A Glowing Mistake

“Alright, then. I’ll do it.” Maya clenched her fists as the other kids stared, shocked that she had accepted such a request. Without another word, she set off, the school children watching her back as she left. 

She hadn’t intended to accept such a dare, but the spur of the moment had caught up with her, and she had once again spoken without thinking. 

She was a ways away from the school now, the laughter from her classmates echoing in the distance. Her teachers were sure to be wondering where she disappeared to, and a call home was sure to be in order. Maya didn’t care. It wouldn’t be the first time she had run out of school in the middle of the day. As she walked further into the woods, however, she began wishing she was back in the grounds of the school. A creeping uneasiness started to surround her with each step she took. She felt as though she were being watched. Yet, she couldn’t turn back now, or else she’d be known among her class as a coward. She wouldn’t dare lie about it, either. People always had ways of discovering the truth. 

Maya was deep in the forest at this point, the boughs so thick that light could hardly filter through, and she had to squint before her eyes adjusted to the darkness. She wasn’t sure how much further she’d have to go, but everyone had heard the myths of where it might be found. 

She recognized what she was looking for by the faintly glowing mushrooms. The grass in the center of the mushroom circle was a shade of green that was just slightly off from the outside area. 

She knew she didn’t have to go in. She could step back now. If she were to go further, she might lose that chance to turn around. But Maya wasn’t a coward. 

The girl stepped into the faerie circle, feet hitting softly against the lush grass. The feeling she had of being watched disappeared in an instant, a forgotten anxiety blown away with confidence. She had always known faerie rings were just stupid legends. Everything she had read about them and the Fae suggested nothing else but fanciful myths. 

As proof to her peers of her so-called bravery, she plucked one of the mushrooms from the ground, its stem breaking easily, as though it had simply been floating. With that, Maya strolled out of the forest, lo longer feeling small.

She exited the woods, placing herself in front of the heavy, green-flaked doors of the school. She held the mushroom gingerly, triumphantly, to show the school children she had done what none of them had dared to mess with. Yet, after minutes passed and no one had left the school, and the sun sunk lower into the sky, she determined she must have just missed them before she had come strolling out of the forest. Dejectedly, she began heading home, squishing the mushroom angrily in her hand, the juices dripping down her knuckle. 

Maya took note when she walked through her front door that her parents hadn’t yet arrived home, and with nothing else to do, as she had skipped most of her school work in place of the dare, prepared her pasta before heading to her room.

It wasn’t that big, just enough for a bed, a nightstand, and a closet. A large window sat above the headboard, and a row of books was perched on the windowsill. Balancing her bowl on her lap, Maya plucked a book decorated with a dusty red cover, then abruptly turned and set the book on her leg. One handedly, she began to peel open the pages of the old book, and with the other she shoved a forkful of pasta into her mouth.

“Hello, child.”

Maya’s fork fell from her hand and bounced on the sheet of the bed, and she glanced at where the voice had come from to see herself staring into the eyes of a faerie. Their skin was the colour and texture of tree bark, moss and fungi growing from it as of that were truly what it was. Maya supposed it might be. Their hair was long, caught up in large, deer-like antlers that protruded grotesquely from their head. 

“Ah,” they smirked as they spoke again, sharp teeth poking out from behind their lips. Pink, translucent wings, set up like those of a damselfly, hung from their back, fluttering lightly as they moved. Their eyes were pure, golden yellow, unhuman-like and missing anything reminiscent of a pupil. “I believe you invited me here.”

Despite a faerie sitting on her bed, Maya failed to summon any tact, “I don’t believe I did any such thing,” the girl replied defiantly. 

“On the contrary,” the fae spoke, showing off their teeth as an intimidation tactic, “you stepped into my faerie ring, a willing invite to take you to my Court, then steal my mushrooms, furthermore eating the food of the Fae, and you dare to say you didn’t invite me here?”

“I didn’t--oh.” Maya stopped, interrupting herself. She had never washed her hands of the liquidated mushroom before preparing dinner. She assumed that was the reason she could see this Fae, as otherwise she wouldn’t see through its glamour.

“Yes, child. Do you know who I am?” The faerie looked into Maya’s eyes. Their eyes were mesmerizing, the girl felt as though she might be drowning in honey simply by looking into their depths. Maya stayed silent, instead just shaking her head, hoping to not cause any sort of disrespect.

“I am the Monarch of the Unseelie Court,” the Fae spoke slowly, each word deliberate, “and you have treated me with the most blatant disrespect.”

Oh. Oh no. Maya had heard of the Unseelie Court, she had read about it in old faerie tales, and in recent years it had become popular in fantasy series. But this, in short, was not good. “I apologize sincerely,” the girl spoke quickly, now fearful.

“Of course you do. Well, child--”

“Please! I’m sorry, don’t take me from here!”

“I’m glad to see you don’t want to leave your new home.”

“My new--what?”

“You’re in Faerieland, darling. It’s a shame you didn’t see through my glamour sooner. You might still have been able to leave.”

As the faerie spoke, the world began to dissolve around Maya.