Most visitors to the cemetery entered through the wrought-iron front gate. It was a decent enough gate, a little warped from time and worn from weather, but it separated the townspeople from where their dead lay to rest.
In all her visits over the past year, Katherine never once considered that there might be another way into the cemetery. The well-trod path from the center of Lakesedge's town square to the outskirts of the forest knew her steps better than most. Every week, rain or shine, Katherine embarked on the hour-long hike. If her pack was a little heavier than usual with gifts and tokens, then she didn't mind, although her mother watched her leave from the upstairs of their shop with a deep frown.
Not once had her parents made the trek to the town limits to visit their youngest child. Not once had it been discussed.
Today was no different. Katherine left market day in the afternoon, having helped her father break down their extra stall, putting their various wares of blown glass, glass figurines, paperweights, and window panes carefully into hay-filled crates. Her father didn't notice or didn't care that a small figurine of a young girl found its way into the pockets of her dress. Now on the long, steep walk, the clear glass felt cool as her fingers held it. As she always did, Katherine kept her eyes ahead of her, but in her mind, she was mulling over the day.
The lack of substantial sales, the disinterested market-goers, the long hours; it was the same as many days, but today it felt longer. Most of the townsfolk had bought their wares earlier in the week, preparing for the Spring festival by buying small trinkets and glass jewelry. If the earnings were not spent immediately by her father at the town tavern, perhaps it would've been more successful, but after he drank his way through it, there was never much left.
From their stall's place in the square, she could see the small clearing on the mountain and watched it disappear and reappear with the waxing and waning sunlight. Her sister would've loved the sunny day, but there was not much her sister hadn't loved.
Animals, food, sunshine, rain, singing, reading, playing with Katherine. A lump formed in Katherine's throat, and she gripped the glass girl tighter. She didn't know why she kept bringing tokens to her sister. She would bring flowers, glass, snacks, and even read. It was as if she hoped that by pouring all of her grief and love into the tiny glass girl and all the other gifts that came before her, Katherine's love could transform.
Maybe, wherever her sister was, she could feel she was missed. Perhaps, if she put her wishes and hopes into the world, something would take her away to live a life of dreams, and it wouldn't hurt anymore.
Katherine had witnessed no signs that this was the case, but she hadn't stopped trying yet. She walked through the open gate, finding her target with familiar steps. Near the ancient willow tree and framed by its branches, Calla slept forever.
Her flowers from last time had been swept away from the recent wind, but Katherine smiled as she saw eleven glass figures surrounding the stone. It wasn't quite a perfect circle, but each stood strong, having survived winter, wind, and more to still sit where Katherine left them. Sure, the first three had moss growing on their sides, but it felt fitting. They were becoming part of the environment, part of the willow.
She knelt at the tree's base, brushing away fallen leaves and taking a small bouquet of lilies from her pack. She placed them directly in front of the white headstone and pulled the glass girl from her pocket.
Katherine stilled as she did, feeling a tingling in her fingertips. She frowned, looking behind her towards the gate. No one was there.
Why would anyone be? Katherine was always alone here.
She shook her head, batting the feeling away. With a careful hand, she placed the glass girl in the spot between the first and the eleventh figures. For a moment, she admired her handiwork.
That was until a flash of gold light seared through her eyes and mind right as she made to stand up. As she blinked away dark spots and a sudden feeling of light-headedness, she blinked harder, not understanding what was in front of her.
A strange man, dressed in dark blue with two gold chain bracelets around each wrist, stood directly in front of her, towering over her. Katherine stared at the man. The man stared back. She blinked more, unsure if her mind was addled from shock or if she'd smacked her head on the headstone while she placed the glass figurine. Either way, the first thing out of her mouth maybe didn't quite ring of clear-headedness.
"You're on my lilies."
The man parted his lips, tilting his head to the side. He blinked as if he was unsure what he was seeing or hearing. She stumbled to her feet, shaken.
"What?"
"I said, you're on my lilies."
They both looked down at his boot-clad feet. Sure enough, the beautiful white lilies Katherine picked out earlier at the market's cheapest flower stall were crushed into the damp earth. She glanced back at him, tipping her head back to meet his eyes, and raised a brow at his apparent loss for words.
"I got these specifically for my sister, and I had to trade a whole glass vase for it. Rather rude of you to land or appear or whatever you have done right on top of them."
"I— I'm so very sorry—"
"As you should be—"
"But where am I?" The man brought up a pale hand, flipping it over as if seeing it for the first time. He then raked it through his shoulder-length blonde hair. His eyes widened as his head swiveled around. Katherine huffed.
"You're in a cemetery, standing on my little sister's grave." She motioned around them to the simple but clean headstone. Then she pointed to the rest of the poorly kept grounds. The edges of the iron fencing fought a slow battle with the forest's tree line. Dozens of stone markings sat forgotten by time and relatives. Had this man never seen a cemetery before?
"Yes, I can see that, but where am I? What town is this?"
"You're in Lakesedge in Cairn. How deeply into the bottle did you go last night?" The man shook his head at her.
