My Aëlífa is Dead (a dread fairy tale)

in #sfandf-fiction6 years ago (edited)

Aëlífa.png


My Aëlífa is Dead - title.png

I drove like a maniac to get home, to prove what I was told is a lie. My Aëlífa cannot be dead, she should have lived five times as long as me. My anger was directed at my brother, for he had phoned me, to poison my heart with his lies.

As I arrived at my home, Rodney came out to me and I saw how grief had darkened his eyes and etched his face and my rage trembled, collapsed, and I stared into his eyes as I demanded, “No!”

He placed his arm around my shoulders and gently drew me towards the door, the door I did not want to enter, for grief waited inside. At the threshold, I asked, “Has Tirafnaë returned?”

“She is gone, Tommy, they took her.” He has, ever since Aëlífa married me, called me by the name she gave me, Torimái. The old name, it made the evil he spoke of become truth and I went to my wife, my beautiful, dead wife.

As I sat on the floor, staring into the dulled eyes of my love, he told me of how he saw the faërie walk to my house and that my Aëlífa opened the door for them. Curiosity drove him and in the hope he’ll finally get to meet some of them, he walked over. The door was open, but when he entered he saw her lying on the floor and knew they have left, taking my precious daughter with them.

I leaned over so that my face would be all she would see if she were alive, and vowed, “I will bring her back my love. She is yours, mine, not theirs.” I gently closed her eyes, having seen them for the last time, and gave her cold lips my last kiss. I then turned to Rodney, “You must fly me to them, I must get Tirafnaë back. Is your plane fuelled and ready?”

His eyes did not flinch as I searched him for fear or reluctance, and simply answered, “It is ready, as always, but what flight plan do I give?”

“Whatever. Let’s go.”



As we flew, the sky was blue, untroubled and sunny, the planet that I thought loves us, entirely oblivious of my pain, of her death. I closed my eyes and concentrated on my images of the Land and I heard Rodney take a deep breath. I looked and saw a massive cloud line before us. We flew into it and I kept him directed so that we arrive close to the palace.

I lost myself in memories of my love, of our happy love that was so brightened by the spark of life, our beautiful Tirafnaë, our fourteen year old daughter. Maybe it was instinct, but I jerked and looked at my brother. He was slumped over and I could feel the plane was descending. In my minds eye I could see the low ridge ahead and knew we were about to crash into it. I pulled at the stick, pushing my brother back, and we just skimmed over the top and arrived within the Land.

I did not need to feel for a pulse, I knew that Rodney is dead. Dead at forty one years. Dead just days before his wedding. The coldness of heart, of this Land, froze me, so that all I thought of is landing safely, finding and taking my, no, still ‘our’ precious daughter back home.


Most ignored me as I entered the opening in the forest, walking to their destination with scarcely a glance at me, but five waited, facing me. My brother in law spoke for them. “You entered our Land in a machine. You knew it is forbidden. You brought one of them with you, and that too you knew is forbidden. You had the gift to find us, so we could not punish you with your death, but whatever blame and guilt there is, is yours.”

“I am not here to debate with you. I want our daughter back.”

“She is with her grandmother and there she shall stay. You are now Thomas and do not belong here. Never return, for next time it is your heart which shall stop.”

I stared with a hard knot of anger threatening to tear at me as I told him, “You knew that he is my brother. He was to wed and dreamed of having children. You stole the lives of his children when you killed him and his dream.” The rage grew, not a brightness of volcanic fire, just the total darkness of vengeance.

“As you stole from him, so shall I steal from you.” My dark cloud burst out of me and covered the light, the spark in every male mind within the Land. As they collapsed, I sensed myself growing, powers erupting like lava, covering my mind, dampening my pity for them.

The queen arrived, mother of my love and wife. Next to her stood Tirafnaë, but I instantly, with the new clarity of my sudden powers, knew that she is no longer my daughter, she is now one of them, without the murmurings of the heart for influencing her cold logic and faërie instincts.

She called out, “Stop father, let them live, please.” There was no emotion, just the fierce demand her people live.

“Can they…can you, bring back to life your mother and your uncle? Their fate is theirs. They too shall never have a child again. Any children born to the faërie from now on must be fathered by a man of our people, not of the faërie. As they killed his dream, so do I kill the dream of the faërie. It is time you stop existing as you are.”

As if ignoring me, she turned to her grandmother and explained what she knows of biology. The queen sent out and all the females stole from the dead males their sperm and using their abilities, ensured they fertilised an egg, so that within minutes all of them, including the queen and my daughter, were pregnant. I reached out and snuffed the spark in those meant to become male children, allowing only the son to be born to our daughter.

“You shall return with me,” I coldly ordered of my daughter, “or else they shall all die. Once my grandson is born, then you may return here – without him.”

The aeroplane lifted as I used my mind to raise it and we flew back towards my own world, to the Land of Mankind. I reminded myself the engine must be working as we arrive, and then sank back to stare ahead, while thinking of my daughter.

Her presence will be a stone weighing on my heart, but I have a secret hope that once she is back in our land, in our world where emotions drive us, the faërie magic will melt away so that she is my daughter again. ‘Do I have the power to help it happen?’, I asked myself.

