Through pain and misery shall thee lie upon,
Through darkness and death shall thee feel,
Through love and hope shall thee crush,
Through punishment and rage shall thee feed upon.
Darkness, darkness, it is draining me, she muttered, licking the cold and dripping wet stone walls. Sucking down every drip of water she could, not caring if the walls tasted of things unmentionable. Her thirst was so great that she did not care how low she had fallen.
She sat up and glanced out of the barred window of her tiny cell. Rubbing the black and dull green mold that had grown slowly on her face, she watched a field mouse hop towards her window.
Come mousey, mousey… Come and be the supper I have desired for so many days. She dreamily hummed and stood, her dark green, leafy legs shaking from the effort. She stretched a similar colored arm and hand through the small opening in the bars and hummed loud enough for the field mouse to hear.
The gentle sounding melody struck the mouse's ears, it glanced in her direction, it's black eyes staring into the empty sockets of the other being.
"Come little mouse, come to the one who cares, come to your master who shall live upon the nourishment of your body…" She ever so softly sang, her claw-like hand stretched out and beckoning the field mouse to come.
Its whiskers twitched, as it hopped ever so closer to the being that smelled of roses and pine.
"Yes, dear mouse, may you ever so come to until-" Her voice cut short as she let out a strangled yell, her hand crushed under the thick shoe of a young man; the field mouse darting away from the sudden noise.
"Just what the heck are you thinking, faerie?" He growled and hefted more of his weight onto her hand.
Groaning, the faerie rested her forehead against the bars. "I am hunting for my dinner, young knight. Why must you stop me?"
Grinning, he lifted his foot and peered in through the window, trying not to shudder or lose his cocky grin as he looked into her sockets. "There are orders, faerie, to not feed you anything." His black and gaping grin caused the faerie to flinch, for she could see the hideous manner of the young knight's appearance, even with a lack of eyes.
"And why is that so, young knight?" She asked.
"'As it is said, you only feed upon others punishment and rage," was his reply as he nervously ran his fingers through his greasy and mangled brown hair.
The faerie stared at him, her leaves softly whispering as they moved, overlapping and shifting closer to her body. "That is nothing but a fable of the imagination, young knight." She scoffed, and slid down to sit upon the floor.
The young male glared down into the pit she dwelt in. "Fable?" He barked, "You killed entire villages! You killed my brother, you rotten faerie, my mother and father aren't living no more because of you!" He spat at her. The saliva hitting his intended target in the midst of her dull purple hair. "And worst of all, you enjoyed all of it! All the pain and misery!" Standing, he kicked the bars with his metal boot, showering dirt into the cell.
The faerie glanced back up at the young knight through the haze with which she watched him. She could only see from his chin down, which wasn't much to be able to see his expression. But the tears dripping off his chin and onto his soiled tunic showed her just how he felt.
Glancing back to the dirt and mold covered floor, she acknowledged the fact that he was right. She had enjoyed all the destruction, pain and misery. But she did not know why… She was a faerie, one who had the responsibility to care for life and to make it grow. She was to watch over the creatures of the forest and skies, to be their protector.
And yet, she had almost eaten one of those creatures she was supposed to watch over.
And she had killed so many humans, so many that had found faeries to be magical and unique beings, so many that had treasured her kind.
Why had she been so foolish?
Why have I? She thought as she curled up in her bed of brittle leaves, feeling yet another night of hunger fall upon her.
Another night, another seasons-cycle went by, and yet the faerie did not know why she had gone against the nature of her kind.
Welcome new seasons-cycle, she cried to herself, sap pouring down her face as she looked out her window over the snow covered land.
For nineteen seasons-cycle she had been kept in the dark pit, her leaves slowly turning brown from the lack of sun, her light green skin paled to stark white, her eyes had hidden away under her barklids, and her once glossy, translucent purple hair that floated about lay dull around her, it's length touching the floor.
Her wings had died the day she started to commit the horrendous acts that had placed her in the cell, so she did not remember what they looked like.
Losing your wings meant you weren't worthy of being a faerie, yet she had not minded when she started extinguishing life.
At least, not until the day before she was tossed into this pit.
What had caused her to act in such a horrid way?
After Winter's harsh winds and Spring's weak light, came the scorching heat of Summer. Its light was bright enough that a little stream showered into the cell, where the faerie sat in it and soaked up the Sun.
Though it was far too small to energize her, she accepted the small blessing, thanking the Sun for its gift.
She let the Sun heat up a small part of her back as she drew spirals in the damp dirt with her clawed finger. Her head tilted down in thought as the spirals slowly seemed to spin around her.
Jerking her head up to stare ahead, she realized why she had done what was so despised.
It was jealousy of humans.
Of the fact that they could create such wonderful things, they could write in that language of theirs and they could enjoy one another as friends or mates.
Faeries could not create such magnificent things as they, they did not ever have time to enjoy, they always must work. They could not write, for faeries found it foolish to write things that could just better be translated by thought to one another. They did not believe in getting to know each other, the only time they gathered was to scout for mates; find who was the best to help create the next generation of faeries, so that the new sprouts could take over the older faeries responsibilities.
A faeries only purpose in life was to work, not to enjoy life, but to take care of it for others.
