A Leaf's Purpose

[Vaeluthil Whitevale]

It was a rarity when the terrors didn’t wake Vaeluthil up in the middle of the night. Tired as she was in the wake of her defense of Seaside, her subconscious still found it fit to rouse her with a start. Her body ached, nothing unusual for the aftermath of three matches with a fit competitor, but it made old scars twinge, pushing her from bed and down the empty corridors of the Seaside baronial manor. Thanks to her success in the ring, the stone manor by the sea would be hers if only for a little bit longer, entrusted to her care for nigh on a year. They had born witness to the good as well as the bad, the parties and playtime, the fits and the nightmares. Nights where she wandered the halls to shake the lingering chill of her dreams were no strange occurrence. The staff had gone home for the night, leaving only Cael and his ward to the dead of night. Cael still slept though she doubted that would be the case for long once it registered that she had escaped the lavish master suite to take to the halls. They played that game often, seeing how long it took him to not only realize she was gone but also to find her again.

Tonight she would make it none too easy to find her. On most nights she had a tendency to drift to the upper levels of the manor so that she could look out across the sea from the thick windows that held off the brisk air of autumn. No, tonight she was going to brave the elements. The soft unlatching of the back door might have been enough to rouse Cael a level above but she was still gentle in how she closed it behind her. Her bare feet swept through dying grass, wet with dew. Her touch gave it life once more, a trail of green breaking the burgeoning brown that had taken to spreading over the manor’s grounds like a plague. Blades perked in her wake as she traced circles through the yard, drifting around the thick oak trunks that stood sentinel on the edges of the property, a last bastion of hope before the sharp cliff face that dropped off to the ocean below. She came out here often in the spring and summer though hardly at night. Many a thing went bump in the dark and she was terrified of most of them. Add to it the young sidhe’s penchant for sleep walking and such a cliff was a death trap waiting to ensnare her, sending her to a watery grave, the likes of which she would likely never be recovered from.

The view though. That could not be beat. At the hour, the sea was glass, rippled with muted white caps and cut by wavering twin trails of silvery moonlight that a more whimsical part of her thought she could dance upon all the way to the moons themselves. The rhythmic beating of the sea against a jagged shore was muted by the wind that carried it to her ears, sounding quite like the effect made by pressing a conch shell to one's ear. Her feet kicked through fallen leaves, crunching and crinkling in shades of red and orange and gold. Autumn was a time of dying but it was when the colors came alive. They were a last cry in the face of winter imminent, a defiant declaration that they would not go gently without a fight. They were violence and beauty and grief all wrapped into a fall of crisp death only to swept away by a breeze that cared not for their pain. When they were gone the trees mourned their loss with shivering branches and a sleep like death until spring could bring life anew.

Is a leaf’s only purpose to fall?

Aki’s words struck a chord with her, a resonance the likes of which she hadn’t experienced in years. It left her wistful and pensive. She even declined dessert after the challenge, an unheard of act by the sugar fiend. Cael was no stranger to her ever changing moods so he hadn’t pressed. Vaeluthil would talk about it if she wanted to talk about it. It was at the cliff’s edge that he finally found her, standing there with her back to the manor and her hair whipped into a crimson frenzy by a breeze that would have been all too keen on whirling her over the edge. It carried the chill of winter and rippled goosebumps along the exposed arms wrapped around her narrow frame. She wore only an opaque white nightgown, leaving her reminiscent of the banshees of lore, a specter of grief and death in white.

“Little Dove, yer awfully close t’ the edge there.” Cael spoke softly, sure the winds would carry his warning to her. “Are ye alright?”

“Aye.” She confirmed without turning around or stepping back.

“Bad dream?” He gently pried, already knowing the answer.

“Aye, quite.” Her arms tightened around her body, a shiver rattling her bones.

“Want t’ talk about it? Come inside and get warm, Dove. You can tell me about it and then I can tuck ye in again.” His coaxing was meant to draw her away from the edge. Her moods were volatile things, he didn’t need to add cliffs into the mix.

“They made us dance. And dance and dance and dance. And when we could nae anna longer, they locked us away.” She murmured. The next shiver that came wasn’t thanks to the wind but rather the imagery that flashed through her mind. “Cold. The cold is coming again.”

“Aye, tis winter soon.” Cael took a few steps closer to her, his heavier footfalls following the green path she had left behind. Unlike her, he left his mark on crushed blades that stained his soles emerald. She on the other hand had a way of walking that was less of a stride and more of a dance, a light footed thing that meant her feet seldom touched the same spot for long. He was her anchor when she might float away.

Vaeluthil was drifting, a point undeniable.

“It shall not come to Seaside.” There was an edge to her tone, a shift from soft insecurity to decided conviction. Cael paused, his weight on his front foot.

“What do ye mean, mine Vael?” She was only an arm’s length away. He could grab her, haul her close into the safety of his arms, assure her that all would be well. It was a beautiful illusion. Hiding in plain sight seldom was feasible in the long term and after almost a year of public prominence, their time was fast running short.

“Summer shall reign so long as I do. The cold will not come to Seaside.” Vael turned to face the Druid, her mismatched gaze as clear and as cold as the ice that she sought to keep from the district come winter.

“Don’t ye think they’ll take notice?” He opened his arms but didn’t come closer, leaving it to her to come to him. She didn’t, not right away at least.

