And It Begins

Al

The breeze stilled when the figure disappeared, and I sat there in a trance. My mind in a black pit of nothing, no feelings, no thoughts.

"Dinner is ready."

Grandmother. I turn slow to face her still sitting on the porch where he left me.

He. It all hit me at once. I was in a dream then awoke when a soft hand touched my face. The eyes that stared at me, gold. Not a faint gold but a bold gold that startled me. And the face that the eyes belonged to made my heart flip. Beautiful was not a good explanation of his face, it was not even close to the profound edge of his jawline. And the thorough curve of his lips like a crescent moon, the full chin, resting on a thick neck. Skin like coco drops tinged with an illuminated light. It smelled of fresh peppermint bark, cinnamon and… cheery blossoms. His hair auburn; so long and straight. I never saw a man's hair so long before. I've also never felt my heart beat as it did when I kept looking at him and when he kept looking at me.

"Your home awaits you."

I wish I could've felt some other way, for my heart had just been broken and I shouldn't want for another yet, my heart longed to stay where I was. Not just where I was but, exactly as I was. Which was wrapped in his arms, with his full attention on me and nothing else.

"Who are you? I asked, I only wanted to stall and stay in his arms forever. Why I wanted to, I have no idea.

"I am but a male."

Oh, he sure had a smart mouth. So not 'man' but 'male', like there was anything different from the two. The smile he gave me was breath takingly handsome, I don't believe I was breathing.

My uncontrollable emotions didn't pass though I started to grow a kind of fiery annoyance to his response.

"Not what but who, as in what is your name" I tried to say without emotion. It was harder than I thought. He didn't oblige me with an answer but scooped me up and carried me with such prestige I began to wonder how strong he was. Our eyes never left each other's while it seemed like we glided through the forest on a mist to my home. How did he know where my home was? How could he take me without looking away? Who is this… male? The answers to my questions did not get answered as he carefully gave my weight to the porch and turned to go. My heart lurched into a panic; like I was drowning. I couldn't let him leave… without knowing his name. all I needed was a name, something I could cling to and keep forever.

"Al… I'm called Al" I exclaimed. Why do I need to know his name? Why do I long for him so? His presence felt like a key to my soul, the master key, the one and only. He kept walking away. But as he vanished, the wind picked up as if carrying a message.

"Rhen." The wind said, and my heart fluttered while my mind left me for a moment.

Now I remember, all that occurred. I must have looked like I was in some sort of trance because grandmother was looking at me intently as if searching for the problem and about to eradicate it. She has a precision for telling a lie from a truth, a foe from an ally, and sometimes an outcome in most situations. I couldn't decide if I wanted to tell her what occurred or keep it to myself, but keeping anything to myself always ended in a confrontation with her. Before she asked I told her everything that happened, though not how I felt. After several eternities of waiting for her response…

"Go bathe yourself, then we will speak".

"Yes grandmother" was all I said. I am in for it now.

As I walked past her, through the threshold I could smell rosemary. Grandmothers favorite scent; it calmed her, this was going to be a rough night.

There was a small window in my room that was covered by grassland green curtains, a mahogany shelf in the corner next to the wardrobe, and a canopy bed that could be big enough for a grown stallion. My powder room was the same size of my wardrobe with colors of the sun. I lowered myself into the already filling tub, and as if knowing my desire, the soap that appeared before me smelled of raw peppermint; and I immediately willed it away. After a very tedious scrubbing the tub looked as if it had mud in it instead of water, as I stood my clothes were brought to me by no one in particular, and I let myself be dressed in a fine ominia with whirls of… cheery blossoms. These things need to stay out of my mind or the house will pick up on everything I did not tell grandmother. Our cottage was not like most, it would be called witchcraft in the towns but; this home could sustain itself without need for beings of any sort. It was enchanted or at least that's my assumption. Grandmother will not tell me of it much. She is a woman of few words, and only says what is necessary but she is my only family, the only one I have now anyway. Some say she can't possibly be my grandmother, not because she looks to old but merely because they say she looks to young. I am a spitting image of her; same nose, eyes a sapphire blue that make most obsessive to see, however her eyes have a silver lining around the blue. But pure silver curly hair stretched tight in a gorgeous domatic braid angled off her shoulders that are broad like boulders. She is a disastrously intoxicating woman to behold. Grandmother looks like she is about to meet her forty-fifth moon, and I'm the only one that knows she passed that moon centuries ago. She had not told me how many moons she was, she made me guess. I didn't know how the answer was brought to me, I just wanted to know her moons and I did.

Ominia: ceremonial robe for blood of the pure royals during the Fae Eemali

Domatic: tribal style of the Ancient Fae