From a Distance, the Fairelands Realm of Elemaria looks stately, doesn’t it? I suppose that’s why I, Your Fae Queen, was drawn to it. I do love castles. And as I’ve been absent from my own Realm for some months now, I was looking forward, when I first arrived at the Great Faire (regrettably late this year for reasons beyond my control), to walking the stately halls and pathways of a good, old-fashioned castle.
And it’s true, the pathways are stately, and the bridges are divine, and the views out over the sea are spectacular. And I don’t even need to mention the shopping to you: if you’re here are the Faire, you know that there is nothing better than Fairelands shopping. A balm to soothe the soul, I think, is shopping. If I ever get to the point where I’m tired of ball gowns and flowing skirts, just take me back to Awenia Faerie and turn me into a statue.
It was indeed sunny, a perfect day in early May, and so close to The Author’s birthday. I spent only a little while exploring the bridges and pathways (and possibly buying an entirely new spring wardrobe), but then the seemingly endless gardens called, and so that’s where I found myself, just at midmorning. Continue reading A Conspiracy in Elemaria?→
Will you know it? Will you know that moment, the one where Fate turns? So many folk, they don’t know it, even when they look back on it. If only, they think, if only I had known. If only my fate had made itself more clear to me.
Look, folks. She is going to come in here in a couple days and tell you she’s had some kind of revelation. Me, I’m just happy to be on tap to serve the Fairelands once again this year. Realms participating run the gamut, but as my first day in the Fairelands as an official watcher happened to be last night, I was happy to be assigned first to Lunafae, where there was sure to be a lovely Beltane gathering.
There are whispers through the mists. A voice. A song. A beckoning. And you, you’re curious, aren’t you? The oaks, the mosses, the softly turning swamp itself, each with its own voice, may call you. You may hear whispers of a more dangerous kind; the slough itself has its own voice, doesn’t it? Or are these just the voices in your head? There must be some way to tell for sure.
Just behind you, the moss whispers. It can only be the wind. Yes, yes; it must be the wind. But a voice. A voice like reed pipes. The sort of voice that slips just under audible: unintelligible but unmistakably there. What is it saying? What is she saying? What are they saying?
Now, with each soft sound combining, it’s as if the realm itself is alive, alive with something that wants you to find it.
You could choose the safe path, stick to the boardwalks, enjoy the views from where you are—but why would you? Why would you, when each choice may lead you closer and closer to an answer…. one way or another.
The Lamented Fens Quest opens tomorrow, 29 April. Many choices. Multiple endings. Certain death.