The faerie realized she had festered a dark hatred for the humans, and had only wanted to see them dead. So she had vowed to do such.
Heaving a sob, she covered her face with her hands and cried. A vow by a faerie was both a blessing and a curse, the a vow made for the right reasons brought blessings. But a vow for dark would cause the faerie to lose their mind.
"Dear sky!" She cried out, hating herself with such a passion the leaves on her arms and legs shook and dropped off her skin, causing her skin to slowly start to die from the lack of energy that had been in those leaves.
The leaves on faeries were what kept them alive.
"Faerie?!" The young knight shouted through the thick metal door to her pit. "What are you doing in there?! The grass is dying, the trees are falling over and birds are dropping from the sky! What dark magic is this?!"
The faerie wept, there was no magic, the only thing causing the failing of the land and sky was because of the start of her death. Her life was attached to part of the land and she had been keeping it alive through her imprisonment.
In a few years, she would have mated, started teaching her young sprout how to take care of the land she was a part of, and when the time came, she would expire and her sprout would have taken over, because the land would have become part of them.
But since it had no other to attach to, the land was dying alongside her.
"Young knight!" She cried out, her face sticky with sap as she shakily stood and stumbled to the door. "Young knight, I am dying! The land is a part of me, and as I die, so does it!" Weeping, she laid against the door. "I realize how foolish I was to have killed so many and destroyed so much! You humans did not deserve to die from this young faerie's foolish jealousy! Forgive me, young knight! For as I ask this, I ask that you please just listen!" With a shaky breath, she spoke of her foolishness and begged for forgiveness, all the while slowly dying.
The young knight watched the land die before his eyes as he listened to the honest pleads of the faerie trapped on the other side of the door. He watched bush beside the door dropped its' leaves and became brittle, the grass became bone dry and became as brown as the dirt.
"Dear young knight, I beg of you just to let me out into the sun so I mean heal and likewise heal the land…" The faerie's voice becoming raspy as she slid down to the ground; her skin as brown as the grass and her bones almost as brittle as the bush. "I vow that I shall never run away from you, young knight. Never shall I harm another human in my life, and if I shall ever break my vow, may you kill me and throw me before the birds…"
The young knight gritted his teeth, was the faerie lying? What if she was just pretending to die , meanwhile causing everything else to die just so she could escape from her prison?
The faerie shed the last tear she could, knowing that she would never gain the knight's trust, for she had caused such sorrow to him. Such pain and misery, such sadness and loss of hope. She had become the thing that no faerie could have ever thought of, a destroyer of life.
Mustering up her remaining strength, she shouted to the knight, "I vow to heal the land, young knight!"
With that she became silent.
She lost her sight, the haze she had looked through since her eyes had retreated, dissipated. She felt her hearing go, and lost feeling in her body.
The young knight watched the grass turn black and heard the faerie grow silent. His eyes widened as trees crumbled into ashes and animals died, toppling over as if they were suddenly shot by an arrow.
Unsheathing his broad sword, he swung the handle of it down onto the lock of the door, causing it to shatter into pieces. As he tossed the sword aside, he yanked the rusted door open and stared in horror at the nearly dead faerie lying on the ground. Carefully, yet quickly, he scooped her up in his arms, and ran out into the field, away from the tower and cell.
Stumbling in his heavy armor and boots, he continued running until he came to the middle of the field where the sun shone brightly. It's golden light shimmering over the dying land, as if biding it farewell.
He dropped to his knees and laid the faerie on the ground in the shriveling wheat. She didn't look anything like a faerie anymore, she looked like nothing more than a dried out husk. Her hair had fallen out in wispy strands, the wind blew at them, causing them to fly in the air and dance about in the sky.
The young knight stood and looked around, praying that the faerie would awaken and bring about life to the land.
But nothing was happening, if anything it seemed to be growing worse.
With a shout of anger and curses at the faerie, he ran back to his sword and sheathed it. He headed back to the faerie and knelt beside her again, and vowed that he would not leave her side until she fulfilled her vow.
I vow to heal the land, young knight!
Nights and moons past, and the young knight stood by his vow. Not ever once leaving the faerie's side.
Fields abundant in rich soil that caused the most luscious vegetation to grow quickly withered away. Wells slowly began to dry up and the smell of rotting animal flesh perfumed the air.
It not once rained upon the parched ground, all that came was dry winds, harsh sun, and blisteringly cold night. These killing all vegetation and waters.
Many in the knight's village left and many passed away, what few did remain kept the young knight alive. Feeding him as much as they could bear to give him, which was just enough to allow him to survive.
The knight stood his ground and the faerie did not awaken from her husk.
A moon passed, and the knight finally could stand no longer. Collapsing to his knees, he buried his face in his hands and moaned. "Faerie, I do not know if you live any more, but if you hear me, do know that I forgive you… Just please, bring back the life to this land! My people and I are dying, and many are dead! I would move my family and so many others to more fertile land, but we have no money or strength to travel so far. And I must keep this cursed vow, for otherwise I will not be known as a man of truth." He looked at the hardened husk that had been his companion for five moon cycles. "I forgive you."
Nothing but the dry wind answered him with a long whistle.
Then, the husk cracked.