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Dranian Evelry and How it all Began in Ashi-Calla Village, Part I

She was the childling girl with no name. If she had one, she refused to tell a soul what it was. Most of the fairy folk referred to her as "her" or " that girl."

Even though she had grown up in Ashi-Calla amidst the forest fae, she was a mystery to everyone. Her long black hair seemed just a little too luminous. Her eyes a little too bright and green. Her skin too soft and fair. Features that made the young females jealous and the young males intimidated. She was a girl with a secret, supposedly the daughter of a quiet woman who never left her house and the blacksmith who had gone missing days after she was born. A girl with too much power at her fingertips—or so the fairy elders claimed. A girl who should never be trusted; for when the girl locked eyes with certain villagers, they whispered later they thought they were cursed.

"A land siren , " they called her. A creature that should have stayed at the bottom of the Twilight Lakes where it belonged.

Many in the village avoided her, evaded speaking to her. Most pretended she didn't exist.

Dranian was barely older than the girl, but he'd heard the rumours, and so at ten years old he kept away from her like everybody else. But like her, he remained invisible to the forest fae locals. He maintained his core duties, keeping to the edge of the village and serving the merchants at the docks to collect a few coins every month. Most evenings he swam in the crystal green lagoon to pass the time, to keep away his worries, and to avoid going home to face the father who didn't want him.

That was, until the day he witnessed the girl drowning.

Whether she'd slipped down the muddy slope into the river, or had jumped in herself to fetch a fish, he wasn't sure. But when Dranian came upon a young fairy fighting for her life against the current, he dropped his merchant buckets, shed his cloak, and dove into the silver waters, using the strength he'd built up on the docks to paddle against the rush.

She was too thin. Much too thin to battle the water herself. This was what went through Dranian's mind when he watched the girl give up her fight and slide beneath the surface, choosing to let the water take her as its victim after all. She mustn't have seen Dranian coming. She couldn't have noticed the pleading look upon his face—the scolding for giving up, the begging to hold on just one second more.

"I'm coming!" he tried to shout beneath the water, but the river muffled all sound.

He wrapped his arms around her middle and soared toward the surface, breaking through with a gasp. She was a limp doll in his arms as he paddled toward the shore, dragging her along with him. When he reached the mud, he hauled her up, leaned over her, and pressed his mouth against hers to bring her back to life—the way he had learned to do after one of his fellow merchant workers had fallen into the lake last year.

During the entire incident, he did not realize who the childling girl was. And perhaps it was by the meddling of the sky deities, for he might not have jumped into the river had he known.

It wasn't until she jolted, her body awakening and searching for air, that he pulled his mouth from hers and looked upon her face for the first time. Water spurted from her lips, and she spat it to the side as her chest pumped, as her faeborn will to live returned. When she drew her bright green gaze back and beheld him, Dranian felt an icy ribbon coil around his spine as it dawned on him who she was.

Water dripped off the ends of his hair and onto her forehead directly below. She looked more startled than anything. His arm was still wound snugly around her waist, holding her to him. He was crushing her into the mud.

He sprang back, but at least he had the decency to lift her with him to a sitting position. He tried to find an excuse to leave, but he'd never been quick with words. And also…

Perhaps he was a bit startled to find she didn't look dangerous like the forest fae claimed. Rather, the girl with no name was undoubtedly beautiful up close. It was the first time Dranian asked himself why the fairies in the village avoided her. The first time he wondered if maybe they had it all wrong.

But he was shaken from his study when a twig snapped in the forest beyond the mud shore. Dranian's gaze shot up to find a hogbeast—the largest one he'd ever laid eyes upon—inching through the woods toward them with its hungry eyes set on the girl's back. Dranian's heart skipped, his chest tightening as the beast snarled.

He was not afraid to die—he knew that much. But perhaps he was a little afraid to be eaten alive.

His hand went to his back pocket to find the half-sized spear he'd spent his last month's coin on. He tried to draw it out, but his hands shook.

