The Fae Child's Forbidden Home

Deep in the outskirts of modern-day Počitelj, across the still grey waters of the loch, lay a quiet hamlet nestled between the great, snow-encrusted rolling hills and vast forests. In the winter months, fog rolled in from the slightly rippling waters and hung thickly in the air while the frosty grasp of glass-like verglas crystalized the tips of the needles on Firs and Spruces.

On a freezing winter night, while the snow cascaded in large flakes from the sky, a sprout of deadly Belladonna peaked its head through the snow at the tree line of the woods. Its pea-sized black berries grew and ripened before the sun touched the horizon.

On that same night, a child appeared from the frost on the doorstep of Old Nan. Some believed the child was of fae or unicorn origin because of the curious nature of her birth. Others whispered that she was the child of the tall Pines themselves.  

“Nan? What are those things? The tall shadows with needles at the tips?” asked Cybil as she placed the tips of her delicate fingers on the thin pane of glass and tapped it methodically.

The old woman with silvery hair stepped from the kitchen, still wiping the blood from her now stained hands. “Cybil, those are called trees and together, they make the woods.” Her expression hardened. “Do you remember the rules? What do I always tell you?”

“Not to go into them,” Cybil sighed as she placed her fist under her chin. “But Nan, I think I’m old enough to go out and explore.” She pleaded as she brushed a pearly strand of hair from her forehead. Her periwinkle eyes glittering with hope.

Nan slowly drew Cybil away from the window. “You have seen many winters pass Cybil, I will admit that but, I can’t risk you going into those woods.” She said as she took Cybil’s hand and led her to the slab of pine wood that functioned for a table. Sap occasionally dripped from its core, forming a sticky pool on the dirt floor.

Cybil sat skins of various animals both large and small were neatly laid on the ground. Across from her, Nan continued to gut and skin the rabbit she had ensnared. The sounds of squelching and ripping filled the silence.

“Nan?” Cybil asked slowly as she picked at the frayed ends of the delicate butterfly wing dress she wore. The vibrancy of their purples and golds had faded into muddy brown and black. “Would you let me go just a few steps out of the door? It feels as if it has been forever since I last felt the sun.”

Nan wiped her face with the back of her hand. A thin smear of red was streaked on her forehead and cheek. She set the rusty cleaver down onto the table and stared into the fire that raged in the fireplace behind her. A few puffs of black smoke occasionally wound their way into the open air, polluting the stuffy atmosphere.

“Promise me you will stay where I can see you. Do you remember where the Belladonna lives? Do not stray past there,” Nan said wearily as she smiled, the lines of age becoming more prominent.

Cybil sprung up from the floor in excitement, wisps of butterfly wing and iridescent pigment scattered in all directions. “Thank you, Nan,” she cried as she threw her arms around the old woman’s bend frame. “I won’t be long, I promise.”

The outside air was crisp and biting, a slight wind stirred the snowbanks near the other homes. Thick stems of black smoke rose from the chimneys and mingled with the pure environment.

Cybil stepped onto the thick blanket of snow that covered the ground. She spread her arms with exaltation and let frozen droplets of water vapor escape her lips.

She took another step forward and then another until she was at the edge of Nan’s property marked by a rickety, moss-covered wooden fence.  Cybil guiltily looked back towards the house as her curiosity drew her to a small, leafy plant at the edge of the forest.

The species of flora was uncommon in the area, tiny ripe black berries clustered together under the oblong leaves. Nan’s words of warning echoed in the back of Cybil’s mind, ‘do not stray past where the Belladonna lives.’

Cybil eyed the obsidian berries greedily as they were plump and ripe for harvest. One won’t hurt, she thought as she knelt next to the plant and plucked a berry from a clump. It exploded in her mouth as her pearly white teeth crushed it into pulp, the sweet juice excited her taste buds. She smiled and picked another from the cluster.

She ate each berry from the plant until she was full and satisfied, her lips and fingers stained black from the juice.

She looked into the distance; ears perked up as she heard the faintest sound coming from the heart of the woods. It was the softest whisper, like melting droplets of once frozen verglas landing on snow.

My child, come, come into the woods. Here, there are more juicy delights than you can imagine. Come and join us, fae child.

Cybil stood and, without hesitation or remembrance of Nan’s warnings, stepped past the tree line. The Pines were tall enough to block out the rays of sun from winding their way down to the ground.  

Piles of snow mounded against the bases of the trees, creating an uneven, surreal landscape. Cybil continued to follow the voices towards the heart of the woods. They beckoned and lured her with treats and sweet delights if she came closer.

After a few moments, the voices had grown from whispers to screams. Cybil fell to the snow in fright as the tree limbs began to weave together, forming a firm barrier around her. As soon as they had started, the screeching voices ceased.

Cybil removed her hands from her ears as she looked up. Snowflakes fell from the tops of the trees and landed in her pearly, thistle-like hair.

“Dear girl, you came,” whispered a delicate feminine voice from behind Cybil.

She spun around and eyed a large barren pine tree. Its limbs were broken and skeletal, the green needles were nonexistent. A young woman with long, white hair cascading down her chest, stood at the base of the tree, arms outstretched.

“Who are you?” Cybil said, her vision becoming blurry.

“My name is Vila. I knew you would come, dear child.” The woman said, her eyes bright with excitement and fulfillment.

“Why are you here? In the forest?” Cybil asked as she took a step forward, her curiosity grew stronger.

“I live here, this tree,” the woman said as she placed her hand onto the trunk of the old pine. “Is my home. You, dear beauty, are my daughter. My pearly haired Belladonna.”

“What are you?” Cybil asked as she took a step nearer, despite her confusion. Nan is my mother.

 “I am the spirit of these woods and its creatures. The old witch Nan tried to keep you from your true home here with us.” Vila whispered as she gestured to the forest surrounding them. The snowflakes continued to blanket the ground.

“Nan is a witch?” Cybil asked with astonishment. “I don’t understand. If she is a witch, and you are a woods lady then, what am I?”

Vila chuckled slightly. “Cybil, you are descendant of fae, pine, and unicorn. You are the trees and the creatures that inhabit them. You are the spirit of the woods as well.”