The Sky-Girl

Wistfully, Elendea looked down at the world from her sky-prison, waiting for Aquinas to return. The moonlight shining down gave the clouds around her a silver glow, and the world below was bathed in a soft light. The girl looked down at the world, at the people below, and wished that she could once again walk the surface with them. After a moment, her thoughts were cut short by the arrival of Aquinas.

“The surface is beautiful, tonight,” he told her. “The people are settling down to sleep, and the children are looking up at you, not even knowing of whom they dream.”

Elendea smiled. “What would I do without you,” she murmured, stroking the turtle’s shell while he purred in contentment. “Did you find him?” she asked, continuing to pet her friend.

“No, Princess. I am sorry,” he responded softly.

“Allora. ‘Tis no matter; you will find him when the time is right. Now, tell me of the world below,” she requested, longing to hear news of the world which she had not seen for herself in so long.

Every night, Aquinas flew down from Elendea’s prison to search the world for the one for whom they waited, and every night, he returned with naught by news of the world outside. For centuries, he kept searching, while Elendea watched from her prison above.

“Elendea? I have found him,” was his greeting to her one night, as he entered her tower with a tall young man.

Elendea looked steadily at the stranger for a moment. The ordinary eye would have seen a tall figure with dark, dark hair and kind-looking hazel eyes. A careful observer would have noted that, despite the air of laughter about him, there was also a sense of seriousness to his manner. It was clear that he was not one to back out a promise, nor to go back on his word. But to Elendea, there was still more. He had the look of a kind she had not seen in centuries, not since before her imprisonment; she was certain that he bore the Mark of the Elves.

“Hold out your hand,” she ordered, taking his right hand in hers. While he looked at her in surprise, she took a piece of cloud, dipped it into a bucket of liquid moonlight which suddenly appeared by her feet, and touched it lightly to the palm of his hand, staring intently at his forehead.

The man felt a burning sensation on his forehead, and Elendea took a deep breath.

“Sit down, and let us talk,” she said to him, waving her hand. Instantly, some of the cloud along the wall formed three chairs, in which they all sat.

Elendea continued to look him steadily in the eye. “Let’s begin at the beginning. I am Elendea Lorinia Al’qa Lushir, daughter of Miron Onir Lelnin Lushir, the Fairy King,” she introduced herself, smiling kindly. “And who are you?”

The man just stared at her for a moment, partially out of the shock of meeting a real live fairy princess, before clearing his throat and saying, “I am Tarcisius Marcellinus Augustine Ptolemaeus, son of Alban Kakure Pothinus Ptolemaeus, from Nel’Inar.”

Elendea and Aquinas exchanged a look, through which she questioned and he answered negatively. “I am unfamiliar with Nel’Inar. Please, tell me about it. Where is it?” Elendea asked Tarcisius eagerly.

Tarcisius looked at her bright blue eyes, dark auburn hair, and pale, freckled skin, and could tell that wherever she was from, it was no place of which he knew. “Nel’Inar is a little island in the Southern Ocean. ‘Tis a quiet place, and one of which not many know.”

Elendea sighed in longing. “I wish I could see it,” she whispered softly.

“I could take you,” Tarcisius offered, not unhopefully.

Elendea smiled wistfully. “I wish you could. But I must stay here in my prison, floating high above the world, contenting myself to look down below,” she explained quietly.

Tarcisius kept looking at her, and Elendea realized that if he were truly the one, she would have to trust him.

“You have the Mark; the Elfish blood is within you. Sit, and listen to my story,” she said, although by now, Tarcisius felt he had to find out about this strange person regardless of whether or not she told him to listen.

“Many centuries ago, I do not remember how long it has been, I lived on the surface world below. I was one of the fairy folk, as I believe I mentioned when I introduced myself. We were happy but for one shadow in our world: we were at constant war with the Elves, who lived on the other side of the river. Hundreds, if not thousands, of both our peoples were lost in the wars.

“And yet, despite this, we were happy. I grew up carefree and innocent, relatively unconcerned about the affairs of the adults. We, both fairies and elves, had a “No Child Involvement” agreement, meaning that children could play wherever we wished and be friends with whomever we wanted. Thus, I had many elfish friends, and played often in your lands.

“It was to be expected, then, that some of the fairy and elfish children would grow up to marry, and although not common, such couples were left in relative peace. Because of this, I had hope that when my childhood friend, Endolo,” here she faltered for a moment, as if saying even the name left her in pain, “and I chose to spend our lives together, that we could be left in peace. Alas, this was not to be, for, unknown to us, the seal of the “No Child Involvement” agreement was that the next Fairy-princess was to be wed to the Elf-king, as an offering of goodwill towards future peace. Sadly for us, this meant that I was already promised to the Elf-king, and no matter how much I wished it, I could not back out of this arrangement.” Elendea fell silent, lost in her recollection and the sorrow of that time.

