Today was heavily influenced by The Moon and the Nightspirit. Like Medieval Babes, they’ve played a key role in how Faerie took form, especially its darker side. With their blend of Hungarian folk music and fairy tales, how could they not bring to mind images of mysterious creatures, faerie rings, and dangerous shadows. Their first album “Of Dreams Forgotten and Fables Untold” is a great introduction. 🙂
“Don’t go too far now,” Lyra says, stopping me with a hand on my shoulder. “We don’t want to get lost.”
“This should be far enough.” I keep my eyes on the surrounding woods. If I look at Lyra and remind myself that she’s there, my nerves will act up and blow the whole thing. Still, what do I sing?
Lyra’s foot crunches dried leaves and pine needles as it taps. “Well?”
I pick the first song that pops into my head.
London Gent’s “Whisper the Answer.”
It’s the first song of hers I ever heard. There was something about the pure simplicity in her piano accomplishments mixed with her poetic, ornamented, yet real lyrics and her full, almost earthy voice that resonated with something in me almost instantly.
Not that I can really related to the actual lyrics of “Whisper the Answer.” It’s about love, waiting on it’s reciprocation, the vulnerability that comes with that, things I know absolutely nothing about. It’s just a great showcase of her talents.
Judging by the way Lyra claps as I finish, she thinks it’s a pretty good showcase of mine. “Magnificent,” she exclaims, turning me to face her with bright eyes and a giant grin. “I knew you had a voice that I needed, little mouse.” She walks in a circle around me. “Of course, you’ll need a body no match. This certainly won’t do.”
I try not to flinch.
“I’ll fashion you a glamour and change it over a few weeks so no one thinks your changing is anything strange. We’ll thin you out obviously, and tame that hair. Not too much. We can use those curls, but we don’t need as much as you have.”
I try to block out her words, but they leak into my mind and twist my soul.
“And your skin, do you want to go darker or lighter? This mild middle shade is far too dull.”
Somehow she gives shape to every insecurity I’ve ever had. They take the shape of glass orbs, shattering on the ground, and cutting me with the shrapnel.
Where the hell is Oliver?
“If we go dark, you’ll be quite exotic, especially in Faerie. If we lighten you up, though, we could–”
“That is enough,” Oliver growls, emerging seemingly from nowhere, startling both me and Lyra. His fists shake at his side as he takes a few slow steps forward. “I had wanted to deal with this calmer, but you’ve gone and put yourself on thin ice.”
Lyra sneers at him and folds her arms. “Well, now I know how my little mouse found her way back to me. Who are you to silence me? The girl sought me out.”
“I am Oliver O’Brian Draiota Dofeith.” The way he accents the last two names makes them sound older than the woods we stand it. “And I’m here to stop you from feeding off any more human children. This is the only warning you get. Cease now, honor the laws established by Queen Titania and the Faeire Court and you’ll go free.”
“I thought I recognized you, changeling,” Lyra giggles. “You think that name scares me? Do you think your mother scares me? I answer to a greater authority now.”
Wait, Oliver’s mother? Queen Titania? That’s got to be wrong. That would make Oliver a prince or something, right? Abandoned or not, faerie princes don’t go to human high school. They don’t work in used book stores and they definitely don’t drive around in old beat up Beetles.
Oliver’s eyes narrow into slits as he brushes his vest back to reveal his dagger. “Care to tell me what that authority is?”
“No.” With a giggle and a dark grin on her face, Lyra unfolds her arms and draws a blade of her own from the sash around her waist. “But I’m dying to see if you’ll try and find out.”