Faetouched

Wight Manor in Glen ne Geas had been home to the clan of Cailein since the first age. Its cliff-top location, secret passages, battlements, barbican and towers had kept it safe from a thousand sieges, but for Aileas, it was little more than a playground. Though she had no siblings, she played with the children of the clan's guard, relishing the long daylight hours by frolicking about the manor in efforts to avoid her father's watchful eye.

If the leader of the clan would catch Aileas in the midst of any strenuous activity, he'd send her sulking back to the library, to waste another overcast afternoon studying, or to practice at one of the many indoor pastimes supposedly more appropriate for her status. Apparently running and climbing were not suited for one so vulnerable.

He'd regaled the tale of her infancy on multiple occasions - how she'd suffered with the same illness that had taken her mother just a few days after her birth. That, he decided, was the source of her frailty, but Aileas did not embody the helplessness her father claimed she'd been afflicted with. Rather, she was a spirited child, who adored every opportunity to explore her grand home, and entertain the company of her friends.

On the eve of the eleventh anniversary of her birth, Wight Manor was paid a visit by the bishop, Father Reid, and Aileas' father had asked she keep to her chambers, so not to interfere in their discussions. Not one for doing what she was told, and with a little encouragement from the steward's son, the children planned to scale around the outside of the keep to the edge of the cliff, looking for a falcon's nest. The three others who'd tagged along went across first, easily creeping along the narrow outcrop and around to the north wall. Aileas followed their path a little more cautiously, taking her time as the long drop at her back to the forest below called her name, and the wind rushed through her russet hair.

She passed beneath a window overlooking the landscape, one that had been cracked open, and inside she overheard a familiar voice, that of her father's.

"... So, I suppose the date of the ritual is upon us?"

"It is the time when the signs of a faetouched first begin showing themselves." The bishop replied from further in the room. Aileas couldn't quite decide exactly what they were talking about.

"She's still so young. And she's all I have left of Eimhir." Aileas' senses sharpened at mention of her mother's name.

"Yes my lord, but remember the Seelie Court will not delay to send the celly vichtys to retrieve her. If we are to save her soul, we must deliver her now to God."

Her father didn't answer for a while, apparently walking up to the window to sigh, and compelling the child to duck out of sight. "When will it be done?"

"Dawn tomorrow, my lord."

"And... How will it be done?"

"There is only one sure way to purge her soul of those foul sprites. My apprentices have brought consecrated olive wood from the holy land, for the pyre."

A pyre? What for? Aileas wondered, pressing herself further against the stone to further strain her ear. The children ahead of her wound their heads around the corner of the wall, wondering what could be delaying her from joining them. She held her finger to her lip and pointed up at the window. They knew immediately what she meant, with two of them edging back along the wall to listen in as well.

"... I think it would be best she doesn't know." The bishop continued.

"I understand. At least give me the rest of the day with her. For the moment, she's still a daughter of the clan."

On hearing her father's footsteps, Aileas thought to put her day's plans on hold and hurry back to her chambers. In the usual fashion she'd adopted to get back to her room before him, she scaled the outer wall and climbed in through the window, with a few minutes to spare before her father would arrive. It gave her a moment to make it look like she had been in her room all day, reading.

He knocked before entering, not saying much but inviting Aileas for an afternoon ride on the moor, like they did every year on her birthday. She asked why then instead of the following day, yet he neglected to answer, instead redirecting the conversation towards dinner plans.

And so she sat ahead of him upon his grey stallion as she'd always done, still framed as but a child against his mighty frame. He held her close, more secure than usual, though kept his gaze forever pinned ahead.

When they returned, a banquet awaited them. All Aileas' favourite dishes with no limits upon how many desserts she could have. She could have sworn they'd planned to eat the feast the following night, and while she gladly helped herself, she looked between the servers, studying their apparently saddened expressions for any indication of an explanation.

The bishop joined them at the table, engaged in a more generic conversation with her father. Aileas remained ignorant to their previous discussion, yet decided not to bring it up, for fear she'd overheard some sort of surprise they'd planned. Perhaps they were having a fire as part of the celebration? And what did faetouched mean anyway?

As her father tucked her into bed later that night, she thought to ask him indirectly. "Father, what will we be doing tomorrow?"

His eye met hers briefly, and she noted how his lip quivered. "The same as we do every year, lass."

"But you and Father Reid, are you planning anything special?"

He distanced himself from her and went to leave. "It's late, go to sleep now."

She leant up to see him over her covers. "Goodnight, dad." Then she lay back down, drowsy from a full stomach.

He hesitated as he picked up the candle from the table beside the door. "Goodnight, Aileas." Leaving with the candle in hand, her room fell into pitch darkness, and she shut her eyes tightly.

