Alone, the girl walked into the dark dark woods that backed up against her family's house. Even though the deep quiet of the forest was scary to some, she felt no fear, taking her usual path between the tall trees. She liked the peace she felt here, and no one ever questioned where she went, believing these woods safe. The forest gave her a respite from people, from her quarrelsome family and from scary men with rough hands and from all of those that just saw what they wanted to in her. In the shade of the trees, she could breathe and just be.
This day, she was especially craving the relief that her solitary walks brought her. Her father was a complicated man, and a good one, she believed, but he was hard, so hard on her and her sisters. He demanded perfection from his children in all ways, and was hurtful to them when he believed they had failed him. The girl was 13, and the middle child - a brilliant but uncaring student and the reluctant peacemaker of the family. Her father was hardest on her, for he saw the most in her, and she tried not to let him down. She wished her youngest sister did better in school; she was smart, and because her grades did not reflect this, their father frequently punished her for what he saw as her disrespect. The girl suspected that her sister had something wrong with her, because she knew how hard she worked at school. Her grades never reflected this, though, and as usual when she brought home an unacceptable mark, her father was currently yelling at her while her mother ignored the whole thing and her big sister hid away in her room. She would normally be in the thick of it, defending her crying sister and imploring her mother to try to calm her father down. Today, though, she felt the forest call to her, powerful and mysterious, and like nothing she had ever felt before. She snuck out of the crowded house and headed into the trees, glad for the respite from the squabbling and and the rough feelings of her family.
She saw her favorite tree up ahead, the one she often climbed, and quickened her pace to get to it. She slowed with a gasp, noticing that her tree was not unoccupied, and then stopped altogether. There, on one of the lowest limbs, sat a small boy with the ears and tail of a fox. He was wearing rough black trousers that were faded with age and a grey shirt, and was barefoot. The word came to her immediately: puka. She wasn't sure how she knew it, but she knew this was one of the mystical creatures she had heard tales of all her young life. The tales were told as folk stories, myths to scare children into behaving, or so she believed. She tried to think about what to do. It had seen her, and was doubtless faster than her, so running was out of the question. Most of the stories had painted the shape-shifting puka as harmless pranksters, but other tales showed them to be darker, more dangerous creatures.
The puka had shaggy black hair, and watched her warily. She was close enough to see his eyes, yellow as the sun, and the tear tracks down his face. As she stood there staring, a raucous cry rang out, and with a flurry of wings, a magpie landed gracefully in the tree. The bird was careful to keep the trunk between itself and the young changeling. The three took turns eyeing each other until finally the magpie spoke. "Greetings, young ones", the bird boomed. The girl jumped in shock, and the puka child grabbed the branch to keep from falling. "It seems we have a dilemma".
It was almost too much for the girl, and she sat down heavily, trying to calm her breathing. The magpie noticed her distress. "Dear me, I'm sorry. Where are my manners?", the bird spoke quickly, its voice rough and devoid of inflection. The girl wasn't looking at the magpie this time while it was talking, but at the forest floor, and had the oddest sensation of a woman speaking to her. She could almost picture her - pale skin, dark hair pulled back, black dress with red running through it. With her attention still on the roots in front of her, the girl shakily asked, "who are you?"
At her question, the bird stilled, then cocked its head and looked at her intently. "Ah", it said, speaking strangely slowly, "you can see me." It glided to the ground in front of the girl, then changed before her eyes to a woman seated on her knees, the woman from her mind. "You may have heard of me", the woman before her said, an Irish accent coloring her speech. "Some call me gwrach y pren, some dugiaeth y werin deg, but you can call me Adara". The girl stared, wide-eyed. The witch of the wood was another of the folk tales she had grown up with, nothing more. But here she was, sitting on the leafy ground, giving the girl a look of fond amusement. Names meant something, and the girl was not about to give hers up so easily. Thinking quickly, she said, "You can call me Neb."
The witch beamed at her, like she had won some sort of prize. "Clever girl. I knew you would be, though. Brave, also, to come into these woods alone. I've been watching you," Adara confided. Then she stood up quickly and looked back at the tree. The puka had not moved, and was looking at the ground with fresh tears running down his cheeks, seemingly oblivious to the scene in front of him.
