This is a short story about a tear in the portal of the realm of the Fae and our world. Strange creatures are seen that should not be visible to ordinary folk.
Abby loved Ostara, it was one of her favourite festivals. Apart from scoffing chocolate eggs, she loved the fresh scent of the earth, and new growth blossoming everywhere.
She had made an altar at the foot of a Weeping Willow tree in her garden. Abby always left offerings to the Lord and Lady, and treats for the Faeries to thank them for their guidance, friendship and help with her dad’s garden. Everything he grew was the best in the village, and it was all thanks to the Faeries tending to the plants.
Tonight as a special treat for Ostara, Abby left a tiny glass of honey – a favourite of the Fae – and a nice green apple, cut through the middle to reveal a star-shape like a pentacle in the middle. She left them at the altar, and then recited a charm and sang a little song that she knew the Faeries loved. She realised she was being watched, but not by the Fae.
‘Matt, will you quit spying on me. It’s creepy!’ she said to her next-door neighbour.
At eighteen, Matt was a year older than Abby, and they had quickly become friends when Abby’s parents bought the cottage ten years ago. Matt liked Abby because she took him for who he was, not at all surprised with his Goth look. She never judged anyone. Abby knew Matt had a heart of gold and would help anybody, and those in the village were used to him.
‘I wondered what all of that racket was!’ teased Matt. ‘You know I love to watch you work, I can feel the energy coming from it. It’s wicked!’
‘It’s better when I work alone,’ said Abby. ‘Sometimes they appear to me, and I don’t want to lose that gift, or their trust,’ she explained.
The next morning, as a way of apology, Matt gave Abby a clear quartz crystal for her altar.
‘Thank you Matt, it’s beautiful. The Fae will love it,’ she smiled.
‘You’re welcome,’ smiled Matt. He hesitated for a second, before asking Abby ‘do you really see them, Faeries I mean? I know a lot of people believe in them, but I don’t know if they really exist.’
‘Yes I do see them Matt. They exist, but only show to very few people. And it’s a rare privilege that has to be held sacred to those they trust,’ Abby explained.
Abby walked the mile long journey to college alone. It gave her time to ponder without interruption, and to think of rituals and workings she could use. She didn’t notice anything unusual at first, but then she began to notice that people were behaving very nervously. They were very jumpy and shouting out in surprise at something.
‘What the hell was that? It’s ugly, whatever it is!’ yelled a man nearby.
The same scene greeted Abby when she arrived at college. To say it was chaotic was an understatement.
‘What’s going on?’ Abby asked when she saw John Simmons from her lecture group.
‘Don’t you see them? I don’t know what was in that joint Dave gave me, but I’m seeing Faeries and Elves and the weirdest creatures I never want to clap eyes on again! And I don’t mean Disney type. This is the last joint I smoke.’ He ran off before Abby could reply.
Abby’s blood ran cold. She had thought that there had been more Fae than usual showing up, but they should never be visible to everyone. Something was very wrong.
She ran home, giving the excuse of a migraine. When she got home, waiting for Abby in her bedroom was her Faery guardian, and the exquisite creature was extremely anxious, flitting about the room.
‘Bramble, what’s happened? The Fae are being seen by everyone!’
Bramble flew close to Abby’s ear so she would hear her.
‘Someone has carelessly used a charm, and it’s torn a hole in the portal between our realms. If it’s not closed quickly, it will destroy both of our worlds. The Realms should never mix, ever. You must find a way to close the tear, and destroy the spell so it can’t be used again. Our Queen has put her trust in you, she said you have more powers than you know,’ said Bramble.
Abby panicked. ‘Where do I look?’ she whispered.
‘Trust your instincts Abby. Ask the Old Ones for help, they will guide you.’ Then Bramble flew off before Abby could ask more questions. Abby went to her altar and lit a candle to help her concentrate. Once she was sat in a comfortable position, she began to meditate.
‘Old Ones guide me; show me how to save the Realms. I can’t do it on my own. I need your help, please!’ she pleaded.
Suddenly, Abby’s mind filled with images, jumbled at first, but then clearing. She saw a young man, Paul Booth that she knew from college, and he held an ancient looking Book of Shadows. He was sat in a clearing, Abby recognised the woodland. Paul sat in the middle of a salt pentagram and was surrounded by a circle of candles. Abby caught a glimpse of the page he was chanting from.
Abby heard a male voice, barely more than a whisper, in her mind.
‘Read the chant backwards, and cleans the clearing with Rosemary and Sage at the same time.’
Abby knew where Paul lived, and could catch him before he left for noon lectures if she ran. He was just stepping out of the front door when she arrived.
‘Where’s the book Paul? Abby asked frantically.
‘What book?’ asked Paul, surprised.
‘The Book of Shadows you used in your ritual when you were in the woods. You don’t know what you’ve done, do you?’ cried Abby.
She made Paul bring the book with them, while Abby explained everything on the way to the woods. He admitted experimenting with his grandmother’s Book of Shadows. Paul was devastated by what he’d done, and he promised Abby he would ask his grandmother to teach him the craft under her strict supervision.
Abby felt energy surrounding her in the clearing. She felt the presence of the Old Ones at her side. Her confidence soared. She read the chant backwards out loud as instructed and heard them chanting with her. She scattered Rosemary and Sage all over the ground at the same time. The energy built to an almost unbearable level. Suddenly, the tear became visible, and Fae of all kinds rushed through to the other side. Then the tear was surrounded by a golden glow and began to close. The light faded and the tear was gone.
‘You’ve done it!’ whispered Paul. ‘That was awesome.’
‘Never tell anyone what you’ve witnessed, about my powers or about my path,’ warned Abby.
‘I won’t,’ he promised. ‘I wouldn’t want to cross you with that power behind you. Besides, I may want to pick your brains, and I don’t want anyone to know I’m a Witch either.’
Later that night, Abby left an extra offering of honey for the Faeries at her altar on Paul’s behalf, as a way of apology. The Fae had a surprise of their own. The Queen herself had appeared and thanked Abby for her help, something that Abby would never forget.