Rodney, grandson of Aëlífa and Torimái

This is the sequel to "My Aëlífa is Dead - (A Dread Faerie Tale)"

Both these tales are taken from my books named Little Cherine. They can be found in Book 14 (which I am still writing).

Originally I had intended My Aëlífa is Dead to be a one-off story, but thanks to @dreemsteem I have become inspired to write this sequel...and who knows, perhaps there will be more? I guess it depends on how much these stories are loved by my Teller family and my Steemit friends.

This is not a tale of adventure; it mostly serves as an explanation of the first part (for as with real life, things are rarely as we think or expect them to be), while, maybe, setting the stage for a continuation...

My name is Rodney and I am grandson of Thomas and Aëlífa, son of Tirafnaë, with father unknown, for he died before I was conceived. I am thirteen years old and today my life changed. What I have long feared happened.

I was sitting with my neighbour and friend, Isaac, speculating on whether the future will arrive within our time, for us to join the exploration and exodus to other planets. Young enough to be idealists, we tried to imagine ways we would build a civilisation that leaves behind all that is evil of Mankind.

Before I saw her, I sensed her. That never happens with people of this reality, with Terrans, so even as I turned to look at her, I knew I was seeing my first ever faërie. She is beautiful, but she will antagonise any man or woman she meets, for she has a haughty regal manner. I quickly excused myself and ran into my home. As I rushed in, I saw Thomas setting out three glasses and a bottle of Baileys Irish Cream, made of fresh cream and whiskey.

“Son, sit - and do not speak unless I say you may.” He stared into my eyes, “Control yourself as if you were one of them, but do it because you love me, not because of your blood.” I nodded and he went to the front door. Thomas always calls me son, despite my being his grandson, for he says he sees much of his one love, Aëlífa, in me. I do not mind, for he is the only parent I have ever known.

They entered the room and Thomas gestured for her to sit, but she remained standing, so he spoke, his voice cold, curt, not at all welcoming. “You will sit and you shall share with us a glass of cream and whiskey. To avoid offending your sensibilities I did not choose to impose food of our land on you, but drink you shall, or else leave without speaking.”

She sat, and as she sipped, so did Thomas and I.

“It was not necessary, I have not come to harm either of you.”

“That is for me to judge, for I know what harm you are capable of with the use of words. You have come to win over Rodney and though he be your grandson too, that I will not permit. Your success would harm him.” His words shocked me, for now I realised it is the queen of the faëries sitting with us in our home. I had hoped she is my mother, for I am curious and have questions to ask her, but still, meeting the queen and grandmother, that too is important and affects me.

“No Thomas, not to win him over, but to prevent a disaster. If he were only faërie, he would not become a male adult for another five years, but with his Terran blood, he will be changed by puberty within these next two years...we have sensed the changes forming. Can he handle the changes without understanding them?

He saw my eagerness to learn, so he coldly warned her, “Say just one word wrong and sharing hospitality or not, will not protect you from my anger.”

“You are not in my land, Thomas. In yours, you are but a man, your powers do not awaken at will here.”

“You may be surprised, should you give me reason. However,” he pulled his hand out of his pocket and it held a revolver, “even the faërie folk have reason to fear this.”

She did not react, despite their intense dislike of steel, but turned to me. “Have you chosen a faërie name?”

“He has not and will not, unless he and I have chosen for it to be so - or he is a grown man.”

She continued speaking to me, ignoring him. “Before we speak of the present and your future, which will be of your choice alone, despite your grandfathers’ wishes, you must learn of the past.

Our worlds, even to the furthest star in the universe, are alternates of each other. As much as it may offend my people, perhaps those of this reality also, we may be alternates of each other, but alternates who grow out of different stock and promptings…though the existence of your people, as I will be explaining, suggests our stock was the same, only the accidents of evolution forcing us to diverge. Rodney, the differences are far greater than you or your grandfather know of, while so are our similarities.

Many thousands of years ago, it was my people who found the way to transport ourselves to this reality. We learnt that although both exist, one within the other, but never touching, we could create interfaces that open the path for us to visit here. The key is the way we think of them.

We did not find what you think of as Mankind here, what we found was in some senses superior to what you are now - for there was little of evil in them.

You are too young to know of what a driving force sex is. Our people, the faërie, lived a life of ease and some were unquiet, wanting a change, but without knowing what they wished to replace our ways with. They secretly gave in to temptation and copulated with the simple brutes who existed then.

