Secrets of the Fae

7

It took only a few moments of concentration for the answer to come to me. So simple, and yet, terribly dangerous, and completely taboo within the Fae community, or at least it was in my memory from decades long past. I walked back inside, she was sitting up, eyes downcast but finally open. Her face was hidden from me, but that wasn't important just now. I walked slowly to the bed and sat at the end. Very slowly and carefully, I let my wings unfurl and released them in full from my skin. My wings were a gray or silver color depending on the light and time of year. They were longer than the average fairy's and the span was that of my height. With my wings exposed completely to my charge I waited. After a moment of nothing I began to speak, slowly, clearly, and with straight honesty.

“Sadie,” I spoke quietly, hoping not to startle her again, “you may not understand this but I have a theory about Fae wings. I believe they are linked directly to our souls. And since touching another’s wings is an unspoken taboo, I believe that touching another’s wings will give you access to their soul, letting you know the person on a level that would make any of Mother’s creatures uncomfortable. With this belief in mind, I bare my soul to you, and hope that you will know me and trust me to be your healer and protector.”

I waited, keeping my body still and my breaths even. I vaguely remembered asking the ancient Fae who could hide his colors more about it. His explanation left this belief imprinted in my mind, though I knew I could never really test it. He told me that Fae wings are extremely sensitive. That his elders believed that the wings were linked to the mind or even the soul. Touching another’s wings was taboo in Fae culture in part because of this belief and in part because it had been taboo for so long that not even the long-lived Fae could remember why. It was simply not done, not talked about, not pondered upon. To purposely bare your wings to another Fae was considered the utmost display of trust, and even then you did not touch them. My theories and beliefs ran in these circles, that they were a direct extension to our souls, tied into Mother’s desire to have a truthful race among her children. A Fae cannot lie, but that does not stop us fooling other races or even each other, much to Mother’s chagrin I am certain. Regardless, I offered my wings in the hope that Fae culture still saw the deliberate bearing of wings as the highest honor and value of respect.

I sat motionless, waiting patiently for her to move or indicate that she had heard me. I stayed silent and concentrated on the bed, feeling for movements. I could tell when she softened, could feel her breath as she let it out and let her body relax slowly into a less coiled position. I felt as she shifted her weight, and caught her cries of pain in her throat. I could picture her in my mind’s eye, reaching slowly out to me as though to touch my shoulder and let me know I could face her once again. I heard her hesitation, her want to trust, and her inability to truly do so. Perhaps I should have given her more time, let her see me heal others as I helped to heal her. Let her come to trust me in smaller ways before asking her to trust in me completely.

Contact. My mind exploded with sensations, my own of pleasure and ecstasy so powerful it hurt and then hers of bewilderment, fear, a pulsing ache for hope, and underneath and around it all pain. Emotional pain, physical pain, spiritual pain. Everything I felt of her was tainted with it. I felt heavy and light at once, overwhelmed and whole, in the briefest instant the world was perfect, though laced with injustice.

Then the world was black, cold, empty, I fell off the bed and the pain of the fall jogged my mind to realize that the black empty cold was the world I had lived in for my entire life. I had not realized how it was until the moment of connection with Sadie had passed. I began to weep, mourning the loss of such a deep and complete connection. I fell again to the floor, too weak to do anything but cry silently. It took me quite some time to gather myself. It took even longer to fully process what had happened. The sensation of my soul, connected to Sadie's, was nothing I could have imagined. I disliked yet craved the openness of it. I knew that in that moment of connection I could hear and feel her soul. She could hear and feel mine. I felt that she knew everything about me. Knew my thoughts, intentions, hopes, desires, pains, and dreams. Every positive and negative part of my being had been available to her in that brief moment.

She knew the truth now, even better than I knew it myself. She had whatever answer she had sought, and I could only hope it was enough to gain her trust, enough to help her heal. Though her touch had not been my original intention, and though the effect was more than I could have imagined, I hoped it was simply enough. As exposed as that contact had made us both, I wondered if the connection had felt as complete for her as it had for me. With only vague speculations on what touch of another would entail, a two-way connection had never been one of them.