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Blaek Rod was one of the oddest boys in all of Reston Green. He wasn’t odd of a bad sort, but he was always sneaking away from work, school, and home to look for Faeries.
His mother was always worrying about him, off on his own and dreaming of magical creatures. He didn’t play with the other boys, preferring to read alone, and refused to go on hunting trips with his brother.
Blaek was a pretty boy, with fair skin and big, green eyes. His inky black hair and elegant nose and cheeks made him look so much like his mother that some mistook him for a little girl. His hands were soft and clever, and very good at sewing buttons.
The boys in Reston Green, usually led by an older boy named Garret Rapschel, made fun of Blaek and his fantasy stories. They even fell to beating him once or twice. Blaek never fought back, choosing to go to his favorite spot in the forest. A huge oak tree had been struck by lightening ages ago, and someone had cut it down, leaving a stump the size of a kitchen table. He went there when he needed to clear his mind before a big decision.
One day, when Blaek was 10, his mother had a guest of great importance visit them. The guest was the headmaster of a school far from Reston Green. The man was old and cantankerous, and spoke with an odd accent.
“Yong Blaek would be a perfect addition to our school,” he said.
Blaek, standing in the hallway, became very fearful for his future. Going to a foreign school meant less freedom than he had now, and no familiar wood or trees. The only thing he could do, he thought, was to run away.
He waited until everyone in Reston Green was asleep and dropped out of his window, carrying a change of clothes and some food for a journey, and ran into the woods, crying quietly.
He made it to the tree trunk table and sat on one of the white river rocks he used as a seat. He buried his face in his hands and sobbed for what seemed to him for an hour before a quiet voice made him look up. “Why are you crying?”
A man with big doe eyes was looking at him gently. His skin was a deep tan that only many summers outside could give, and his hair was white blonde. Those gentle eyes of his were a bright violet and ages old. They didn’t match the youth of the young man’s face. But Blaek was unafraid as he answered.
“A mean man wants to take me from my home and the forest! I won’t go!” he exclaimed, beginning to cry again. The man held out his arms and Blaek climbed across the table to him.
“There, there, don’t cry, little one,” said the man as he cradled Blaek in his arms. His deep tenor was soothing to the distraught child, and he soon was calm again.
He looked up and thanked the man, and was rewarded with a smile. “You see? Feeling much better now, aren’t you?” asked the man as he pulled a flask from his journey bag and took a long draught before offering it to Bleak. The boy gave it an apprehensive look before taking the wooden flask and sipping at it.
“It’s only honeysuckle nectar and red wine with Belladonna,” said the man, laughing at the surprised look on the boy’s face. But what shocked Blaek so much was that he was suddenly so tired.
As his eyelids grew heavy and his breathing deepened, the man lifted Blaek and arranged him on the table, forfeiting his cloak for the child’s blanket. “All will be better when you wake, Young Blaek. And when you wake, go home. They will have missed you.”
.::.
The soft twittering of birds and a hand on his shoulder awoke the sleeping boy. He looked around slowly, feeling strangely stiff. He stretched and sat up. “You slept for longer than I imagined you would.”
The man with old eyes sat at one of the stone seats, searching through his ever present bag. “Sir?” asked Blaek, a bit confused. The man gave Blaek a tunic, breeches, stockings, and a pair of fine leather boots.
“Put these on, Blaek, there’s a good lad,” the man said. Blaek looked at the clothes and shook his head. “
They won’t fit, sir,” he said. The man chuckled. “We shall see. Now, put them on.”
Blaek did as he was told and was surprised to see that they fit perfectly. His body had stretched out while he slept. “How long did I sleep, sir?” he asked the man.
“Nigh on .. 7 years. You have been asleep for 7 years,” said the man, helping Blaek to his feet.
“Truly, I slept that long?”
The man nodded. “You did. Perhaps it was too much Belladonna,” he said, mostly to himself, as he led Blaek through the woods quickly and quietly.
They were soon back at the tree line. The man gave Blaek a mostly full food bag and a full purse. “Never say Sudeth didn’t take care of his own.”
“Sudeth?” asked Blaek quietly, gazing down at the village of Reston Green.
“Yes, Blaek?”
