It is fair to ask. No, more than that, it is humanΒ to want to understand, to define, to know another. It is not a request that should surprise the fey creature, and yet for a moment, he seems to still. Freezes, as if he were a painting β timeless, motionless, trapped in a single moment in time. To be understood is a strange thing. His kind are not to be understood or known, they are only to be admired, to marvel at, to be enjoyed. He releases Melleβs face, tearing his eyes away.
βYou ask to know the unknown
such a thing is not easily done.β
A fey is as a dream, an illusion; something close yet never to be touched, grasped, or captured. The reason they left the humans they thought so queer and fun, is because they wanted to pin them down, classify and dissect, predict and chain them into books, with language and rules and words. But touch an illusion and it will burst, make a dream reality and it fades. Fintan has always been more fae than human. Is there a small part of him then, that can be understood, if even a little? He dances, spinning a whirlwind of words with his turns.
β A far-way dream, a cloud of mist, sea-foam drifting on a wave.
an illusion is only seen with naked eye;
if you touched it, it would die.
Queer, strange, forever bizarre,
that is what we are.β
And if he could be understood, how would he say it? He does not know. Even Fintan does not understand himself β why he does what he does, is the way he is. The beauty in his kind is in their mystery; to take that mystery away, or define it, would be a loss of his identity.Β Β
ββwhat is half of a whole, if two makes one?
are you elf or djinn or neither one;
and I mortal or sprite or a love-tale spun?
a riddle is only a riddle, if unsolved.
you want to learn what is behind this locked door?β
He places a hand on his own chest β an imitation of what humans do, when they speak of selves, of souls, of hearts. And suddenly his gaze is clear, direct, and his words no longer sung, but spoken with a melancholy calm.
ββ¦but there is no key, Melle. There is only what I am in this moment.
I wish to give you what you want, but the answer lies not with me.β
He tilts his head, posing the question back to him:Β
βHow can I make you understand?β He holds out his hands, they are empty.Β βI have no words or songs to define myself.β
β° For a moment, the half-elf is worried he might have caused some sort of offence, mayhap even dared to disappoint, spoil the childlike fun of the Faeβ¦ Alas, his doubt dispels as soon as Fintan starts speaking again, Melleβs fears laid to rest and his attention fully hanging on every spoken word.
βYou could say I am both and neither one, but that makes the difference between how I see myself and how others see me. A mortal defines me as mortal, unaware of what or who I am, a djinn will see me as their kind, until a closer look will tell them something is amissβ¦ As for the elf, I may be not ever seen as fully one, not of a pure lineage, and yet traits of it are within my blood, undeniably there and their values present. And, as a last offence to this entire definition, I grew up within humans, their values ingrained, memories I hold dearest always having them contained withinβ¦ So, both and neither, but something in between for sureβ¦ Doesnβt make much sense, does it?β
Itβs easy for the half-elf to describe his nature, for his inspiration lies within the words mortals have thrown his way; the picture gradually completed when one wonders if only for a moment, and even so, a full definition can not be given β thus why it was not such a detailed composition he was expecting as an answer either.
βYou may not, but I think I have some. To me, you are Fintan, a Fae with child-like wonder and wisdom beyond belief, a Fae beautiful as all Fae are, a lover of riddles and curious things, a wanderer and an immortal, a challenger, a denier of conformity, easily ignorant of human customs as they are of no use to youβ¦ And, between it all, to me you are Fintan, my friend. That is how I understand you, the question is, however, if my perception comes even close to something you would see as true.β β±
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