"No… No, don't do this…" he whispered to himself, to his own body, to his wretched hands. His breaths turned ragged, and he cursed his condition, knowing it would only worsen. Knowing he was about to lose control of himself any second now. And so, he said to the childling girl, "Run. You should live."

Her eyes widened. It didn't seem to be in fear though—it was more like he'd said something profound.

Dranian used his last effort to press the handle of his half-spear into her palm with trembling hands so she might defend herself if the beast chased her. He kept his eyes set on the snarling hog whose snout was just feet away, whose low growl was almost close enough to feel the heat of. His thoughts tipped off the edge of a familiar cliff, leaving him blank. Leaving him useless. He began to crumple.

The girl startled him by drawing the spear to life from its handle. She stood and turned in one motion.

Dranian was almost too far gone in his fit to acknowledge that she collided with the hogbeast, shoving the tip of his spear into its throat like a hunter. The loud hog squeals filled the woods.

Dranian couldn't remember much after that, but he was vaguely aware of collapsing and feeling her sit in the mud beside him with splashed hogbeast blood up her arms. "Dream now," she soothed, dropping his spear handle into the mud. "I'll help you."

She placed a hand upon his forehead, and his body filled with tiredness. For several seconds he tried to fight it. But it was no use.

He passed out against his will, the spinning forces of his mind slowing, the chaotic torrent of noise and madness that became too much to bear, that had always ruined everything, that had made his own father think him worth nothing, meeting sudden rest.

A soft voice, a young one, entered his dream.

"Don't worry. I'm here," she said. "You don't have to let me in. I'll just stay on the outer rim of your dream for a while to keep nightmares at bay. I can't say anything important from the outer rim though; the rules of dreams are immovable on that. But I'll do my best to ensure you sleep well."

Dranian was about to respond to her in his mind, to ask who she was and how she was doing such a thing, but she cut him off.

"Don't speak," she warned. "Don't ever respond to a voice that enters your dreams. Not unless you want a stranger to take control of your slumbers. Not every dreamslipper is trustworthy—most will hurt you for their own gain if they get control."

Her voice was remarkably soft, and he had to admit, lovely. It reminded him of delicate flowers, and a cool wind on a hot day, and warm baths in the snowy seasons. Because of this, Dranian found himself sleeping soundly for quite some time.

When he awoke, the stars were high in the sky. Moonbugs crawled along the shore, and his spear was missing from the mud beside him. He calculated the time by counting the stars and examining the night shadows.

Fifteen hours had passed.

The childling girl without a name was nowhere in sight.

Dranian spent three days searching for her. He looked for her on the forest paths, he kept an eye out for her on the village roads. He even took an extra trip to the blacksmith shop, even though rumour had it the place had been closed down for years. He wondered if he should give up trying to find her, if perhaps she had left the village.

Maybe the hogbeast had eaten her.

Dranian's stomach dropped as he considered that. He wasn't sure what he had truly seen when he was crumbling in panic—if he'd fabricated the vision of her slaying the beast. He hadn't thought to look around for traces of fairy remains when he woke up, and there was no rotting hogbeast body either.

He could not stop rubbing his head. It was as though something was inside it that shouldn't be there. An itch he could not satisfy by scratching. He'd had the strangest dream on the mud shore, and for a reason he couldn't determine, he felt like only she might have an explanation.

Also, she'd stolen his spear.

He finally came upon her at a village-wide dance in the forest hall. Dranian rarely went to such things, but he was too afraid of his father's retaliation if he did not show up this time. He'd already suffered the man's wrath for missing an entire day of work on the docks while he'd been sleeping in the mud.

Dranian was the youngest one of his seven siblings, and the only one forced to stay away from the house all day, seven days a week. The only one his family wished would just not come home at all.

The forest hall was made of spindly branches woven with braids of ivy and glass blossoms, giving off the deep aroma of freshly cut wood and spring grass. Fiddles and harps lined the far wall where musicians joined in the song at will that would only burn out at sunrise. Fairies grabbed unsuspecting partners by the hands and dragged them into the middle to dance, each couple clothed in white with tassels and lace, shifting into forms of forest animals and mimicking the long poses of tree branches to praise the favour of the sky deities on the village.

