Viobin had led me to a large, wooden clearing filled with tree stumps that led to places unseen by my vision. A few wisps of yellow light had appeared, but there was no one but me and this small ball of light that was waiting. For stories. She told me that it was okay if I didn't have anything to say right away since most people didn't have much time to prepare a speech long enough to catch the faery's attention. Her eyes were set to stories, ones that she loved more than anything else, and she started telling me some of her own stories as a warm-up. I didn't know what to tell her. Was tragedy something that faeries cared for, or was it heroic deeds that they wanted to hear?
     Viobin lied against one of the stumps, staring through me as I was stock still in the center of the clearing. Everything about her glistened like a shiny orb, but it shone in the wrong way that made you feel more uncomfortable than you should have been despite yourself.
      "Let's cut to the chase, shall we?" she stated, her demeanor changing. "As far as I'm concerned, you can tell me any story you like, but I won't tell you anything about how to fix the future. I quite like the faeries end. It's almost soothing, and I'll be honest and true about how much I hate seeing things change. I do a lot, you know."
     I rolled my eyes. "So, what was the point of coming here if you weren't going to help us in the first place? This entire time I had a belief in Smallik that we were going to figure something out here with you faeries."
     "Smallik was wrong. And so are you. Completely, utterly wrong about us."
     Though she tried to sound smart, there was a hint of sadness in her tone. I had a strange feeling that I needed to keep pressing her about it until she confessed the whole thing to me.
     "Viobin," I started. "I'm an Enforcer in my time. I found out from Smallik that we're not all the same in the way we act, like the ones in future Ortim would beat people senseless because they weren't human. It was... upsetting. Very upsetting. I have..." A hunch. A reason to suspect. Those words were on the tip of my tongue, but she cut me off.
     A large, glowing wind blew me off my feet, and I stumbled to the ground with a thud. Pain sot up through my lower back until it had eventually stopped at my chest. My heart ached tremendously from the blowing wind, and it was coming from Viobin. It surrounded her tiny body like it would protect her from everything all at once. She and I both knew better. Slowly, I had gotten to my feet, and I stared into her blue eyes. Her long, luscious hair that she had covered in clovers was now scattered as the wind picked it all up.
     I pushed against the wind. "You don't want to see your people die, do you? Just like every living thing with the concept of time, you're absolutely terrified to be killed or even see your own end. Your life will end before 9127, but you fear the day that your species is no longer cared for or known. Just like everyone else, you want to find a solution to an ending, but you can barely find the reason to trust me and my solution because you know that Enforcers hurt your people.        They wiped them off the map. Am I right?"
    The wind pushed me back. "I don't like this story," she whimpered. You could see the struggle that appeared on her face. The pain, the thoughts. All of it was flooding back to her at once, and you could see the fighting spirit in her dying the moment the words had slipped my mouth. I inched closer slowly as the wind weakened.
      "That's okay, Viobin. Whatever you think is wrong, it really isn't. You are so scared to die that you'd so much as kill one of the things in the world that's trying to find a reason to save the world?" Trying to find an answer. "I know what loss feels like."
     "No you don't."
     "My wife died fourteen years ago giving birth to my son." I didn't like to share that story with anyone, but I had to in order for her to listen. The wind weakened just a little more. "Fourteen years later, my son was killed because they wanted to get rid of any ties to the Center. Yes, I'm the Center, but that's not the reason why I want to help the world in the future. I want tragedy to be an afterthought, not a part of everyone's lives. You would do so much as to watch your own die to the Enforcers of the future rather than aid them in this time to keep their legacy alive? Viobin, I know that's not what you want. That's what you're telling yourself to stave off the fear that's continuously rising in your chest. Right?"
      Right. That's what she wanted to say, but the wind began to curl and curve around her own body until it completely engulfed her being. It was windy enough to keep my eyes closed. I shielded myself in order not to get any rising dust or dirt into my eyes. Then, the wind had stopped. Every spec of dirt that rubbed against my skin was completely gone, and I opened my eyes.
     Viobin was my size now, even taller than me as she stepped forward with her bare toes. Her hair was outlined in vines with pointed thorns, and her skin was poked at every joint with them. Her skin and eyes were blue all the same, and her wings were more curved than Smallik's. They were filled with many different blues that contrasted the darkness in her face. She approached.        Slowly, her feet had pressed down the grass until she towered over me. Her arms outstretched, she grappled onto me and kept holding on until my body laid heavily against hers. She cried. She cried a lot until her cries were like wails against the whole of the forest, and I almost wanted to cry with her.
     "I'm scared," she cried. "I'm scared to do anything because I don't want to hurt them anymore than I have."
       I heard a young Ogillitiy in her, and I squeezed her tighter like a child that had no one else to cry their worries to.
      "I know you are, and we're trying to help the world now," I said to her, stroking her hair like she was my own kid. "We need you to help us as much as we can help you."
      "Tell me a nice story, one with a hero that saves the day and beats the villain. It doesn't have to be real, it just has to sound nice."
      I pulled away and sat on the grass, and she followed me to sit across. Her teary eyes stared at me expectantly. Everything about her reminded me of a young child, one in particular I had to take care of for fourteen years. I smiled a bit knowing that she was like that.
      I told her a story about a hero with the power to spread love to those who didn't have it. It was a story I told my son many times over and over to make sure he understood that love was better than hate (a villain with the power of hate would spread it around the city in the story), and I had still emphasized my point with her even though she was a grown adult with no reason to listen. She did listen, however. Smallik did say that faeries liked stories, but she was so enthralled with the way my voice sounded that she slowly inched closer and closer until her eyes were right in front of mine. A few times I stuttered from the intensity.
      When my story was done, she stood and grabbed me by the wrist to pull me upwards. She stared at me up and down, looking at every cut and bruise that laid on my skin. Her gentle fingers wrapped in mine, and she began to chant something under her breath in a language that sounded close to Faean. A wind rose from nothing underneath my feet. It swirled and cried until it covered the entirety of my skin like moving bandages that I couldn't get rid of. Then it was gone. All of it disappeared until I was the only thing left standing. My cuts and bruises that I had been collecting since I got here had suddenly been gone. No dried blood, no blackness on my pale body. I was astonished, and I kept my eyes on her for a moment before she latched onto me again and led me out from the clearing.
      "We should get back to your friend," she whispered. "I can show you the way to fixing everything, but you're going to have to travel through the woods."
       "That's fine," I sighed. "I'll just collect more cuts and bruises until there is nothing left of me to hurt anymore."