Seamus slides back into the booth, again carrying two tankards of ale, but this time pushed one in front of Patrick before taking a long drink from his own. The magically infused bar brawl, since apparently magic existed, had only lasted for about ten minutes. The whole time was spent with different colored bolts of energy flying about to varied effects, from burning and smashing to making the targeted area grow flowers. Several figures which had previously looked to be mundane humans wearing English football jersey changed into several different common or not so common creatures. Patrick was still attempting to come to grips with his newfound reality, but if you aren't willing to admit you're crazy, a middle-aged football fan with a pot belly turning into a unicorn and mule kicking one of what he had previously assumed were just short, stout, bearded men, but now has to assume are some form of dwarf, really doesn't leave any room to argue. Now he had accepted his new reality, he found it time to fill in the obviously glaring gaps in his knowledge.
The brawl had also been enough time for things to change for Seamus, as he now sported the beginning of a black eye, a bloody lip, and when he went to take a drink, Patrick could see he was now missing a tooth as well. Despite the injuries, Seamus seemed in a good mood, and was grinning to himself as he slung his bear fur coat back on, and slipped what looked like a small purse into one of the pockets.
"Nothing like a good brawl to get the blood flowing and the fingers dancing. Can't say no to a workout where you don't have to stop drinking and if you are lucky, you can rustle up enough coin to drink all week." Seamus let out a contented sigh as he emptied half his tankard before putting it down. He reached into his pocket, and pulled out what looked like a slightly tarnished gold coin.
"Now I know you probably have a lot of questions, seeing as you obviously were raised as a native human somehow. I'm not a big fan of anyone that doesn't drink, children especially, so I've never really dealt with foundlings before, but anyone I could recommend to help you out would have even odds of truly helping or trying to eat ya if you turned out the wrong type of Fae." Seamus continued to rub the golden coin as he spoke. It became shinier and shinier, until it almost seemed to possess an internal glow. As he paused from speaking, he pinched the glowing golden coin and shoved it into his mouth, right into the gap left by the tooth he had lost in the bar brawl minutes ago. As he pulled his fingers out of his mouth, Patrick could see the gap had now been filled, but what had been a glowing golden coin roughly the size of a quarter had become perfectly shaped tooth rooted firmly within Seamus' mouth. He ran his tongue back and forth over the new addition several times, and Patrick was witness as with every pass of his tongue, the golden color of the tooth faded until it matched the off white porcelain color of the original teeth.
"And I would feel upset if I went through the trouble to drag your ass along with me when I hopped a portal out of an abyssal fire sale just to let you get eaten for being stupid. So first lesson, I am one of the most outstanding and charismatic of Fae, known as a Leprechaun. We are beings of luck, and gold. As you just saw an example of, we are our gold, and our gold is ourselves. We are also one of the species that don't have a habit of eating sentient beings, specifically or generally, which is why I said you are safer if I helped show you the ropes." Seamus leaned back, the grin only leaving his face for the time it took to drink from his tankard, clearly enjoying the shock on Patrick's face following his coin trick and revelations.
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"So there are many different types of Fae? You called me a foundling, is that what I am? Why don't I know anything about this?" Patrick asked his first question. Finding his throat a little dry after finally speaking, he picked up the surprisingly heavy tankard of ale and took a sip. The taste was rich, malty with a hint of honey and berries, but the alcohol hit him with a kick, leaving him trying to cover a cough after he managed to swallow.
Seamus snorted at his attempts at drinking. "Nah lad, a foundling is a term for a Fae child that grows up in the native human world without their Fae parents. Depending on their luck they are either raised by humans like you have, or they grow by themselves in the wild. Can happen to most races of Fae, sometimes the parents are killed while out traveling leaving the child stranded. Other times Fae sleep with native humans and the child awakens their ancestry on his own. Some are simply abandoned or sent out intentionally, although those are more typically the monstrous varieties of Fae, or beings like changelings that intentionally seek to infiltrate native human families."
"What are you saying, that my mother slept with a mythological being without realizing it? And you still haven't told me what kind of Fae I am." Patrick managed a second sip without difficulty, and realized he was beginning to enjoy the ale. It certainly took the edge off having to discuss his hypocritical bible thumping mother knocking uglies with a dwarf, elf, or any of the animal shifting beings he had witnessed take part in the bar fight.
"I don't know what you are yet. But I do know you aren't a halfbreed for the same reason that whoever raised you is not your birth mother. You are a full Fae. Or at least you should be. You smell more human than a pure Fae, but too full of magic to possibly be a halfie, especially since you obviously haven't awakened yet, or you'd surely have noticed. If anything you almost have a scent of the abyss, but paradoxically almost pure, more incense than sulfur…." Seamus trailed off towards the end, beginning to mumble to himself. He looked up with Patrick cleared his throat.
"Right. So long story short, I'm not sure what type of Fae you are. There are so many similar races, until you awaken your heritage it will be difficult to tell. Mostly I can tell what you aren't. Many Fae possess specific defining features, all of which you lack. Whether through the inherent nature of your race, or adapting to fit your surroundings, you possess the features of a native human. If you are interested I can give you an encyclopedia I carry, help familiarize yourself with different major categories of beings and some of the more famous figures." As he spoke, Seamus was making a show of looking through the pockets of his bear fur coat. Either he was playing up for effect, or his pockets were a lot more spacious than his coat could possibly have space for, which Patrick just realized may actually be true now that magic was a part of his reality. Finally Seamus pulled out a somewhat battered looking hardcover book, covered in green cloth, bursting with tabs sticking out the side, and handed it across the table to Patrick.
"But don't most Fae look like regular human? I mean I've never seen any magical beings around before, and most of the people in here look normal, when they aren't turning into animals of course. And why do you keep calling them 'native humans'?" Patrick queried as he accepted the book from Seamus, running his fingers across the golden embossed title Encyclopedia Mysteria.
"Most Fae can look like humans, but that’s more for convenience sake, and sometimes takes practice depending on the species. Dwarves and Leprechauns for example look like average humans all the time, if of atypical height. Some, like the Selkie and Unicorn you saw fighting earlier can take a human form if they wish, or fulfill certain conditions. Others are able to use a glamour to affect what humans see to simply appear human, while retaining their true form, but those types usually don't get out too often." Seamus took another sip to wet his throat before continuing. "As for calling them 'native humans' that’s to distinguish them from the humans of other realms, of course."