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It is not recommended one is caught out on the English moor at night. And it is doubly said to stay away from Stonehenge at night, for it is well known that the dark faerie court resides there, and shows their faces only in the inky dark of midnight. But I -- yes, I! -- have been to their secret city of Estonhenj, and I -- yes, I! -- have lived. But what I tell you cannot be told to anyone else – no one!-- not a soul. Do you promise? Yes? You promise?
Well. I was a youth, much like yourself, sixteen and headstrong as could be. Stubborn, inquisitive, reckless, I broke rules, yes I did! But the curfew was the one rule I always obeyed. Foolish I may have been, but I had no desire to get myself spirited away by the faeries and who-knows-what-else that were out there.
One day, I was roaming the moor, but staying away from Stonehenge – for it is a fearful place even in daylight – when suddenly I looked around and it was pitch black. It was as if the very sun had been winked out before my eyes! I tried to run, but I found my feet were stuck fast among the purple heather, and already the curfew bell was clanging. I was scared, I admit it freely, and you would be too – what? You say you wouldn't? I was a boastful braggart once, but I was terrified of what would happen to me then. Someday, you'll be in a tight squeeze, and you'll admit it too – you'll be scared.
Now, hmm, where was I? Ah, you've made me lose my place! If you want to hear a story, don't be interrupting the storyteller, or you'll be hearing owt but scolding and no story at all. My feet were stuck – that's where I were, yes? All right then.
Since my feet were stuck, and the gates of my village had closed, there was really nothing I could do but stand there! So I stood there, shivering – for it was mighty cold, even for October – and staring at the great stones of Stonehenge. For that's where I was stuck. Ah, now you're losing your bravado, aren't you? You know you'd be scared too!
I was standing there, when I smelled a smoke – it was very pitch dark, black as the Earl of Hell's waistcoat – and saw a candle. Just floating, there, a candle! There was no hand holding the candle, and it must've been a faerie candle, for it burned at both ends. The top was aflame and the bottom was too, and I could see all the wax dripping off the bottom into the heather below.
Very soon after the candle appeared, I could see figures coming up behind it. Yes, I thought of ghosts, and yes, I thought of faeries, but there was nothing I could do. My feet were still stuck tight! So I waited, waited, as the things came closer, and closed my eyes once or few times, but each time the brightness of the candle forced them open, and made me look. The candle was almost in my face now, and I could feel it – but it wasn't hot. It was cold, freezing cold, colder than the October night on the English moor.
I could tell the things were faeries now, and they were very beautiful. I cannot describe them – their's was a beauty that felt like it almost wasn't meant to be, for it was an evil beauty too. These were the faeries of Estonhenj, there was no doubt.
The leader of them, their Queen, came up to me and stared me right in the face. She whispered something, and I could barely hear it – just barely. It sounded like Sainmhiniú, but I couldn't tell. I was just too terrified.
Well, I barely remember the next part. I was taken underground, to Estonhenj, and the faeries questioned me in their tongue, and I couldn't answer, and – what did it sound like? I dinnae remember, and what did I tell you about interrupting the storyteller? – then I saw their king and queen and they leered at me with their evil eyes. They turned and talked to the other faeries a lot, discussing me, I guessed, but I couldn't tell what they said. It seemed that they didn't quite like me, and I can't say I felt differently about them! But their Queen came up to me again – she seemed to be the one running this whole thing – and struck me right in the middle of my head, between my eyes. Everything went pitch black again, and the next thing I know, I'm in my own bed, in the village, and everyone wants to know where I ran off to!
They say that someone else went missing last year, from the next village over. Well, maybe I know where she is, but I know enough about faeries to know that she won't be back unless they give her up. I was one of the lucky ones. We'll have to wait and see.
burning_eyes