“How long before they did anyways, Cael?” One step, two step, three diminutive steps took her to him. As she came closer, she tilted her chin to look up at him. There were worry lines in his forehead and it was clear to see that he was tired. Disguising her whereabouts for so long had taken its toll. How much longer could she ask him to pay that price on her behalf? Cael was silent, unable to answer her question. In return he got a wan smile. “They will come as they will. Whether that be ‘pon the morrow or many a moon from now makes no true difference. And until then, Summer shall reign supreme in Seaside.”

[Vaeluthil Whitevale]

“How long has it been, Cressida?” Carrying a conversation while making a balance beam of the Seaside Manor’s outer wall seemed so simple for the fleet footed faerie. A lithe switch kick turned her midair and redirected her path back the opposite direction. Down below, the subject of her question looked up at her with patient amusement.

“Nigh on a year since you staked your claim here. Four since you left Lord Camedyr’s... care. You look as though time has been good to ye, Flower.” Standing amongst the almost bare bones of old proud oaks and shivering hawthorn saplings, though Cressida would have fit in better with willows she still blended beautifully with them. She was wrapped in charcoal and gunmetal grey from throat to toe. The cold pinked her cheeks, offering a splash of color on a canvas of blacks and whites. Brushing the thick silver plait of her hair over her shoulder, she kept her chin lifted and her black eyes on the redhead.

“But a blink! Has it been so long? So ye’ve been followin’ me.” Vael giggled but it carried not the twinkle of mirth that so commonly drenched her words and laughter. Her pacing stopped and she turned on the wall to look down at the fae who had braved the winding path to reach the manor’s edge.

“Nae.” The woman denied, a shake of her head shimmering with a diamond like glimmer. It wasn’t as though Cressida could lie to her but that didn’t mean Vaeluthil believed her. Simply put it meant she hadn’t phrased her question correctly. Still the little baroness’s smile didn’t wane.

“O’ course nae. Silly of me, right?” Bestowing a sympathetic smile upon the sidhe standing below her, Vael didn’t envy the woman’s position. She could tell that Cressida was uncomfortable and truthfully she didn’t blame her. Though Winter was the woman’s domain, the table would be turning soon to give rise to Summer once more. The solstice was only days away. It left Vael anxious and antsy but to Cressida she was the picture of composure. “Surely y’ didnae come all this way just t’ stop by for tea. Why have you come?”

“To beg of thee your return, my lady. The Lord offers a chance anew should ye come.” Unfolding her arms, Cressida wrung her hands together. To some it may have looked as though she were on the verge of truly begging, her concern for the woman on the wall too great to bear. Vaeluthil knew differently. The argent haired fae would be punished severely if she returned without the crown gem of her Lord’s collection. Vael set her hands to her hips, her gaze glacial upon the girl she had once called her friend.

“I will offer ye haven but once, Cressy. Should ye decline, ye’ll return empty handed. Stay with me and I shall protect ye from what may come.” Bending at the knees, she set her hands to the wall’s ledge. The stone was still warm from where she had walked, keeping her bare toes toasty. She lost that when she jumped down, landing in front of the winterfae. Vael straightened and still could not compare to Cressida’s height, a fact she had always envied. Despite their uneven statures, she still seemed to look down upon the other woman before slowly turning one hand palm up toward her in silent offering. Cressida hesitated then glanced over her shoulder. It was all the answer Vaeluthil needed. A frown met the woman when she finally looked back. Black eyes blinked slowly before she gently shook her head.

“I cannae, y’ know that as well as I.” She whispered. No sooner were the words past her lips did Vael’s hand drop to her side. Underfoot, withered brown grass perked, a slow flood of pale green filling the blades and spreading outwards like spilled ink, breathing life back into the earth below.

“Then ye must go.” For all of the warmth that she exuded, there was none in her tone, arctic in its chill.

“But--”

“Go. Now. Should ye return, I’ll kill ye m’self. On my Power I promise you that.” Vael said gravely. Cressida’s eyes shone with tears but it did little to soften the smaller faerie. The winterfae didn’t move, a fact that stoked a growing flame in Vaeluthil’s chest. Heat rippled in a shimmering waves from her bare skin, untouched by the the wintery winds that threatened to steal her warmth. Uncontained as it was, it spread like wildfire, melting budding icicles from the wall’s lip, stirring life into the dead plants around them.

“Flower…” Cressida murmured, taking a few steps back as she was confronted by the heat. Vael pressed forward, bringing with her the burgeoning warmth of summer. It went against the balance of the courts but she cared little. Cressida’s visit threatened to undo all of the progress she had made over the past four years and such a thing could not stand. Not in her adopted home, her district so far from Faerie.

“GO!” The single word screamed at the woman carried with it a rush of heat that echoed through the trees. Cressida turned and ran, as if she could outpace the spread of lush green that sought to overtake her. The further it got from the faerie at its epicenter the more the wave thinned, separating into tendrils that radiated outward from the Seaside Manor until Cressida disappeared from her sight. Even after that point it continued to spread, snaking Summer’s warmth through the district beyond the manor’s walls. There was neither rhyme nor reason to the pattern and where one spot sweltered, the next froze. Vaeluthil didn’t call it back though, content to leave her mark as a veritable Keep Out sign of sorts to those who might seek to take her away.

Weeks ago she had promised Cael that Summer would reign in Seaside. She hadn’t meant to be so literal. It was an impressive display just the same, one she surely knew better than to make, but it was done so she climbed the stone wall to return to the baronial manor’s protective embrace, leaving the district to contend with the spreading heat wave in her absence.