Young Writers Society

A/N: For those who are new, Ayda is a fairy and Madeline is a human from our world. Ayda is taking Madeline to Crescent Moon to help her get back to our world. They've just been attacked by a Shade and are rather on edge.

Madeline and Ayda didn’t reach the town, a small collection of houses with a thriving marketplace and inn, until well after dark, but after the attack neither of them so much as suggested setting up camp and arriving the next morning.

“I’ll go in and get your cloak,” Ayda said as they approached the gate. She was flying again, and they were traveling on the road. Now that it was after dark and they were far away from Nikka, they were less worried about Madeline’s appearance or any search parties that may have been sent to retrieve Ayda.

Madeline shook her head. “I don’t care if I’m stared at. I don’t want to be left in the dark alone in the forest.”

“We’re going to have to camp out here anyway. I don’t have enough money for an inn.” Ayda pointed out.

“I just want to sleep inside the wall,” Madeline insisted.

“I know,” Ayda said, rubbing her forehead, weary. “But we’ll be much more comfortable outside. We’ll be near enough that if there’s trouble, someone will come. And it’ll be hard to find us in the dark.”

“I’m still coming inside with you.”

Ayda looked more closely and realized the poor girl was shaking slightly. “All right,” she finally said, and laying a steadying hand on Madeline’s shoulder, they walked into the town together.

The darkness helped. The shopkeeper they bought the cloak and a canteen for Madeline from was an elm dryad, and Ayda knew he could tell that Madeline was not any form of dryad. He eyed them shrewdly, and Ayda hurried him through the purchase, wary of his discerning eye. But as they turned to leave the shop, he spoke.

“Your business is your own, of course,” he said. “But I’d be mighty curious to find out what a human and a fairy are doing together here in Crowbury, considering that there haven’t been any humans in Arvania for a thousand years.”

Madeline froze, and Ayda’s stomach churned. “Come on,” she hissed to Madeline, prodding her out the door.

Madeline donned her cloak as soon as they were outside, but the secret was out, and Ayda wished she understood the reason for the dread that churned inside of her at the thought of who that shopkeeper might tell. She redoubled her efforts and coaxed Madeline into agreeing to sleep outside, to minimize the chance of more people seeing her.

They made their camp on the eastern side of the town, where the forest met the wild plains. Madeline curled up on the grass, using her cloak as a pillow, but her whole body was rigid and she flinched at every noise.

Ayda approached the girl slowly. Brushing back a strand of her hair, she whispered into Madeline’s ear.

“The stars are beautiful tonight. The new moon give the darkness needed to see them well. Would you like me to show you our constellations?”

Madeline swallowed and nodded almost imperceptibly. Ever so slowly, she stretched out, rolling over onto her back. Her gaze focused on the stars, and she gave a tiny gasp of wonder.

Ayda slipped her tiny hand into Madeline’s large one, which rested on her chest. “This is my favorite part of traveling,” she whispered. “Sleeping under the stars.”

One by one, she traced out all the constellations she knew, naming them and explaining their shape. Inch by inch, Madeline relaxed beside her, her breathing slowing to be easy and calm. After a time, there simply didn’t seem to be a need for words anymore, and Ayda trailed off, content to watch the heavens with her friend.

A moment or an age later, Madeline stirred. “I’m really not on Earth anymore, am I?” Her voice was quiet and wistful. “Even the stars are different. More amazing then I’ve ever seen, even when camping. But they’re not mine.”

Madeline’s words struck Ayda. She knew Erinore’s and Neleluna’s stars just as well as she knew Arvania’s, but did that make them all hers, or none of them? And was her home the open road, or did she have no home at all?

“Madeline,” she finally said, “There’s so much to explore here and I know because I’ve spent my whole life exploring it. There’s so much I could show you, if you wanted to stay.”

Ayda fixed her eyes on Relis, the star on which oaths were sworn. “But I know you don’t, and so, Madeline, I swear to you, no matter what it takes, I’ll see you make it home.”

Madeline smiled, still staring up at the stars. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “I almost wish I could stay.”

-

They woke with the sun the next morning, broke camp, and began the second half of their journey. Ever eastward they hurried, hardly speaking, the memory of the Shade’s attack driving them forward mile after mile. They passed many folk both Big and Little, but spoke to none of them. And was it Ayda’s imagination, or did the folk they passed seem a little more hurried, a little more wary?

On another endless hour. They didn’t stop for lunch, eating the last crumbs in Ayda’s pack as they walked. There were no berries to pick or mushrooms to find here, across the open plains.

Ayda should have loved it, and in some ways she did, glorying in the open plains and the wide sky. But always in the back of her mind lurked the sense that something sacred about the Arvanian wilds had been violated, and now the only thing to do was rush onwards and tell the Lord and Lady at Crescent Moon.

