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Taking His Hand - A Short Story

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I'm a young author taking a break in the world of writing. I have experience writing short stories, books, poetry, and reviews.

Taking His Hand

The sky glittered with stars and the bright full moon shone down over the forest. A house stood alone amongst the trees with a pond close by. Within that house was a boy with his head out the window. His hands grasped the bottom frame and his teeth grit against the cold wind blowing at him.

Every night once the moon rose and the moths awoke, he would stand at his window and listen to the whispers of the forest. A glimpse of flashing lights would appear every few minutes or when he wasn’t paying extra attention. He would be captivated by the movement of the trees, the croaking of the frogs, the fish poking through the water, the lights…

A flash of light zipped by his head and into his room. Startled, he whipped around to follow its trail, only to find a figure watching him.

“Hello,” this figure said. His skin was dark and his hair was a deep green. Faded blue cloth-covered him and gold armor covered his shoulders and chest.

A random person being in the boy’s house was creepy enough, however, this wasn’t a person. His ears were pointed sharp and his eyes were solid green. Scars ran up his arms and rings adorned his fingers.

This wasn’t the boy’s first encounter with the fae. He lived in this house his whole life, even when his mother passed and long since his father disappeared. As a child, he had spotted many fae. A few tried to take advantage while a few had their interests piqued and allowed him to approach. It’s been quiet for many years since then, yet he would always return to the window the same.

“What is your name?” The fae asked with a growing smile, showing some pearly white and sharp teeth.

The boy pushed himself away from the window and took a step closer. “I will not give you my name. I know better than that.”

He always knew not to give one’s name to the fae. None of his childhood “friends” knew his name and he would not share it now.

“Alright,” the fae took a step closer. With the small room that they were in, the two were only a few more steps apart.

“Why are you here? I haven’t come across the fae in years, much less in my own home.”

Another step. “Yes, much has changed since you were a child. No longer does the pitter-patter of your steps echo from the logs you ran across. No longer does the laughter of a child ring through the air even on the coldest nights only for the voices of your parents to follow, calling you home.”

“I’ve grown.”

“And yet you wait here, gazing between the trees. It’s as if you are waiting for something, or someone. You’ve lost touch with the magic here, but instead of seeking it out you wallow from your room.”

The fae extended his hand with fingers longer than the average human’s. His nails were long and pointed, tiny daggers reaching from his hand.

“I won’t make a deal with the fae, I have nothing to give.” The boy took a step back, increasing the space between them.

“This isn’t a deal. Come back into the forest, come back to the magic you’ve grown from and feel it once again. The trails are barren and the forestry cries from the fumes of your car. You go to work and come back, go to work and come back… the life is draining from you. Return.”

“You say return as if I weren’t born here. If I were to go with you, would I come back?”

“I won’t make any promises,” The fae reached his hand out even further, prompting the boy to take it.

The space between them got smaller as both took another step. Such a small space was left in between.

“But why?” The boy asked.

“You’ll drain the forest if you yourself keep draining. I can’t say what will happen to you, me, or this land if you refuse. Return and be fulfilled.”

The boy shifted his weight, arms crossing over his chest. It seemed to have gotten a lot colder, the wind howling and making the curtains fly. Wooden floors creaked with their movements.

It was risky to go with the fae, even the ones you think you know. However, the calling of the forest screamed at the boy and no longer can he ignore it. Finally, he stopped shifting, uncrossed his arms, and took the final step between them. One of his own hands fell into the one the fae reached out.

Long fingers curled around his seemingly small hand. The fae nodded in approval. “You made a good choice, our child.” He leaned in and pressed his lips against the boy’s forehead, giving a small kiss as a mother gives to a child. The floorboards creaked with the sudden release of weight as they both vanished.


© 2021 EL Doll

Comments

John Hansen from Gondwana Land on June 26, 2021:

What a great story. Yes, unfortunately as we grow older we often forfeit the wonders we enjoyed as children. Sometimes it has to come back to find us. An enjoyable read, EL.

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