***

Aileas was woken by a shuffling sound behind her door. She inched her eyes open to see a faint light underneath, with the shadows of feet interrupting it. Her heart racing, she hid under her covers, holding her breath as the door creaked open, and someone tiptoed into the room. She felt their presence close to her, praying they wouldn't see her frame beneath the sheets.

They whispered; it was a soft, kind voice, reminiscent of her mother's. "Aileas Cailein?"

The child drew the covers down her face so she may meet the gaze of her visitor. They looked to be a woman, with dark hair, a slender, pale face and pointed ears, dressed in strange robes.

"Who are you?" Aileas asked, nervously.

"My name is Diana, I'm here to rescue you."

"Rescue?" She sat up. "But I'm not in any danger."

"I'm afraid you are. Come with me." The woman held out her hand - her palm oddly smooth and clean, clearly ignorant to the toils of daily life.

Aileas crept out of bed, and though uncertain, her thoughts echoed with the bishop's words from earlier that day. She took her hand, following on as she cautiously led her out of the room, with only the light from a strange, floating orb for guidance.

Along the halls down to the bailey, they walked by a number of guards apparently sleeping - slumped against the wall. Aileas kept close to the woman, entranced by the aroma of perfume that drifted from her. They carried on to the gatehouse, passing by more guardsmen.

"Everyone's sleeping..." Aileas worried.

"They're fine. Each is lost in their favourite dream, and will wake when the sun rises."

"My father too?"

"Yes."

Satisfied that they were each comfortable, she followed the woman out through the gatehouse and across the drawbridge, where a large horse stood waiting for them. Aileas was taken aback upon seeing it, curious of its ethereal appearance. The furls of its mane rolled like waves upon the shore, its eyes faintly glowing red, and its hide shimmering like the moonlit surface of a lake.

"Don't be afraid. Talus won't harm you." The woman muttered, slipping her arms under Aileas's and lifting her onto the stallion's back. She climbed up behind her and ushered the creature on towards the moors.

"Where are we going?"

"I'm here to take you home, child."

"Home? But Glen ne Geas is my home, at Wight Manor..."

The woman's tone saddened. "Perhaps it was, once. I'm afraid you're no longer welcome there."

Aileas wasn't sure what to say, feeling her eyes well up at the thought of leaving her father and friends behind. "So... Where's home then?"

"A long way from here, though there is a gateway in the mountains. That is where the others will meet us."

Others? She worried who those others may be.

The sky lightened to a pale blue as dawn approached. By then, they had crossed the moors and headed up the slopes of Beinn Draioch. The woman wrapped Aileas up in her robes to keep her warm. In her company, she experienced a comfort she had not known for many years, yet there remained so much she wished to ask her.

They arrived upon a set of standing stones, looming before a clearing in the trees where a pool bubbled up from the mountainside. The woman dismounted from her steed, then carried Aileas off his back and down to rest her bare feet on the damp grass. She expected to see others waiting there as Diana had said, but instead of people, there were lights dancing over the water.

"This gateway will take you to the Hallowed Vale, where the Seelie Court awaits you."

"The Seelie Court?" Aileas recalled the bishop mentioning such a thing.

She gazed sorrowfully at her. "You came into this world so weak and frail. You shouldn't have survived, as was the fate of your mother..." The corners of Diana's mouth lifted into a smile, though the sparkle of her eyes remained. "My husband, the Ghillie Dhu, High King of the Seelie Court, saved you that day by granting you the soul of a Seelie. From that day on, you became a Seelie yourself."

Aileas remembered reading about such things in her books, though her father had dismissed them as superstition. "Father says there's no such thing as Seelie."

She frowned. "Your father renounced the ways of the old faith and took to observing a new god. He had been swayed through fear, and led to judge your Seelie gifts as a mark of darkness, one that he sought to purge you of through fire."

"No..." Aileas stuttered, a chill washing over her. "He wouldn't... He..." Tears rolled off her cheeks.

"I'm sorry this truth brings you such pain, but now that you are of the age when your powers are set to manifest, your new family is ready to accept you. Join us of the Seelie Court." She took a few steps into the water, and the stallion trotted on ahead of her, disappearing into the depths. Holding her arm out, she invited the child to join her. In the rising light, Aileas saw the shimmer of her skin and the jewelled hues of her eyes more clearly.

Aileas feared drowning in the waters, yet Diana did not retract her hand. She shut her eyes, recalling her father's and the bishop's entire conversation in her head. If she had remained at the manor, they meant to condemn her to the pyre, purely confident in her faetouched status. She still didn't know what it all meant exactly, nor what would await her in the pond... Nevertheless, she took the woman's hand, and waded in with her.

When the water came to her waist, Diana stopped, turning to face her. She looked up, compelling the child to do the same. The lights spiralled over their heads, drifting down and around them. In such closeness, Aileas saw their wings... And she was drawn below the surface.