Most ignored the childling girl when she entered, but Dranian's gaze shot up from across the room like he sensed her arrival. He lowered his wooden cup of syrup water without taking a drink, watching as villagers made a wide space around the girl wherever she went. For the most part, she kept to the edge of the forest hall. She seemed uninterested in dancing.

Dranian set down his cup and rounded the table to go after her before she could escape again. She was so easily lost in the crowd with her slenderness and awareness of how the folk around her shifted. It was like she was practiced at blending in, at making people forget she was present.

Just like him.

Dranian caught her by the wrist before she could slip out of sight, before she could disappear for three more days and leave him wondering. Two fairies pushed into his path, meeting up and laughing about something together, cutting him off from the girl apart from the grip he had on her dainty wrist between them. And so, he tugged her to him. She flew right between the fairy pair and into his chest where he caught her, flexing so they would not topple over.

He was hit by the brightness of her eyes all over again when she blinked up at him. She was slightly taller than he expected, and her mouth hovered rather close to his, putting an odd flutter in his ribs. He swallowed and tried to come up with words appropriate for a situation where he'd just grabbed a female without justification and yanked her to him.

"I shall explain," he promised, but that was it. He had no actual explanation for his behaviour.

"What are they doing?" a fairy to his left asked, loudly enough to turn heads. Dranian looked over, spotting several of his father's forever-friends present. Fairies who would report him for being this close to the dangerous village girl with no name and bringing further shame to his family. Dranian's chest deflated. He thought about running away before he could feel the fear of it, before it dawned on him that he would be in trouble and he might fall into a "fit."

Two hands came against his stomach and shoved him backward.

Dranian sailed four steps away from the girl. He looked back at her in alarm, questioning why she'd thrust him so abruptly, but as soon as the gap was wide between them, the onlooking fairies lost interest, and the tightness left his chest.

Oblivious fairies swished into the space where they'd been, carrying on with their evening. Past them, Dranian could see the girl was still looking at him. Her gaze remained steady, even as the sight of her was broken up by those who passed. Dranian could not help but stare back.

She smiled.

Sky deities… His faeborn heart flipped inside of him. Her smile was amused—in a comradery sort of way. It made him want to laugh for a reason he couldn't fathom. He thought himself incapable of ever mustering such an emotion or expression, but then…

"What are you smiling at like a fool?"

Dranian's gaze snapped over to his eldest sister, Loriah. Loriah's auburn hair was braided thrice over; tiny knots woven into bigger braids, and one big braid to hold them all. Her pale green eyes took him in with suspicion. "I've never seen you smile in my faeborn life," she added, glancing over her shoulder in the direction he'd been staring.

Dranian flinched, but when he looked to where the girl with no name had been standing, he found she was gone.

Loriah released a low snarl. "Be careful, Dranian. You know we hate it when you make scenes ," she said, looking him over in disgust. As she left him there, she muttered, "I wish you hadn't come here. You're embarrassing."

That was all the invitation Dranian needed to leave. He swallowed, attempting to let Loriah's words roll off him before they found purchase on his soul. But when he looked around and saw his elder brothers and sisters milling about, carrying pleasant conversations and laughing together, sharing a joy he was not allowed to have, he turned for the arch of branches that would take him out to the evening air, and he headed for the green lagoon.

He stomped over branches and twigs, kicking aside rocks until he got there. He wasn't angry. At least, he wasn't angry at his family. He was angry at himself.

Why had he been born as such a shameful being? Why did he lack the ability to control his illness? Why must he be the one to carry this weight on his shoulders? The sky deities had dealt him the cruellest of cards.

He tore off his shirt even before he reached the lagoon dock. The dark green, crystal waters beckoned him to come cool off.

A voice met him instead.

"The moonbugs are out tonight. You'll get eaten alive if you swim right now."

Dranian spun, his hand flashing to his back pocket where a half-spear should have been. He was startled to realize he recognized the voice. At least, his mind did, even if his ears did not.

