I took a deep breath as I walked along the river. It felt so nice to feel the wind and know it was coming from my home. The trees here didn’t smell any different from trees anywhere else, but that didn’t stop me from feeling an immense sense of fulfillment as I took a deep breath next to the treeline. Maybe the trees here smelled the same as everywhere else, but they felt different. At least to me, they did.
I found myself watching the water as I walked. It was so clear I could count the stones at the bottom when the fish weren’t in the way. Just looking at it almost made me thirsty. Last time I’d been to the fae realm, I went to a bar with drunk fairies and listened to people talk. But this… this was how the fae realm was meant to exist. This was how fairies were meant to live. Being outside, feeling the air, the smells, the sights from the world around me… I felt at home.
It wasn’t long before I saw the break in the trees. I laughed to myself as my eyes followed the wide, clearly marked path. Someday, I would show Serriah around here and see her reaction. For now, I followed the trail through the trees.
It was very early in the afternoon when I entered the forest. The sun was high in the sky, and its warmth felt like it physically touched my skin. That disappeared quickly, however. The witches didn’t have any traps per se, but they did have ruses that they used to try to steer people away. The foliage on the trees near their home was thicker, blocking sunlight. It looked like it was always twilight amongst this part of the trees. I’d grown used to that long ago, however.
This was the realm of the fae. Nothing on the outside looked suspicious; our entire species’ existence was built on appearing sweet and harmless despite danger and deception just beyond the surface. This place was no different. It didn’t look like the lair of a bunch of witches. From the outside, it looked too small to hold more than a bed or two and maybe a couch. The cottage was warmly lit through the curtains, and the whole structure looked inviting like you were welcome for tea anytime. I smiled to myself, entertained by the knowledge of how deceptive this particular facade was.
I knocked on the door and felt a shift in the air. I heard a rustling inside the house, and the door opened slowly. Dark brown stringy hair peeped through the crack, followed by large brown eyes. I smiled at her as if that would actually have an impact on her perception of me. I watched the wide eyes grow larger as she recognized me and turned away. I heard whispering as she informed the other witches who she found knocking on their door, and silence followed as they probably took a second to muse about why. Finally, however, the door opened fully to reveal a youthful witch with a mass of blonde curls, light eyes, and sharp, almost threatening features.
“Kalian.”
I bowed. “Lore.”
“Why are you here?”
“I was hoping to speak to you all and request some information if you’ll humor me long enough.”
Her expression was suspicious, but she stepped aside, gesturing for me to enter. I stepped inside, and it was like walking into a different world. The warm, simple cottage truly suited the phrase ‘lair’ from the inside. It was three times as wide as it appeared. While much of both fae and witch architecture and design was heavily based on using nature around them, they presented in very different ways. This home looked distinctly fae from the outside, but once inside, it was obvious this place housed witches. The plants lining the walls were ones the fae considered dangerous, the air was stiff, the bark they used for their furniture not only came from trees that didn’t grow here, but it was knotted and uneven in a way that a fae carpenter would spit at.
Everything seemed naturally sharp. There was a large table in the center of the room with just enough chairs around it to seat the witches with no room for guests. The table looked as though instead of being built intentionally, someone had just ripped a cracked slab of bark from a dead tree and stuck legs on it, so the edges of the table were all jagged. The chairs looked more intentional, but even then, it looked as though you could cut yourself on the edges of the wood. Three large bookcases stood against the walls, each practically overflowing with books. At the end of the room, there was a large stone fireplace. Every other inch of the walls was covered in shelves with jars, pots, bowls, and cups, each one filled with a different type of item. My eyes lingered, as they always did when I used to visit, on a white cup with a lid that had a label on it reading ‘Seelie Hair.’ The sheer thought of someone cutting off a lock of hair from someone like me wasn’t what caught my eye, but rather what it could be used for. When I was younger, I feared this place and the aspects of it that seemed evil to me. Now, however, I knew it was nothing to be afraid of.
These women almost looked afraid of me, but mostly, they seemed confused. Anytime I’d paid them a visit before, they always seemed aware before I arrived of what I needed from them, whether it was at the request of Minerva or a personal matter. Perhaps living in a different realm was giving me more of an advantage than I’d considered because, for the first time, my visit seemed to catch them off-guard.
There were seven witches in total. The one whose face