“Was he very horrible?” Tarcisius asked, after several minutes had passed and Elendea made no sign of continuing.

Elendea looked up, startled. She had forgotten he was there. She saw Aquinas smiling kindly at her, and reaching out to stroke her friend, continued. “No, he was actually very kind to me. I would have been fond of him, if not for two slight problems. The Elf-king was 90 years older than I; he was 106 at the time I was to wed him at 16, and he simply could not be Endolo. I pleaded with my father, begged him to reconsider, but he could not, and I understood him even then. A fairy does not back out of his word. We stick to our agreements, our promise is binding. I was promised to the Elf-king, and to the Elf-king I was to wed.

“But my father underestimated me. As determined as he was that I should fulfill the agreement with the elves, I was equally determined to get out of it. I had chosen Endolo, and neither of us could help that our peoples hated each other. But I contrived a plan, and so I played along with my father’s wishes until the night before the wedding, when I drugged my handmaidens and escaped from the palace. I fled into the mountains, where Endolo was waiting for me, and together we set out to escape the territories of our warring families. But we forgot one detail: the tracking skills of the elves. ‘Twas not long before the Elf-king himself was upon us, ready to drag me back home and kill Endolo for supposedly kidnapping his bride. In a brilliant battle, Endolo slew the Elf-king, thus earning for himself the title of the Elf-king.”

Elendea paused for breath before continuing, visibly distressed at recalling the events of long ago.

“But when we returned home, triumphant in finally not only being allowed, but obligated, to marry, Endolo did the unthinkable. In the presence of the fairy and elven courts, he renounced his right to marry the eldest Fairy-princess. Soon after, he chose for himself an elfish girl, someone whom I had never met. In my anger, I took up my bow, knocked an arrow, and shot it straight into his heart.

“In punishment, my father locked me away in this tower, built of clouds and moonlight, to lie in wait for one of elfish blood to come to forgive me and fulfill the agreement of our peoples. Long have I waited, and in that time, the wars destroyed all that was left of both the fairies and the elves. Even so, I am bound to this tower by my father’s powerful magic; if I attempt to leave before receiving the forgiveness and promise of an elf, I shall turn into a mosquito, a spell which can never be reversed.” Elendea turned her eyes up from the spot on the floor she had been staring at and looked at Tarcisius steadily in the eye, still stroking Aquinas.

Tarcisius cleared his throat. “It’s not that I don’t want to help you,” he said, “but you’re telling me I need to marry you, and I only just met you!” He really didn’t know what to make of what was happening. He would have been inclined to believe it all a dream, if not for the burning on his forehead, the “Mark” of the elves, if what Elendea was saying was the truth. And he had no reason to doubt her, after all, she had never before lied to him.

“If I leave, can I ever come back?” he asked cautiously.

Elendea gazed at him with tears in her eyes. “No” she whispered.

“If I do this, I am giving up everything I had ever planned for myself. I will potentially change my entire life, for someone I just met,” he faltered, not sure what he was trying to say.

Elendea stared steadily into his eyes. “I understand if there is someone else in your life. I do not ask you to do to someone what was done to me, only to consider fulfilling the agreement between our peoples, an oath sworn but never honored.”

Tarcisius laughed suddenly. “Elendea, I can’t. I am not the Elf-king!” he exclaimed, both relieved and strangely saddened by this turn of events. She really was a very beautiful person, and he felt oddly disturbed at the thought of never seeing her again.

Aquinas shook his head.

“No, Tarcisius Marcellinus Augustine Ptolemaeus, Aquinas has seen that of all the inhabitants of this world, your blood is the strongest Elfish left. If there is an Elf-king, you are he.” She told him solemnly.

Tarcisius took a deep breath. He had never felt so nervous in his life, but if what Elendea said was true, he had a duty to fulfill that oath; he didn’t want it to be known that Elves were oath-breakers. “Take my hand,” he whispered, holding out his hand.

Elendea smiled at him. “Thank you,” she murmured, placing her hand in his.

Aquinas stood before them, and carefully, they stepped on to his back. Gently, he brought them down to the ground, and carefully, Elendea stepped once more onto the Earth.

She looked at Tarcisius and smiled, and suddenly, a crown appeared on each of their heads, crowns made of solid moonlight and light as clouds.