There stood the girl with no name, her face glistening silver in the moonlight, her white dress fluttering in the nighttime breeze. His half-spear was in her hand.

Dranian's shoulders relaxed.

"You're not dangerous," he said—finding the ability to speak like he hadn't earlier. He looked her over with fresh eyes, the way he had at the river when he'd seen her features up close. "You're just a girl."

She laughed, and Dranian bit back another smile. He even chuckled—but it sounded strange coming from his mouth. He didn't know how to laugh.

"You're too trusting," she said. "The village is right about me. I am dangerous."

Dranian's smile fell.

"But not to you, Dranian Evelry. In fact, I'd like to protect you," she said.

"Protect me?" He raised a brow. "From whom?" He took an involuntary step backward.

"From all of them," she said, nodding back to the village. "I don't know how I'll do it," she admitted, lifting her hands to study them. "I'm not strong like you. I'm not big or solid or able to fight. But I'll figure that part out."

He almost laughed again. "Why do I need protecting?"

She sighed. "I've been here the whole time, Dranian," she said, speaking his name like they were old friends. "I was always there, even when no one saw me."

Dranian felt the blood drain from his face. He wasn't sure why he assumed no one would remember the things that had happened. The mocking shouts, the heartless, faeborn males and their swatting and hitting and kicking, the way the onlookers all laughed as he seized up.

"I was just a few years old then," he said from a dry throat. "It's been a while since any fool of the village has tried to raise a hand against me."

"Because you got strong," she said. "But it doesn't mean they don't want to. Just because you stay out of sight now doesn't mean one day you won't be put back into their path; and what if they or your family decides to rid the village of you?"

Dranian set his jaw. "Don't speak of my family."

A breeze came in off the lagoon, pushing the girl's black hair back off her shoulders. A second or two passed during which Dranian loathed himself. Because he knew it was obvious. And pathetic.

Pathetic that his family hated him and wanted him gone and wished he was dead.

Yet… he still loved them.

The girl's throat moved as she swallowed. "Dranian," she said in a softer voice this time. Her tone was rich with a story Dranian didn't want to hear. A story about a young boy who, even after all these years, was still waiting for his family to love him back. A boy who would be waiting forever because they never would.

A tear slipped down her fair cheek, running to her jaw and dripping off onto her dress.

Dranian could not believe his eyes, his ears, her . How could she cry over a story that wasn't even her own? He couldn't fathom the idea that she could relate—no one could relate. He'd never met anyone who understood what it felt like to be an outcast to an entire village with not a single exception.

Except… He had been around since the beginning, too. And it ki lled his faeborn soul to realize he had watched the village avoid the girl with no name like she was diseased for all these years. Somehow it had never crossed his mind that he wasn't the only one. That maybe there were others, even beyond her and him. That reaching out to another outcast had been an option all this time on his lonely journey, and he'd never thought to do it.

Dranian turned his back to her. He felt a brush of wet warmth on his face, then cold as the wind chilled the tears he knew mimicked hers.

"Why in the faeborn Corners would you ever want to protect me?" he growled quietly.

It took her a few moments to answer. "Many want me to die. But no one has ever wanted me to live," she said.

It took several moments to muster the courage to move, but when Dranian finally turned back, he looked at her differently. He wondered why anyone had ever decided to fear her in the first place. He couldn't find a single speck of evil upon her.

She approached, extending his half-spear toward him. He didn't take it.

"What is your name?" he asked her instead. "No one seems to know."

The shadow of a smile returned to her face. "I have no name. My father left the day I was born, and my mother is mute. They never gave me one."

Dranian thought about that. Then he glanced down to the half-spear she held. "Keep it," he said. "You should learn to use it if you've decided to become my fairy guard."

"I already know how to use it," she said with a smile. "Didn't you see me kill the hogbeast?"

He blinked, then he snorted. Apparently, he hadn't been hallucinating by the river. "That was luck," he said, certain.

She laughed, and every part of his cold, steel-hard soul began to warm.