The fire crackles as Mary and Gerald ate a second helping of the soup. I remembered Mary refusing a gift and a story came to mind. One of a foolish decision I had made so long ago.
‘Long ago, there were Fae beings that walked this earth. This is a tale of their treachery.’
A man tilled endlessly trying to get the ground to give him the food he needed to sustain his life. However the rains hadn’t come in such a long time the dirt was beginning to get hard. Still the man practically broke his back trying to do anything to make his next winter livable. He had sold his beast of burden for he could not afford to feed the creature.
One day a beautiful man and woman came to him. They spoke to him with kind and gentle words. However they answered no questions our poor farmer asked and he began to assume that they were rich or noble. They promised that in a week's time there would be rain, and asked for nothing in return. The farmer was too hopeful to remember the commandments of the gods who spoke of never receiving a gift without returning one in kind.
He worked twice as hard to prepare for the rain by planting and using rage nearly dry well in town to haul buckets of water to splash upon his dirt. True to the strange beautiful people, rain did come. All the townspeople were relieved their well would have some chance to refill, their own suffering crops would survive. Soon though the people grew worried for it rained for five days, truly soaking the earth. As it let up though the pair of people who had predicted the weather returned.
They spoke in unison, “We have brought the rain and saved your people. Yet you offer nothing in return. We will take away the rains unless you raise a child we will bring to you in the fall. You shall take care of her till her twelfth birthday. You will teach her of hard work, of toiling, in return the lands here will get the rain they require.” With that they disappeared in the haze of the sun.
The man was too busy with his daily life. From repairing his home to tending his crops. He started clearing more land to add to what he could grow from. He spent some grain to buy chickens to clear the fields of bugs and pests. Built their coop and bought their feed. Watched for foxes and set traps.
In the middle of the harvest the woman came, a crying babe in his arms. Wordlessly she forced the child into his arms and left. The farmer called after her, tried to go back on the deal however nothing made her turn and she disappeared soon.
Having never raised a baby he took it to town. Speaking with every woman who had bore a child for what he could do alone. So he spent several days learning. The women swooned at the baby’s bright emerald eyes and tawny brown hair. They said his cries were even melodic and not as harsh as they had heard from their own children. As they taught him the finer points of changing a cloth diaper he discovered the child was a young baby boy. Someone sold him a goat and kid so that he would have ready access to milk for the child. It took the last of his excess grain, a worry about winter already set in his bones.
True to the strange couple's words the rain was regular and often enough to help the whole town. Crops grew plentiful and the tithe of food for the duke would be met with ease. Many began to see the child as an omen of blessed years. Our farmer wore the boy upon his chest as he worked to clear wood and stump. He would wake in the early dawn light with the chickens and gather milk, boil it over a stove as the women had told him and skimmed the things that rose to the top.
Soon a deep love began to grow in the farmer. The boy he could never have otherwise had was in his life. The farmer named the child Eric. Great joy filled him when the child would laugh at the silly faces and play they had together. He would sleep cradling the boy in his arms after singing him a lullaby. The years seemed to slip by and soon the boy was walking and babbling nonsense. The harvests had been grand and the farmer managed to increase his plot of land he had been graced with. The boy began to talk and call the farmer his father. The love grew for the child as he learned the ways of the farm. The boy was honest to a fault and spoke his mind truthfully. He would follow rules so rigorous that he caused no trouble. Eric worked and earned his keep with the garden of rarer vegetables. In the days they didn’t work on the farm, which were rare, the farmer taught the Eric the way of the woods based on his own lessons so long ago.
Eric soon was seven years of age. He was taught the way to build a home and tasked with building a new pen for the growing family of goats. The farm grew and the town prospered. Eric showed much affection towards everyone but especially his adoptive father.
Eric was in need of an apprenticeship for the winter. To learn as much as he could was important for his long term life. The farmer forgot about the deal struck so many years ago. Too many great memories have become more important. Eric learned like a sponge soaks up water.
One night twelve years later a sound came through the house and the farmer was upon his feet in a moment. Eric was missing, as he searched he found his livestock had been slaughtered, his food taken away, and as he searched frantically for Eric his home caught fire. The farmer lost everything in one night. He ran to town and called for help, but it was too late. The townsfolk went about collecting the dead animals to help process them. The farmer wept, not for his belongings but for Eric. The oldest woman, an ancient hermit came to him.
“Where did the boy come from? All these years I suspected nothing of your story but I must know.” Her voice cracked with the authority of a family matron.
The farmer told her of the beautiful couple that had graced the village with rain. That the child was brought to him and he was told to raise him. The farmer cried at the cruelty.
