Faerie [fair-y]

Appearance: Humanoid with wings

Power: Medium

Habitat: Throughout the entirety of the Fardian Woods

Faeries are one of the many subsets of fae and come in many forms, sizes, and temperaments. Although they differ in many ways, all faeries share flawless skin, black eyes, and wings. Faeries are able to wield magic, casting light spells, but they are unable to lie. However, they are extremely adept at misleading others with the truth. Therefore, it can be hard to determine a faerie's true intentions.

* * *

I knew about faeries; almost every child who had grown up near the Woods did. Nearly every family had a "faerie tale" of their very own, a story passed down from generations that typically started something like, "Your great-great-great grandfather encountered a beautiful faerie on the western edge of the woods back when he was just a young boy..."

Yet despite their relative commonness, I had never seen a faerie in real life. I looked at Athia, huddled in her cage, and appraised her carefully. She was thin faerie with skin as pale as the Elder's. Her hair was jet-black and fell in stringy clumps past her cheeks. And her grey wings were crumpled behind her back, weak from lack of use and bent as if broken. I could see feathers lining the bottom of her cage; their frayed edges reminded me of old worn paper.

She hadn't seen us yet. Her eyes were screwed shut as if in pain and her breathing was harsh and ragged. It echoed throughout the inner chamber of the mountain, bouncing off the stone walls and filling the air with a strange crackle.

I looked over at Nathan and Lira, both of whom were looking at me expectantly.

All right, I thought. I guess I'll break the silence.

I cleared my throat and Athia immediately flinched as if someone had punched her. Her head snapped up, hair whipping around her head like a spray of sea water as she whipped her head in my direction. Her eyes widened and I saw that the entire orb was dark. There was no delineation between pupil, iris, or sclera. Everything was black.

She reached out to touch the bars of her cage, determined to pull herself up to face us, but as soon as her spindly fingers wrapped around the metal, she let out an anguished cry and dropped her hand. I immediately knew why: she had touched iron, the bane of several magical creatures.

"Are you the ones?" she finally asked, cradling her twitching hand. Her voice was hoarse but hopeful. "Are you the ones that Lysander sent?"

I took a step forward. "We were sent by an Elder, but he never mentioned his name."

She looked confused for a moment, but then she nodded her head vigorously. "Yes, the Elder. That was Lysander. And so you have the jars?"

I took off my backpack and pulled out the first jar my fingers touch. It was Lira's, the jar that contained the magical flower.

Athia smiled, her eyes welling with tears. "Thank you. Thank you so much. Please, bring it to me."

Lira took a step beside me and took the jar from my hand. However, she did not walk to the cage right away. She looked over at Nathan, who still held his bow, and said, "Cover me."

Nathan nodded, notching an arrow and aiming it at the cage.

The faerie didn't seem fazed that Nathan was aiming his bow at her. Her eyes were locked on the jar as Lira stepped towards her.

"Slip it through the bars," Athia said and Lira nodded, carefully passing it to her.

The faerie took the jar in both hands and for a moment she simply marveled at the sight of the moving plant inside. As she admired the flower, I noticed a scrap of black fabric tied around her wrist. It reminded me of the mourning bands people wore in our village whenever someone close had passed away. I wondered if she had lost someone recently. Or perhaps she had lost someone a long time ago and had been imprisoned in this cage for centuries, trapped in an endless state of mourning.

Finally, with shaking hands, Athia began to open the jar. It took some effort, but after a moment of struggling, the lid twisted open.

For a moment nothing happened. But after a few seconds, the plant inside the jar seemed to sense freedom and began to grow, a long vine escaping the confines of the jar. It swirled upwards for a moment, as if tasting the air, and then latched onto Athia's left arm.

She gasped for a moment—and Lira did as well—as the vine began to winding around the faerie's arm. It tightened, squeezing her flesh, and for a moment the faerie cried out in pain.

Lira reached through the bars of the cage, wanting to help, when there was a flash of green light.

I shut my eyes in pain, waiting for the bright afterimage to fade. When I reopened them, I saw Athia still standing in the middle of her cage. However, the vine had vanished. All that was left was an empty jar in her hands.

She looked at Lira, who was staring at the empty jar in shock. And then Athia smiled. "Please," she said, "step back."

Lira did as she was told, scurrying back to join Nathan and I. Nathan had lowered his bow and stared at the faerie with as much shock as I.

Athia held out her right hand, arm extended, palm facedown. She closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in through her nose, and then drew her hand into a fist. The ground rumbled as she did so, the mountain itself shaking from deep within. A moment later, the rocky ground erupted as thick vines burst through the ground. They spiraled to the top of the cage, wrapping their way around the iron bars until the entire cage looked as if it had been made of vines instead of metal.

Then, with a triumphant grin, she threw her hand down. On her command, the vines fell down, pulling at the bars with a sickening sound. She was free.

I stared at her in wide-eyed shock as she stepped over the twisted metal. The vines quickly receded back into the earth, having completed their job, and she took a step to join us.