"I didn't drink, at least not yesterday." At that, he stopped peering around him in apparent confusion, instead bringing the full weight of his gray eyes on her. Katherine crossed her arms over her chest, self-conscious and realizing with an anxious breath that she stood alone with a man at dusk. She, too, glanced around. Katherine half-expected her mother to also materialize to chastise her for her lack of manners and common sense. She could hear it now.
No good ever comes from spending too much time with the dead, Katherine.
She wasn't sure if her mother would be overjoyed or disappointed that she'd been proven right.
Katherine eyed him back, taking in the golden embroidery on his tunic and equally golden specs on his skin and eyes.
The man made to take a step forward but staggered just as Katherine matched his step with one backwards. He grunted, removing his feet from the lilies and bending to crouch beside the headstone. Or, more accurately, beside the tiny glass figurines that circled the grave in various states of wear. Twelve figurines for twelve months, each a guardian for her sister, each a small token of Katherine's grief.
She fought the urge to snatch them away from him.
"What are these?" He brought a hand towards the first, a moss-worn set of intertwined butterflies. He moved to touch it but seemed to think better of it, withdrawing his hand.
"According to my father, they're a waste of materials and time. Also, who are you? How did you get here?"
"Did you make these?"
"Yes, who else would've? Now, answer my questions."
"They're exquisite." He almost poked another, this one a mermaid, but withdrew again, wary. "Are you magic? Did you use magic?"
"Thank you, but pardon me, what?" He pinned her with his odd eyes again, looking up at her from his crouched position. "No, I'm not, and I didn't. Are you? Did you?"
"I didn't used to be." Katherine gaped at him. Her mind was reeling now with a whole different set of questions. "Forgive me; it's been so long since I've spoken to another person. Well, perhaps person isn't the right word. Human. You're very human. You're very—" his mouth quirked, his expression a strange mix between resigned and in awe. "You're not what I expected."
"I'm sorry, but what in all of the six realms are you talking about?" Katherine felt frustration creeping into her, settling in her jaw and chest. "Look, I understand you have had a strange however long you've been wherever you've been, but I don't have time for strange men in strange clothes with even stranger intentions." She turned to leave, and the man took a step forward in panic, hissing at the apparent pain.
"I'm sorry, I— right. My name is Samuel. My apologies. I didn't come here on purpose; I was pulled here. By you, I think."
"I beg your pardon, but I have not pulled you anywhere." She felt a strong urge to pull him away from the willow and her sister, but Katherine hadn't acted on it yet.
"Maybe not intentionally." He smiled a sheepish smile. "Unless you happen to be an expert in ancient fae customs and are a glutton for punishment, I don't think you'd do this willingly." He rushed the last part of his sentence, eager to get it all out.
This man, Samuel, was a few rolls short of a baker's dozen.
"The fae aren't real, and if they were, they wouldn't care about me."
"They probably disagree." He tried to lean up against the willow tree but hissed, rubbing his arm quickly with his hand.
"I don't believe you, but--" she paused. Samuel had appeared suddenly, and if she looked down at the glass figures she'd lovingly crafted and placed there, they now had a faint blueish glow. "But, if I did, how could I have pulled you here, and what would it have to do with the fae?"
"You made a fae ring." He motioned to the figures. "They're not quite mushrooms, yet they're equally alive with your intentions. You love and miss your sister, and the fae would happily grant you your wish in exchange for your devotion and talent."
Stories of fairies, elves, dragons, mermaids, and witches swirled in Katherine's head as she attempted to remember the bedtime tales her mother had told her or the old wives' tales she'd heard at the market. Some of these things were true indeed. After all, a king of Cairn had outlawed witchery centuries ago, and small wyverns were often found hunting in the woods in Ecrivenia.
But the fae? And there was one more part, but it felt like a lie even as she said it.
"I didn't wish for anything." She pursed her lips. "And anyway, even if I had, why would the ring bring you to me?"
Samuel seemed once again lost for words. "I'm sorry, I don't know. I can only speak to my interactions with their deals. Perhaps it's that there are twelve figurines?"
"Why would that matter?"
"One for every year I've been," he waved a hand, trying to find the right words, "in their care?"
Katherine once again felt like this man had truly lost all sense. She took a step back, then another, but stopped, thinking better of it. She reversed, walking straight up to him.
"I'm not sure I understand why you're caught in this fantasy, but I must get home." She bent down and placed her fingers around the glass girl. Instinctively, she knew what to do.
"Wait, you haven't--"
She grabbed the figure, standing up and gritting her teeth as Samuel disappeared. The cemetery once again was empty except for her.
The other figures had lost their shine appearing as normal as small whimsical glass sculptures can look, but the glass girl in her palm radiated warmth.
She slipped it back into her pocket and tried to ignore the fluttering heartbeat of magic in glass her entire walk home.
What had she gotten herself into?
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What has she gotten herself into? What do you think of Katherine? What do you think she's accidentally done? Let me know in the comments! Also, while this chapter admittedly did arrive on a Friday, the next update will be coming Tuesday to keep with my writing schedule! Needless to say, updates every Thursday aren't exactly happening, but that's okay! Thanks for reading!