Fae Fiefdom - M. Sinclair Page 0,5
no one left to go to college. It was just ‘normal’ to stay and work in town. I wasn’t saying there was anything wrong with that but it was odd. Maybe it was that lack of pressure to get into a college that made them all such good students?
Didn’t matter either way in the end to me. I was leaving. I had been accepted into Trinity University, in Ireland, for Linguistics. I didn’t want to brag, but I was a fairly talented human being. Sure, I had a few more tattoos than most students at my school, I was blunt, and didn’t always put up with bullshit…but I was also a gifted equestrian competitor, a fantastic harpist, and I knew twelve languages. So screw anyone who wanted to say that I was a black sheep of the family. Last time I checked, my future was looking pretty bright.
By the way, if you were wondering: English, French, Italian, Mandarin Chinese, Japanese, Spanish, Arabic, Russian, Hindi, Swahili, Portuguese, and sign language. Okay, so the last one wasn’t spoken, but still, you get my point. I knew shit. Plus, on top of all that, it wasn’t like anyone was going to miss me around here.
One aspect of my childhood that I remembered pretty well was how alive our estate used to feel. The elaborate hand-painted ceilings and crafted molding, candles that burned warmly at night, and expensive plush furniture that I could fall into after a day of playing outside.
My favorite memory? The soft flute and harp music that used to play all throughout the day and the delicate smell of roses from the garden floating in through my nursery window. I shouldn’t have been able to remember that and maybe it wasn’t real.
Maybe I did that to justify why I disliked the house now.
Shadowed, dark, and filled with sadness. That was why I spent so much time outside, because no matter if there was snow on the ground or it was burning hot…the garden always had year-round roses. Which obviously wasn’t normal.
It was beautiful though, blood-red and nearly black velvet roses, that highlighted the lush thick green of the large tall walls of the maze that expanded west of our estate. The entrance of the maze was led into by a path of the delicate flowers, and they arched over the entrance, hanging almost like blood dripping from the thorny stems. This was my escape. This was my connection to life.
I let my hands trail along the bushes, not even wincing as blood was drawn on the thorns, tiny scars littering my fingers from the habit. I watched as tiny droplets fell into the earth and I could almost feel the ground shudder, a hard wind brushing over me. I inhaled the scent of roses, and thunder rolled above me, threatening a storm.
I thought someone called my name, but I was almost two turns in and I knew they wouldn’t come out here to find me. I had not one idea why all three of them avoided entering…well, except that this had been my mother’s sanctuary. I wanted to believe it was out of respect but I think they were scared. Terrified of the very vibrant and intense feeling of my mother’s energy that grew around me as I delved further into the maze.
I had called it magic for so long, but now that I was an adult it sounded silly. That was what my stepmother had called me every time I had woken up crying because of a nightmare. Every time I told her about the shadows following me. About the plants that bent and swayed as I walked past them, staring at me when no one was around. Each small creature of the dark would whisper my name.
Silly.
All of this had made me a silly little girl in her mind, and the more she said it, the more I believed it. Well, until recently. Until I started to accept that I wasn’t crazy…that maybe, just maybe there was something different about me and this town. I knew I should open my mind to it and see if those creatures would speak again. See if this magic was as real as it felt, like electricity through my very bones.
The maze was complicated, with twists and turns that felt as though they changed every time I went through them. Maybe they did. Yet, no matter how complicated, I always found my way in and out of the center. It was the perfect