"Thank you," she said, placing a hand on Lira's arm. Her black eyes were locked on the passage out of the mountain. "Now let's move."

I had expected more from this faerie—an explanation perhaps—but she seemed eager to escape the mountain and I didn't blame her. Together, we navigated our way back through the rough tunnel until we arrived outside.

Athia turned back and faced the mountain, a sudden look of disgust on her face. "Stand back," she said, and she extended her arm once more. With a sweeping motion, the mountain began to rumble. Rocks avalanched down the sides, the ground shook, and finally vines burst through the earth. In just seconds, the entrance that had been there before was gone, caved in and ensnared with a complicated network of vines and thorns.

"There," she said with a triumphant grin. "Now no one can be trapped in that behemoth again."

I exchanged glances with Lira and Nathan. They were both staring at her in awe. I myself did not exactly know how to feel. For some reason, apprehension was slipping into my blood stream, as potent as ale.

She took a few steps towards the forest now, but paused when she reached the circle of symbols. She frowned, reading the words carved into the dirt, and suddenly turned to face us. "Who was the given the jar of water?"

Nathan stepped forward and raised a hand. "It was I."

She held out a hand. "Give it to me, please."

Nathan slid his bow back behind his back, and gestured for me to pass him my backpack. I did, and he pulled out his jar.

The faerie's eyes lit up as he passed her the container. She opened the lid more quickly this time, and immediately poured the water over her head. This time, there was a flash of blue light—I heard a crash as she dropped the jar and it shattered on the earth—and she inhaled sharply as the power of the water joined with her flesh.

She extended a hand again, this time at the symbols on the ground. With a flick of her wrist, water burst from her fingers, blasting the symbols carved into the dirt and washing them away.

She grinned again as she was able to finally step over the edge of the containment circle. "I'm free," she breathed, inhaling the crisp summer air with a triumphant grin. "I'm free. Thank you. Thank you!"

"You're welcome," Lira said with a smile.

Athia's black eyes swept over the three of us and finally landed on me. "And you, Krista," she said. "You must have the lightning."

I nodded.

She smiled. "Please give me the jar."

But in that moment, I froze. Something was wrong. Something was off about this faerie, but I could not put my finger on it.

Nathan nudged me with his elbow. "Krista," he warned.

My mouth dry, I slipped off my backpack and pulled out the final jar. The lightning crackled in my hands, white, yellow, and purple lights rumbling as if a storm were brewing.

Athia held out her hand but I didn't give her the jar yet.

"Why were you imprisoned?" I asked. "Lysander never said."

She looked surprised by my question, but answered it quickly, glancing into the woods as she did so. "I was a princess, captured after my kingdom was overtaken by rival fae."

I knew that sort of glance. She was lying.

A passage from my field guide tickled my memory. Faeries cannot lie. And yet this one was clearly lying to me.

Then maybe she is not a faerie.

Athia made a sudden move towards me, arm extended for the jar. "Will you give it to me?" she demanded.

I jerked the jar back, cradling it to my chest, and saw something that made my blood turn cold. Her black arm band had shifted from her movement. It had been covering a large black mark on her skin.

Faeries were supposed to be flawless. And marks were a sign of...

"You're a shape shifter!" I shouted, holding the jar tight.

Athia looked shocked by my accusation and then shook her head firmly. "That is ridiculous. Give me the jar."

"Look at her wrist!" I shouted at Lira and Nathan, moving backwards as the faerie advanced.

Lira blinked. "You're right. She is a shape shifter."

Nathan pulled back his bow, prepping an arrow. "Stop it right there. We know what you are. Now leave us alone before I shoot."

Athia turned to glare at Nathan, hissing beneath her breath. "So, you know what I am. That doesn't concern me. As long as I get that final jar!"

She made yet another lunge at me and Nathan let his arrow loose. It looked like it would hit her square in the chest, but then her body did something terrible. One second, she was a thin, pale faerie, and the next she had changed into a grotesque shadow creature, something too horrible to grasp. The arrow missed by inches.

I started running, but Athia followed me, a shadowy monster with jagged edges and knobby legs that defied comprehension.

"Give me the jar, girl," Athia growled.

"No," I said. "You lied to us. You pretend to be a faerie, but you are an imposter."

"You know nothing of our matters," Athia said. "I did what I needed to do to get the jars, and now I need the third. So give it to me before I hurt you or your friends."

"You wouldn't," I said.

The shadow seemed to smirk at me and then twitched one of its many dark limbs. Suddenly, several small vines emerged from the earth, right near the feet of Lira and Nathan. I tried to cry out for them, but it was too late. The vines had wrapped themselves tightly around my friends, suspending them in midair and rendering them helpless.

Athia laughed—if that was what could be called a laugh. It was a dry cackling noise, painful to listen to. "Now I am more powerful than any other shape shifter. You have no chance to defeat me. Give me the jar and you and your friends can live."

I knew the last line was a lie. She was too powerful and we were all liabilities. There was no way she would let us go if I gave her the jar.

So I did the only thing I could. I held out the jar, opened the lid, and let the lightning consume me.