“W-What do I say to them?” asked the boy, still very much a child inside. “What do I do when I see them?”
Sudeth smiled. “Go home, find your family, and tell them a fine story. I would very much hate to be discovered, Blaek, and I trust you will keep our secret safe. If you do, I promise to visit you at least once a week,” he said, giving Blaek a farewell hug before turning away and darting into the woods like a young deer, with inhuman grace. It was then that Blaek realized that Sudeth was one of the Fae. He waved until Sudeth was out of sight, and then he started home.
As he walked through town, he received strange looks from the townsfolk. Children clamored around him, and people waved at him in a familiar way. One young man stopped him in the street and shook him warmly by the hand. “Blaek Rod, it has been years. You surely can’t have forgotten old Garret?”
Blaek smiled. “Oh, Garret Rapschel! How have you been?” he asked as they continued down Main Street. They stopped at a store where a few people waved and called out ‘Hullo’s.
“I married Shara Inglesed and have a wee lass of my own. Listen, we have to catch up soon,” he said, disappearing into his shop.
Blaek continued on, feeling encouraged by the greetings he was getting. At last, he came to his front gate, and he stopped. Taking a deep breath, he flipped the latch up and pushed it open. “Mother? Price?” he called, looking around.
A familiar clamor met his ears as the family dog, Cuma, ran out to greet him. The dog was a fiery old thing and hated strangers, but he remembered Blaek began to slobber on his face when the boy bent down to pet him. “Cuma, you old beast, get back inside and leave the visitors alone. I apologize, sir, if he b-“
His mother’s voice trailed off as she came out the door and saw him, bent down, petting the untamable beast. “Blaek? Is that you?” she asked quietly, gripping the edges of her apron tightly.
Tears welled up in Blaek’s eyes and he stood up quickly. “Yes, Mother, it’s me. I’m sorry I was gone so long,” he said, scrubbing the tears away from his face with the back of his hand.
A momentary silence lasted until Cuma whined for attention. Then Mara Rod threw her arms around her son, sobbing into his shirt. Blaek was surprised to see that he was taller than her and the figure that came to the door, a tiny boy in tow.
“Little Brother, is that you?” asked the deep, booming voice of his older brother, Price. Blaek laughed and let his brother envelope him in a hug as well. The little boy hung back.
“Well, Price, who is this little one?” he asked bending down to the child’s level.
Price grinned and patted the child on the head. “This is my oldest, Wicker. He’s almost 3. He’s your nephew,” he said proudly, pushing Wicker forward.
Blaek smiled and pinched the little boy’s cheek gently. “How do you do, Wicker? I’m your uncle, Blaek,” he said, scooping the child up in his arms. The boy had his nana’s big green eyes and nimble fingers, but had pale hair like his mother, apparently.
“It is good to be home, Mother,” said Blaek happily, throwing an arm around Mara and kissing her cheek. “I missed you all so much while I was away.”
“Just where did you go, Little Brother?” asked Price curiously, eyeing the full purse on his brother’s belt.
Blaek grinned and shrugged. “I’ve been traveling mostly, doing odd jobs where I could. I just couldn’t go to that horrible school. I ran away that night and haven’t spent more than a week in the same place since. I’ve finally decided to come home, though, and I’m sorry if I worried you,” he said, honoring his promise to keep Sudeth’s secret.
His mother led the way into the house. “Well, it doesn’t matter anymore. You’re home and I am going to throw a great party tonight for your homecoming,” she said happily.
Price and Blaek shared a look. It was just the same as when they were kids. Everything they accomplished brought on a party. This one promised to be wonderful.
And it was.
Everyone in the town came, bringing food and drinks and kids. It was one of the largest gatherings Reston Green had seen in a long time. Everyone was invited.
There was one guest who wasn’t invited, that only Blaek saw, standing by himself near the tree line and drinking from a familiar wooden flask.
‘I’ll see you soon, my friend.’
A quick wave and he was gone. Blaek smiled. He’d met the Fae and was truly glad of his luck to be home, unscathed. But to say unchanged would be dishonorable. And that was something Blaek Rod would never be accused of . . .
 SavingPollyOliver · Sun Nov 30, 2008 @ 07:38pm · 0 Comments |
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