Sharp as Steel -- Prologue

Alwin Ashworthe should have known better. 

     That's what the maids of Hopsdale said to themselves, shaking their heads as they watched him chase a fox. That's what the housewives whispered to each other as he splashed around in the plentiful mud from the morning rain, daring the other kids to eat it. That's what his parents said, too, as he came home with yet another letter from his school, saying that he will not be allowed back in the building until he learns to behave himself and stops poking Nancy Pimm with sticks during morning prayers.

     Not that Alwin himself ever listened, of course. Especially not now, when he was doing his greatest challenge yet: touching the old fairy ring at the edge of the woods.

     It was Willie Dankwardt who had dared him, last Sunday after church. Walked right up to him, as Alwin was bragging about his latest accomplishment, knocking on the door of the old witch Gwendoline Smith and running before she could catch him, to a crowd of admirers.

     "Yeah, well my mum says she ain't even a witch," Willie had said loudly, just as Alwin got to the most exciting part, "she says she's just a lonely old lady. We even invite her over for supper sometimes."

     Alwin had spun around, anger flaring up inside him. "You leave your mummy out of this!" he spat, "she's a witch, and you know it!"

     Willie smirked. "Even Betsy Bagshaw is more of a witch than her." Some kids started nodding along to his words. Well, Alwin didn't like them anyways.

     "She gave me a candy apple once," one of his admirers, a girl named Rose, offered. "She seemed nice." Other children started pitching their own stories of old Gwendoline Smith, and how of course she isn't a witch, because since when do witches give little kids treats and coins?

     "You just think you're so great because you touched some moldy old logs," Willie continued,  "When's the last time you did anything  brave?"

     He glared at him. "Today."

     The other boy rolled his eyes. "I mean actually brave. That doesn't count, 'cause it wasn't brave."

     "You're just jealous," Alwin accused, pointing a grimy finger.

     "Yeah?" Willie returned his glare, "Well, at least I'm not a 'fraidy-cat like you. If you were real brave, You'd do something real dangerous."

     He folded his arms. "Like what?"

     "I dare you to touch the fairy ring by the woods."

     The kids gasped. The wind drew in a breath. The very sky seemed to darken in anticipation. No one was allowed to go near the fairy ring, the odd ring of mushrooms at the edge of the nearby forest. Alwin's Mumma had even sat him down the day after Old Benedict had found the ring and warned him never to go there, because the fairy ring is where fairies catch little boys and make them disappear. Then she gave him a lesson on fairies, and how to protect himself from them. He had never followed the rules, though. They were annoying, and fairies were only a stupid bedtime story to scare little boys into behaving, so what was the point?

     "I accept the dare."

     And that's how Alwin found himself creeping through the woods, following the thin dirt path that led to the fairy ring. It was generous to call it a path, even- it was more like a bit of trampled ground that if you followed carefully happened to pass near the ring. 

     A sudden crash echoed through the forest. He jumped, ready to run back to safety, when he noticed the culprit.

     "Just a tree branch," he whispered. Just a stupid tree branch that fell. He let out a nervous laugh. He hadn't truly thought that was a fairy, did he? Because didn't believe in kid's stories. He was braver than that. Or at least, he was supposed to be.

     He glanced nervously over his shoulder one more time before continuing down the dirt path. Just a little bit more, he reminded himself, Just a bit more, and then I can get out of here and tell Willie and all the other dumb kids how brave I am.

     Still, it took shorter than he would've liked to reach the fairy ring. He could see it now, a ring of mushrooms eerily placed in a perfect circle. He looked around. Looked up at the canopy of leaves. Looked down at his worn-out boots. Tapped his foot a bit. Even jumped around a little. Nothing happened. He sighed and, stepping closer, he reached out towards one of the mushrooms. His fingers hovered over it, uncertain. 

      You are brave.

     Before he could overthink it, Alwin reached out and grabbed the mushroom.

     ...Nothing.

     Slowly, he stood up. That was anti-clamt...anti-climatic, he mused. Maybe I'll make up a story about fighting a fairy or something. With that, he spun around to leave.

     "Oh, you're going already?

     He froze. Then, ever so slowly, he turned back to the fairy ring. There, sitting on a branch hanging over the ring with legs dangling, was a girl. She was a thin little thing, all pale skin and long legs and hair the color of her flushed cheeks, biting into a glossy red apple with a satisfying crunch. Alwin could've sworn that he could smell it from where he was standing, sweeter and juicier than melon.

     "You were very entertaining," the girl continued in her high-pitched voice, "and we don't get much of that around here." She paused to swallow a chunk of apple. "Entertainment, I mean."

     Alwin just stared.

     The girl frowned. "What? It's quite boring over here, if you hadn't noticed." Crunch. Another bite of apple.

     "A-are you a fairy?" He finally managed to get out.

     She giggled, wrinkling her perfect little nose. "You thought I was a faery?" She said it differently, more fay-ree than fare-ee. "Eww. They're so annoying." She shook her head at his foolishness, a merry smile on her lips. "A faery," She repeated, as if it were the most ridiculous thing she'd ever heard.

      What are you then? Alwin did not ask. He was too busy shaking from fright.

      Crunch. The girl's lively gaze swept over him, as if he were a treat she couldn't wait to sample.  Her eyes suddenly paused, her smile sliding back into a frown. "Your socks are inside out."

     He looked down at his feet. His socks were covered by his mud-splattered boots, save for the hole by his big toe, where a bit stuck out. Huh. They were inside-out. He did that sometimes, by mistake.

     "So?"

     The girl gave an airy wave, her smile returning, "Oh, nothing to worry about." She peered at him, "Say, you never introduced yourself. What's your name?"

     "Alwin," He said automatically. He immediately clapped his hands over his mouth. Never, ever, ever tell a fairy your true name, his Mumma had warned him. But...this wasn't a fairy. 

     "Alwin," the girl said with relish, as if savoring the taste of the name, "Alwin. Al- win. Alllllllwin."

     So why did he still feel as though he just made a terrible mistake?

     "Say, Alwin," she emphasized his name, her smile suddenly more sly than before, "You really want to show your bravery, right?"

     Slowly, Alwin nodded. He didn't ask how she knew. It didn't seem to matter anymore. Nothing mattered anymore except for her voice.

     The girl's pale eyes glittered. "I think you should walk right into the middle of the faery ring. Wouldn't that prove your bravery so much more?

     He nodded, and slowly, step-by-step, approached the ring. 

      It's all right, he told himself as he pashed the threshold of mushrooms and the world around him disappeared, I can trust her. I'll just stay for a bit, but I'll come back. I'll show everyone how brave I am.

     Alwin Ashworthe should have known better.

     No one comes back from Faeryland.

Hey guys! Aspawn speaking.

This is my first story I ever published online (as you can tell) and an experiment in (kinda) pantsing. And because of this, I'd really appreciate critiques and comments, on the story and on my writing style in general. Also, I have done some research on Fae for this story, but if anyone has some cool piece of folklore that I didn't know and may appreciate, please tell me. Anyways, enjoy!

            -Aspawn