I do not know. All I can do is hope and dream – and her son, grandson of my Aëlífa and myself, he shall be named Rodney and I will stay alive until I have ensured his dreams come true, whatever else happens.






Αλέξανδρος Ζήνον Ευσταθίου
(Alexander Zenon Eustace)

Written: 30th May, 2018

  • posted on Steemit 31st May, 2018
Sort:  

ωραιο μου φαίνεται..πολύ καλό :)))
ειχα πολλές άγνωστες λέξεις άλλα αυτό δε πειράζει..

faërie=νεράιδα
reluctance=απροθυμία
the plane was descending = το αεροπλάνο κατέβαινε
I could see the low ridge = μπορούσα να δω το χαμηλό κορυφογραμμή
we just skimmed over the top = perasame ksista πάνω από την κορυφή
pulse = σφυγμός
forbidden = apogorevmeno
clarity = σαφήνεια
snuffed the spark = esvisa tin σπίθα

Mantepsa sosta tois leksis pou den ikseres?

χαχαχαα.... ναι... Καλημέρα!!!!

This post has been selected for curation by @gmuxx and has been upvoted with the @msp-curation account, and is featured in @GMuxx's weekly fiction curation post. It will also be considered for the official @minnowsupport community curation post and if selected will be resteemed from the main account.

Feel free to join us in the Minnow Support Palnet Discord!. For editing help and writing assistance consider joining The Writers' Block Discord server.

HERMOSO, caramba me impacto... me gusto... me fascina...

Hello @arthur.grafo, thank you for sharing this creative work! We just stopped by to say that you've been upvoted by the @creativecrypto magazine. The Creative Crypto is all about art on the blockchain and learning from creatives like you. Looking forward to crossing paths again soon. Steem on!

Thank you very much. Your message, more than anything else, has re-inspired me to keep writing - of course the upvote was really appreciated also
:)

I never read fiction while I'm writing a story.... because I'm afraid of the way it might influence my own story - but I came to see your blog because of your kind comments :)

and I couldn't stop reading! Thankfully, I do have my own story lined out... so I think I should be safe from the influence of daring to read yours.... hehehe but... if it is influenced? I'll be glad for it! Because this was THRILLING!!!

Great great work of fantasy!!! :)

Oh wow!

I am at chapter 12 of your story and I found I am starting to want to delay reading, because I don't want it to end. Here I am thinking some very nice thoughts about you and your talent...and I get this kind of review from you!

I am going to end as I started, for it is also a great way to end my day...

Oh wow!

hehehehe well this made me smile!!!! and made my night! :)

but.. read read read!!! hehehehe i want you to join the rest of us!!! hehehe Tonight I'm reading all the comments on chapter 22 - and i LOVE the interaction :)

You should come join in! :) (but be forewarned... there are some pretty strong opinions forming as the story develops!!! lol)

As I've been reading, I've also been checking out the comments. Sometimes a comment gives me another way of looking at what I read, so I consider them important. Sometimes though, I find it impossible to understand the picture that person must have in his/her head.

I was also surprised to see, right from the start, one of the most successful authors on steemit making a comment and praising you. That impressed me.

I tried blocking all payments to me so as to stop the auto-voting. I care more about how many people have read my stories, It did not work (I had not thought it through - auto voters means the person behind it does not get to see that I have blocked payments, since voting does not get blocked).

I am now at chapter 17, so not far to go...
:)

hehehehehe - yeah, I had an issue with auto votes or a little while - but now - I see it as a sign of confidence from the Steemian. They trust that I'll put out good content - sight unseen, and don't want to miss any opportunity to support me :)

I also do the same for some Steemians :)

Yes - I agree with you about comments (I live in the comment section sometimes hehehehe)

And actually - 3 successful authors on Steemit stopped by to give me support! @johnjgeddes, @michelle.gent, and @dreemit :) It's quite the honor :)

I'm excited that you're catching up!!!!! hehehehe

This story has a weird origin.

As those who follow Little Cherine may have seen, I have visited her and the family in their reality a number of times - during my sleep, in lucid dreams.

Seeing them, our interactions, our exchanges of emotions and ideas, has only made me think of them as more real and has also made me love them more, so I desperately wish for another, even when months go by with nothing, I do not give up.

I woke up with jumbled images in my mind and for a second I was happy, thinking I had visited my family again. Then I realised it was some other world, some harsher reality.

All, as I told it, was what I experienced in that lucid dream (not truly a lucid dream, as you know you are dreaming in them), but the clarity, the 'realness' of the dream is like a lucid dream.

When I am feeling particularly confident they really do exist in another reality, then I think of these dreams as visions.

Now comes the question I have asked myself so many times: Do I have the right to claim the story as mine, since I did not create it - and was just gifted it?

I've often woken up with fully-formed songs (that I need to SCRIBBLE FURIOUSLY to capture in their entirety) or stories or solutions to problems - after sleeping and dreaming about them.

It's a gift! But its YOUR gift :)

No one else received it - so use the gift and add to it!!!

@dragonslayer101 - I am always grateful for your upvote support, but, this time, I have a feeling you would have enjoyed the story if you had read it.

Wow posts your good friend.

Coin Marketplace

STEEM 0.35
TRX 0.12
JST 0.040
BTC 70753.86
ETH 3589.34
USDT 1.00
SBD 4.75