"As I was saying," she sighed, "we have a dilemma." She walked slowly toward the child, reaching up to touch his leg. "Rhys", she said softly, tugging on his pants to get his attention. He sighed and turned his yellow eyes on her. "Can you say 'hello' to our new friend?" His light eyes found the girl's dark ones, and he took in her appearance. She had on long pants and beat-up shoes, and had thought to throw on a light jacket as she ran out of the house. She wore glasses, and her dark hair was almost as messy as his. She watched him nervously. He jumped lightly down from the tree limb, and it was then she noticed his feet - they were oddly formed, not quite paws, but definitely not like her own. He padded stiffly over to her, tail and ears low, and stopped in front of her. She was tall for her age, and towered over this small creature. Looking at the ground, he gave her a traditional greeting. "Well met, friend to be." His voice was quiet, but she understood him easily enough. "I am Rhys, of Clan Forest Flight." This prompted a fresh round of tears, and he bowed his head, waiting for her to speak.
"Well met, and you can call me Neb. Are you a puka?" She wasn't sure how she was able to speak so calmly, and thought that maybe she was dreaming. She desperately hoped that her question didn't offend the young one. Even though he was small, he looked more than capable of inflicting damage on her if he chose to do so. "He is, by what your tales say," the witch spoke up. She had moved closer to the two of them, and was eying the boy warily.
"Neb, we...I ask a boon of you", Adara said, then quickly continued, "My story is a long one, and one I will share in time, but for now, know that I am the gaurdian of this forest and all of her fae children. Once upon a time, in another land, I sought power from the fae, and was given such, but with it came with never-ending responsibility. Part of this responsibility is teaching fae new to the realm the rules that we like-minded non-humans abide by. As time goes on, my forest is shrinking, and the danger to my charges grows. It is imperative that I teach Rhys what is and is not acceptable before there is more trouble." She took a deep breath, glancing at him, and sighed loudly. "Because there are more humans than ever in the forest, I need a helper of sorts, one who, like you, has some of the old blood. I can offer you something, and you only need help when you are able. Would you think about it, at least?"
The girl eyed the woman suspiciously. "The tales say never to trust your kind, and that all you seek is to trick or to hurt humans. Why pretend to make me this offer when you could trick me or make me do whatever you want?"
"Ah," the witch started, "those stories have truth in them, but I was human once, and I remember how it was. I am something different now, something not-quite, and sometimes, I miss being just human. If I wished I could spell you into helping me, or have Rhys compel you. But I do not wish this. And I have not yet shared what I'm offering you in return for your help. Would you hear me out? A little scared but more curious than anything, the girl nods her head and says "Go on."
Adara brightened, clapped her hands together, and smiled broadly. "I would actually enspell you, but only for the duration you wish. This spell would allow you to be in the forest for as long as you wanted, but no time would pass outside of the forest. You would also be able to change into a magpie to allow you to travel faster. Also, I would give you a trinket that will allow you to summon me whenever you find trouble. I know this is a lot to take in, but please, take some time to really think about my offer."
The girl paced back and forth quickly, frowning at the ground. Suddenly she stopped and looked at the witch and the child. "Why me?" she asked. "What aren't you telling me? Can I tell my parents or friends about this? If I say yes, will I never see my family again? I don't understand this," she cried.
The witch looked at her patiently. "Child, you found Rhys when you shouldn't have been able to see him. I knew because of this, and because of how you responded to me, that you are of the old blood. You seemed more curious than scared of him and of me, and when you saw me in my magpie form, your face positively lit up. I need some help, and you seem like someone who is bold and fair. All of that led me to make you this offer. I would ask that you not share this, for your safety as well as for the safety of those of us that dwell here. And you will not be bound or imprisoned in any way - you will be free to go home whenever you wish. Is there anything else I can answer?" The girl slowly shook her head no. "You need not make a decision now. Please, take a day or two or however long you need to think about it. When you've made up your mind, come back to this tree and knock on it 3 times. I will be listening, dear one."
Neb looked her in the eye and said "ok". She seemed a little dazed as she turned and followed the path that would take her home. When she was out of sight, Rhys straightened a little and seemed to age a bit. "Do you think she will say yes?", he asked thoughtfully. Adara looked at him. Then she closed her eyes and 'felt' the energy of her forest, making sure nothing was amiss. Opening her eyes, she said "I hope so. We can help her, I think. Nice job picking her, Rhys."
Lost in thought, the girl stumbled on the familiar forest path. When she finally got home, she entered the back door and slipped off her shoes. Her father was no longer yelling, and was watching television while her mother made supper. Her younger sister was in their shared room, working on her schoolwork, as usual. The girl took off her jacket and hung it on her bed post. She looked at her sister and said slowly "Do you believe in witches?"
