Fairy Lights

Diarmad slowly stalked towards the blue and white fairy lights that shone like diamonds in the dark of the night, deep in the woods.

He had no business being there in the first place. He was meant to be in his bed, asleep, but his bruised ego wouldn’t allow the fifteen year old to find rest.

His brothers said he had been imagining things. Mistaken fireflies as the auras of fairies. They’d ribbed him, called him delusional. Bhaltair, the second eldest at nineteen had said he’d taken a trip to nirvana after jerking himself off. Diarmad cursed under his breath. He would never live down the one time Bhal had caught him masturbating.

The eldest, twenty-one year old Alastair, had called him a liar, going as far as striking him when he wouldn’t shut up about it. He was stirring trouble, Al had shouted angrily, waving his fist in Diarmad’s face.

Diar lightly touched the cut on his cheekbone with a hiss. It hurt but in a few days it would be completely healed. The red bruising had already turned black and blue. One of the perks of being a wolf shifter.

A groaning sound filled the air and Diar stilled.

Who was that? He wondered, looking around the dense woods, trying to see in the night. The sound filled the night air again and Diar looked down with a tired sigh.

It was his stomach. He was hungry.

After Al had hit him, Diar had taken off, running into the forest just as the sun had began to disappear under the tree line. He should have stayed for supper. Or carried a snack. Or gone back. But angry indignation had fueled him, so here he was, walking around in the pitch dark of the night, following fairy lights to catch himself a fae.

Diar bumped his foot on a tree stump and cursed, jumping up and down on his good one. As much as he appreciated the quick healing, he wished he had the other shifter abilities-- the one he required now being of night vision-- but he had to wait three more years before that happened.

He envied his brother Cailean. At seventeen, he was just a few months shy of his eighteenth birthday.

The day he would access all his shifter abilities.

The day he would first shift into a wolf.

The day he would finally join the rank of respected warriors and get out of the junior crew.

Diar envied him. He envied all his brothers. As the fourth son, no one expected much from him. Sometimes he wondered if that was why they named him what they had.

His name, Diarmad, meant free man.

A rumbling angry growl rolled off his chest. He hated how everyone overlooked him. How unimportant the pack found him. How unnecessary the pack Alpha saw him. Dolaidh, ruler of all and his father.

But, if he could prove that the faes had broken the law and had left their own realm and entered theirs, then maybe he would finally gain some importance.

Determined, he went on with his quest, the hilt of his sword tightly held in his hand, his bow and quiver at his back and his daggers in his belt and boots, ready for anything.

As he drew closer to the light, a soft sound floated towards him.

It was melodic, gentle and warming.

It calmed him at the same time lured him, begging him to find the source.

His feet moved faster under him, not as careful for the sound of breaking twigs and crushing underbrush mingled with the siren’s call.

Suddenly the singing stopped.

Diar’s feet came to an abrupt halt. His heart beating loud and hard in his chest.

He squinted his eyes, trying to see the glowing lights clearer. The auras had stopped moving in the air. They hang frozen in place.

He’d given himself away.

A flood of desperation filled him, urging his feet to move.

He ran, a burn starting in his chest at how hard he pushed himself, the fear of losing the source of that sweet siren sparring him on. Bursting into the clearing, sword raised and ready he came to an abrupt stop. His harsh breathing the only sound filling his ears as the forest had gone quiet.

His eyes darted around, coming to a stop on the blue and white orbs that hang in the air. They looked beautiful.

His sword arm lowered as he slowly moved towards them. He raised his free hand palm up, slowly, wanting to cradle one in his hand.

He’d never been able to come this close to one before.

Each time he’d been close enough to spot them, they disappeared in an instant. But his years of training, had paid off this night. He’d stalked his prey and succeed. All that was left, was to find the owner of these beautiful auras.

“What do you want?”

Startled, Diar span on his heel, his sword arm coming up fast, ready to defend or attack.

Then, he saw her.

Diar felt like he was choking, his breath stuck in his chest.

How could anything be so beautiful?

He’d heard the stories of how beautiful the faes were, seen the drawings made by enamored men in the past, when fae had walked freely in their world... before they began their destruction. But this one was... she was mesmerizing.

Standing almost as tall as he did, her gown moved like it was dancing in the cool night breeze. Her hair, white as snow, and yet as see through as the rest of her, swayed in the same tune to the whistle of the moving air like it was caught up in a Spring breeze and not the Autumn chill. Her skin looked like ivory, polished with bees wax to make it glow like a priceless treasure. Even the tall grass couldn’t hide her legs and feet, toes glowing like crystals in the underbrush.

“What do you want?”

Diar’s eyes quickly shot up and he almost gasped when he caught sight of her crystal blue eyes sitting above a pert nose, and it above ruby red lips.

She was hypnotic, for his mind went blank the moment he laid eyes on her. There were no words that could hold the full weight to describe her beauty. He now understood how easily and quickly men fell under the faes’ feet in the past. Why they were banished from their realm.

“This isn’t the first time you’ve hunted me.” she stated.

He winced. Hunted? That word didn’t feel right, now that he’d seen the object of his pursuit. But... she knew he was after her. She knew this wasn’t the first time either.

Had she been watching him? Tracking his every move as he had done hers? He'd been out here more nights than he could count. Had she been watching him every single time?

The thought of that, for some reason, made him giddy.

Her eyes narrowed and the blues of her eyes seemed to glow brighter.

Beautiful

“Do you hunt me, to kill me?” She demanded, anger in her voice.

Diar nodded then shook his head no. He was no longer quite sure what he wished to do, but kill her was not it.