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
“You angered the Fae with your prosperity. You gained from the child in your life and that wasn’t part of the deal. You took a gift in exchange for nothing in return and angered the gods. Fool!”
“Please,” begged the farmer, “I must have Eric back. I care not for any other thing but I love that boy with all my heart.”
“Go deep into the forest until you are completely lost, then on the night of the full moons follow their light no matter where it leads you. If you’re lucky you will be in the Fae realm. Pray to the gods, the Fae are tricksters at best, and vile backstabbers at worst.”
“I shall give you most of the food the town is preparing as thanks. Is there anything else I must know?”
The ancient woman shook her head and hobbled off to the town. The farmer stayed long enough to have smoked and dried meats to keep him alive and traded the rest of the processed foods to the townsfolk in exchange for leathers, a sling, and gear to travel. Then he set out into the woods.
It took him weeks to lose himself, his many years of training now working against him. Though the night of the full moons was upon him. They shined blue and silver and he followed them as they danced across the sky. There were more twists and turn and soon he could no longer think. Then as the moons set he was filled with despair, fear gripped the farmer. Then he looked around, the woods were different, more vibrant and beautiful.
He kept quiet as he stalked the woods. Deer with antlers of crystal are quietly in groves bathed in pink sunlight. Rabbits quick as lightning darted through the brush. Strange butterflies sprinkled dust behind their wakes.
Days passed in this foreign world. A third moon rose each night and it was always full. He trusted no plants or roots for how could he know if they were safe. They he stumbled upon a great tilled field.
Eric stood in the center with a dozen other children. Each bore a silver collar upon their necks. The farmer ran to Eric and hugged the boy. However, Eric lay limp in his arms not returning the affection.
“Eric, we must hurry and leave this place.” The farmer kept his voice a hush in the field.
Eric did not respond.
A clapping filled the air and the farmer whipped around protectively pushing Eric behind his back. The couple stood there before the field.
“Please, you must let me have Eric back. I beg you to know the grace of the gods.”
“No, we gave blessings to receive him and he will toil his life in our fields until he dies. You taught him well, as did all the other parents we tasked with the same. They will supply us with comforts for the rest of their lives.”
As stealthily as he could the farmer drew the sling behind his back and loaded an iron ball. “Free him or else!” He threatened.
“Would you betray your deal?”
“I did not know I would love him. No one could account for that. I’m sure the parents of the others would not know why their children have been taken.”
“I think it’s time we fertilize the fields with your corpse.” The man was a blur but the farmer whipped the ball at the unsuspecting woman. It caved her skull in.
The man called out in agony and froze for a moment. The farmer was upon him and clamped hands around the man’s throat. The man was waifish and fast but the hard earned strength of the farmer was overpowering.
“How do I return these children to our realm?” Pressed the farmer.
“The same way you got here,” choked out the man. “But they cannot leave. We have bound them with magic.”
“Free them…” the farmer pressed harder as the man’s face turned deep red. “Or I’ll end you.”
The man closed his eyes and the clinking of chains sounded through the field and the children began to cry in confusion. The farmer relaxed his grip. As he stood he expected the man to have to recover. The farmer was wrong. In a flash of movement he started towards Eric. The farmer was not quick enough to stop him and the Fae had Eric by the throat twisting it to near breaking.
The farmer fell to his knees and froze.
“You vile farmer. I’ll kill him!” Before he twisted that final bit the farmer called out.
“I will work your fields! Let them go and I’ll work your fields.” The farmer pleaded the man would take the deal. “As long as I’m alive I’ll work. Let the children go, let me tell them how to get home.”
The Fae man paused, “You swear no harm to me or another denizen of this realm? Swear upon your gods!”
“I swear upon the gods, I will not harm anyone here.”
The man shoved Eric away who rushed to the farmer and hugged him.
“Guide the others deep into the woods till you're lost. Then in a night where all the moons are full follow them. In the morning you’ll be back in our realm. Please, guide the others and get everyone home safe.”
“What about you father?” Whispered Eric.
“As long as you live free it’ll be worth it. Now take my sling and leathers. You’ll need them to survive the forest.”
The farmer stripped off his gear and handed it to Eric. It still had a few days food left inside it. “I love you Eric. Do not come back for me. I swore upon the gods.”
“I love you too, father.”
They never saw one another again.
Mary had silent tears running down her cheeks as she hugged her father. The man looked at me and nodded in thanks. It was an important lesson to learn. Soon the two were asleep in each other's arms and I lay down and stared into the crackling fire.
I had found Eric’s great grandchildren, after I outlived the Fae man. They said Eric lived a happy life and was a great father and grandfather. That he was a hero who guided children back home. That the Duke had given him enough money to start anew in return for the safety of everyone.