It is the faërie blood which created what you think of as Man. Thomas, you are and have been for thousands of years, family to us, though it be family we do not like nor wish to share our heritage with, for we always remain aware of the animal, the brute, within your flesh and blood.”

I glanced at grandfather and know him well enough to sense the shock he was hiding. He too had not known this truth - for both of us could sense we had heard only truth. She took another sip, I suspect it was to give us time to recover.

“Rodney, the brute ancestors make up over ninety percent of what Mankind is. With you, it is the faërie blood that dominates, you are at least eighty percent of our blood. At this time you think you wish to remain here, to be one of them, but when you become adult, you shall change, their emotions shall sicken you and you shall cloak the emotions that dominate and destroy Mankind, to become like us.

What then?

We do not want you to think you are not welcome to return to your own people - and to your mother. You are my grandson and despite our lack of emotions, we do have instincts and they make demands on us. Our strongest instincts are those that hold us together as family.”

I looked at grandfather and saw he is troubled. He nodded as he answered my questioning look, “It is possible she speaks the truth, for I did see family is important to them, but I also saw they did not love each other.”

She rebutted him, “We do not express our emotions the way your kind do, but we know what love is. Torimái, if we were not capable of love, how is it my daughter loved you? Have you not asked yourself this question? Have you provided yourself with an answer of your making, so as to justify your prejudices?”

“You shall not speak of me as Torimái - that name, that person, no longer exists. I am Thomas.”

Firmly she replied, not in the least cowed by his aggression. “When I speak of the person my daughter loved, then I shall name him Torimái. The man of hate that you have become, yes, he does not deserve the name and must be named Thomas.”

It must be remembered that I was still a child and to see this stern man who was never to be crossed, not even by myself, the one he loves as a son, crumble internally, for I sensed he judged her fairly and conceded her the points she made, I could not help but speak within my mind, “Oh wow!” and I admit I stared at my grandmother, who now I truly saw as a queen, with respect - and admiration. Only now, years later, do I wonder, did my beloved grandfather see and feel I had betrayed him, or did he understand the boy I was then?

For the first time, he asked, “Why did you kill her?”

“She refused to let her daughter return to us, even though it was time she does and my son, her brother, made a mistake. Do you ever ask, why did she love you - or, how is it she loved you?

When it was the time for my Aëlífa to become a woman and cloak her childhood, she fought it. She spoke of her childhood as being a treasure she must never lose. To her, emotions were more important than logic and survival of our specie. She insisted it is a more intense and thus important or beautiful way to live. She fought so violently against the changes that they only occurred to her body, but not her mind. She remained a child - and as a child, so did she…so was she able to love you.

My son, the one you so casually murdered, he tried to help her open herself to become what he thought she should be. She still loved you so violently, that as his efforts started to change her, she chose death and stopped her heart.”

She then spoke to me, “Rodney, choose a name that suits who and what you will become, for you are of our specie, named by Mankind a faërie. Even should you choose not to return to us, admit to being what you are by having a name for us to think of and remember you.”

“Son…Rodney, you may speak. The choice is yours.”

I avoided looking at his eyes and spoke to her, not afraid of looking into hers. “You talk of percentages, but they do not include who I am, how I have grown up and how I think. I have friends here I love - as friends. If I am to love a woman, I think I will need a woman like those of Man, for how can I love her but not have her love?

I do not feel like a faërie, but I accept the changes you speak of may bring me closer to you. I will choose a name, Ronarée.”

“It is not a name of our people.”

I nodded. “I know, it is like me, only mostly faërie, but enough not faërie to remind my faërie kin that I am also not faërie, while enough like faërie names, for men to remember I too am of the faërie. Does it satisfy both of you?”

She nodded, bending her head to me for a second. I turned to my grandfather - no, from now I shall refer to him as Father, for he has ever been that to me. He asked, “And what of when you change? Will you cast aside emotions and change your name?”

“I do not know, father. What you ask, I too ask myself, am I enough of Aëlífa to be like her and keep my heart open? Father, I also wish to know and love my faërie kin, will you open your door to mother and… grandmother?”

Αλέξανδρος Ζήνον Ευσταθίου

(Alexander Zenon Eustace)

^{Written: 6th June, 2018}

• posted on Steemit 7th June, 2018
  

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