Faerie Field

Before the stars, there was nothing but dusk. And then there were the pinpricks of light, smiling down at us through the bedroom window.

“You can’t just keep her in there, you know.” My little sister stopped fawning over the glowing glass jar and looked up at me, pouting with her big, shining eyes.

“Why not?” Amelia asked me. “She’s so pretty, Delia… I wanna keep her forever!”

I gave her a small laugh, loving every minute of her essence, but I knew it couldn’t be. The creature wasn’t something to be kept, but I had a feeling Amelia already knew that.

“She won’t last,” I said. “It’s mean to lock her up like that, and I bet she doesn’t like it.”

Amelia didn’t say anything in return, ignoring me to stare once again at the source of the jar’s soft, warm glow.

That night, we caught a faerie.

It was a wondrous experience, running through the tall grasses together, soaking up the light from the stars and the moon. No one could ever have felt as free as we did that soft evening. Our parents had no idea we’d left the house, but we weren’t that far away. The Field was right behind the house and the two of us knew the entire plain like the backs of our hands. We were friends with everyone out there, anyways, but Mother and Father could never know that.

We dashed away from the house once we were sure they were both fast asleep, giggling as we eased the screen door shut as quietly as we could. We were so excited to see everyone that night, and I tripped over the bottom stair trying to get off the porch. Amelia had helped me up patiently, trying her hardest to stifle another giggle as we launched back into a run for the Field.

The tall, flowing grasses brushed our legs, whispering in the wind while we sprinted towards the willow grove in the center of it all. Thick, grateful boughs swept the ground, reaching down to kiss the pasture. It was magnificent, as always, but tonight was special. It was the eve of the autumnal equinox, and that meant celebration.

And then there were the lights, rising from the bases of the willows and clumps of swaying grass, merging with the starlight and mingling in the shine of the moon. I found it amazing we had been invited at all, since we were only humans, but I didn’t dare to question their intentions. I watched as they flew up in swirling, golden patterns to greet us as if we were one of their own. Of course, we practically were, but we couldn’t tell anyone, not even our parents. If anyone found out that we could See, Amelia and I would be sent away from home, away from each other, and away from the faeries and the other joyful creatures of the night.

So we kept it a secret. Amelia was surprisingly good at it, but I suppose that’s because she knew the stakes. Still, for a girl her age, I was amazed by how well she could hide our Sight. If anything, I was the less trustworthy sibling. Secrets had never been my strong suit, and I never expected them to be, but if it was what had to be done to keep Amelia from being sent to the camps, it was something I was wholeheartedly willing to do.

As the faeries rose from the grass around us, something caught my eye in the distance. A golden light, brighter than the creatures surrounding us, dashed down from the trees across the Field. Amelia saw it too and caught my eye, and we made our way over without a word.

What if the poor thing was hurt? Nobody else around could See, at least not that we knew of. Even if they could, there wasn’t another person for miles around who would be willing to help. Too many were scared of the night creatures after the last attack from the Field, but none of them would dare hurt us. At least, none of the ones here would. They had practically raised us, all those nights alone amongst the stars. We were like kin to them.

By the time we’d reached the spot where the light had fallen, the stars had shifted around us. Cassiopeia now sat at the top of the sky, gleaming down at us beside the half moon. It was almost like I could hear them singing to me from their homes in the heavens, but I knew it wasn’t just for me. It was for Amelia, too. For our parents, even if they didn’t deserve it. For the rest of the sleeping world, whether they could hear it or not.

And then we saw her, collapsed beneath the far willow tree, feebly pulsing warm yellow light around her like a beacon. Yes, she was definitely hurt, but there was something else about her. She wasn’t like the other faeries, waif-like in their pale gold glows. She was much more opaque, her features more highly defined. The light emanating from her being was brighter and shinier, although it certainly looked like it had dimmed since her fall.

Before I could even think to greet the strange faerie, Amelia had taken a small glass jar from the large pocket of her nightgown and lowered it to the base of the tree. When the faerie didn’t respond, she took her small hand and gently scooped the glowing creature into the jar and capped it.

I was too in awe of the situation to protest that we couldn’t take her, that we shouldn’t take her, but we were back in our room with the door shut before I had gathered my wits.