It was nearing dusk when they reached the outskirts of Moonwater — Madeline’s pace had slowed steadily over the past hour, and Ayda didn’t have the heart to urge her on. Her own wings were weary, and her bruised back ached every time she changed direction.

Almost alone of the crowd, they turned left at the crossroads instead of streaming over the bridge and into the brightly lit city, turned and began climbing the hill to Crescent Moon. An oasis of trees in the middle of the grasslands, it like Moonwater was walled and gated.

As they got closer, Ayda squinted, trying in the failing light to make out the gates and the guards that stood in front of them. She blinked in surprise, then rubbed her eyes. The light had to be playing tricks on her. Her sense of scale was completely wrong — the tree trunks seemed to spiral high above the wall, but this was no fairy city. Trees just didn’t grow to be that size. She had seen dryad-worked trees, but this…

They glowed in the evening light, a hundred little lights shining through the leaves. Did people live up there?

“Are those real?” Madeline whispered to her, craning her neck to stare at the trees.

Ayda nodded. “I’d known there were dryad-grown trees here, but I never knew they could grow this large.”

“State your name and your business here,” a rough voice interrupted them. Ayda tore herself away from the splendor. The voice belonged to one of the centaur guards. His face was shaven, but his arms were muscular and he held a long spear.

“I am Ayda Mossfrost, of Nikka,” Ayda said. “And this is Madeline.”

Madeline pulled her hood back, shaking out her shoulder-length hair. “I’m a human,” she told the guard. “And we’re here to see if there is a way for me to get home.”

His eyes widened as he took in Madeline. She unclasped the cloak at his request and let it fall to the ground so he could see her more clearly. For long moments, he stared at her as if trying to see into her soul. Ayda hovered, impatient.

Finally, he nodded. “Your magic makes it clear — you are no dryad, nor any species of the Three Kingdoms. We have been expecting you. Please, a moment.”

He turned aside and gestured wildly with his hands as if he was writing something — Ayda thought he was working magic, but she couldn’t be sure. An inky jet shot out and flew straight as an arrow into the heart of Crescent Moon.

“I have sent the Lord and Lady a message,” he explained. “Please, put on your cloak again and come with me. You, too,” he said to Ayda.

Relief swept through Ayda. One obstacle out of the way. Though what did he mean by ‘we’ve been expecting you?’

But then Ayda flew over the threshold of Crescent Moon and forgot her worries.

The path that led down the center of Crescent Moon was lined with saplings coated in moonmoss, rarer and more difficult to grow than firemoss. Its soft blue hue cast a otherworldly light across the lane. Ayda felt as if she was stepping into a fourth Kingdom, more strange and magical than any she had seen before. The magic here electrified the air — Ayda could feel it tingling through her body, like a fizzy drink she had once bought in Neleluna.

She counted at least six enormous trees, towering over the others. They were set further back from the main road, with their own network of paths lacing around them. Each stretched up into the heavens, so tall that mist obscured the lowest branches, but from the glimpses Ayda caught through the smaller trees, the trunks of the great trees were buildings. Dryad-sized, not fairy-sized.

Beside her, she knew Madeline was just as awed. All around them were people of every kind, Big and Little. Old centaurs clopped softly along the dirt paths with a distant expression on their face, while young foals chased dryad children around the trees. A group of leprechauns and gnomes spoke softly to each other underneath a hickory tree, and high up in the branches Ayda was sure she saw a few fairies flitting around, their wings reflecting the firemoss lanterns that lit the other paths.

But at a soft call from Madeline, Ayda turned and realized she was lagging behind. She hurried to catch up, but almost stopped dead in the air when she saw what they were approaching.

It must have been the center tree, the main Hall, the heart of Crescent Moon and all scholarship in Arvania. The trunk itself was wide enough to house a large room, but in addition — it was as if the whole tree had been carved by a expert sculptor; it was as if the roots and low branches had grown and twisted themselves in just the right way to form walls and windows and door frames that surrounded the massive trunk so that two sprawling wings branched off from the main tree. Windows dotted the trunk as high up as Ayda could see. Both moonmoss and firemoss shone through, the blue and the orange casting beautiful shadows over the leaves.

The main entry, twice as tall as Madeline, was still dwarfed by the roots of this vast tree. Inside, a spiral staircase ran up the trunk and half a dozen doors were set along the sides, but their guide took Ayda and Madeline directly across the hall, to the largest pair of dark oak doors.

A dryad aide stood by the doors. “They’re ready for you,” she said.

Ayda flew a little closer to Madeline. “Let’s do this,” she whispered.

Madeline nodded and pushed open the heavy doors.