#moonsprite

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You had never been outside of the Faerie Ring.  The brightly colored toadstools of various sizes, colors, and even shapes, circle around the largest oak in the forest.  The Faerie Ring keeps you, a member of the illustrious Unseelie Court, safe.  The last of the Moon Sprites.  You weren’t as powerful as some of the Fae Folk, but you were still of royal blood.  Protected by the Unseelie Court, especially during moon phase celebrations.  The moon being one of the most important entities to the Unseelie Court.

Your handmaiden Elswyth annoyingly goes everywhere with you.  Even when you sit at the edge of the Faerie Ring, for no reason.  You can’t help but wonder what’s beyond the ring.  Sitting at the edge daydreaming about revelry in their world.  The other fae talk about them like it’s a disease.  They are dangerous.  They would cause harm.  But would they if they didn’t know about your heritage?

All fae possess the power of glamour.  Which comes in handy considering you’re a fae with wings.  Wings that are taller than you, extending above your head, with delicate tails that drag the ground.  Fae not of royal blood don’t have such large wings.  Wings with the most beautiful shades of twilight, deep blues that intertwine together and fade into a nearly silver white.  Delicate but strong wings.  And you stick out because of them.  

Most of the Unseelie Court who have wings, have wings with black, purple, or silvery white.  Their wings are more like gossamer, sheer, and more for looks than functionality.  The Unseelie Court is not as strong as it once was.  Faerie Courts have broken down into smaller courts; The Summer Court, the Autumn Court, the Dark Court, The Winter Court, The Shadow Court, The High Court.  The Unseelie and Seelie Courts are dwindling down.  Even talks of you needing to move to the Shadow Court, but no longer do you want to be cooped up in this stupid Ring, or behind another Ring for that matter.

Just to test out if there’s any alarms that might go off if you happen to leave the Ring you pop out one of your indigo stocking clad feet beyond the Ring.  Resting it outside, for once Elswyth is nowhere to be found, and for once you feel at peace.  That is until you hear the rustling of the leaves.  Unquietly your foot slips back into the safety of the ring.

A handsome man with a square jaw, brunette hair with soft curls, that is styled perfectly walked into your forest.  You know he can’t see you on the other side of the ring, but his piercing blue eyes stare right into your soul.  His mouth cocks to the side as he looks at the ring that surrounds your home, “Faerie folks are in old oaks.”  Kicking around at the dried leaves his gaze sets back upon you, “Is that true?”

You gasp.  Not only does it appear that he looks right at you, but he knows of the fae, and if that’s true he knows what the ring of toadstools means.  His hand rubs along his jaw, and he steps closer to the ring.  Going against everything you’ve been taught you dare to stick your head out at the man.  “Please don’t.  You’ll be trapped here for seven years.”

“So, it is true.”

“I don’t know what you mean, sir.”

“What are you?” he asks, his face holds a kindness, but his eyes they hold a darkness in them.

“A Moon Sprite.  Last of my kind,” you know he probably doesn’t know what that is, nor would it matter.

“What court do you belong to Moonbeam?” you can’t help but have butterflies in your stomach at the nickname he gave you.  Affiliating you with your affinity.  Little does he know the nights you have danced in moonbeams, soaking up their power for your own.

“The Unseelie Court.  How do you know so much about the fae, sir?” you dare to poke even more of your body out of the ring, your shoulders now exposed to the handsome stranger.

“I’m a witch.”

You roll your eyes at him, “They no longer exist, sir.  They allowed their powers to die out.  Too weak for the growing world.  All because they wanted to be acclimated with humans.”

The stranger doesn’t answer you, but his eyes cast over with the blackest black, blocking out his bright sapphire eyes.  The wind stirs in the forest and wiggles around the toadstools, breaking a few off of the thick ring.  “Stop, sir.”

“I had to prove myself.  You believe me?” you nod at him.  “Are you not going to step outside the ring?”

“Not today, sir.  Us fae don’t trust witches.”

“Because we possess real powers?” he asks with a crooked grin.

“Because you know our weaknesses.  You live amongst humans, and you taught them our secrets.”

“I didn’t,” quickly his hand comes up to your cheek, gently caressing it with his thumb.

“Please don’t sir,” your body lurches back after letting his soft warm hands touch your cold skin.

“You don’t have to call me sir, Moonbeam.”

“Then what is your name?” it’s occurred to you that you haven’t given him a name either.

“Chase Collins,” his head tilts towards you, wanting you to offer up your name.

“Moonbeam,” your faerie giggle rings out into the forest.  Stirring the guards outside the ring to your presence.  In the pond nearby a green lady emerges at hearing the last moon sprite outside of the ring.  Her mouth set to attack to protect you from the stranger.  Chase’s body looks around the forest.  His eyes spotting the random fae throughout to protect the Ring.  “Fae don’t give out our names, Chase Collins.  A name holds power.  If I give you my name, then you have power over me, and you are a witch.  I can’t let you have that, sir.” “Does that mean you have power over me?” you nod your head.

“Goodbye, Chase Collins.”

“Wait!  Can I come see you again?” your eyes look up at the sky to view the moon, needing to know what phase it is in.  A few more days until a half moon, you shouldn’t be out of the ring during a full moon, not a Moon Sprite.

“Yes, tomorrow.  Twilight.  I’ll see you tomorrow, Chase Collins.”

“Will I get to see you fully?” he gives you a boyish grin, biting on his lip.

“Perhaps,” Jenny Greenteeth exposes her sharp teeth, hissing at the stranger.  “Come alone.”

“I don’t think she likes me,” he nods over to Jenny, looking and seeing more of the fae, walking closer to him.

“Enough you lot,” you command them.  Because you are of royal blood they cease their movements.  

“You have that power over them?”

“I’m of royal blood Chase Collins.  They are my subjects.”

“Tomorrow,” he bids you farewell.  Walking confidently through the forest.  Eyeing each of the fae before he’s out of sight.

“Your Highness, you know not what he wants.  Witches can’t be trusted,” Jenny warns you.  Her body sliding further into the pond.

“What would you know?  No one inside the ring knows about his visit.  Are we understood?” another command to your subjects.  They nod their head.  “I’ll allow you to guard me tomorrow.”

“Do not step outside the ring,” is Jenny’s final warning before fully becoming the duckweed again.  You fully go back into the ring, with a bigger smile than you have had in thousands of years.  Feeling like for the first time you aren’t alone.

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It took some time to pull yourself away from the court to make it back out to the edge of the Ring.  Thankfully the majority of the Unseelie are scared of the edge.  Untrusting of “out there”.  You see Chase Collins before you get to the edge.  His body planted on the forest floor, legs crossed, waiting for you.  His long fingers tap along his khaki peacoat.  His eyes daring a glance at Jenny.

“Maybe she’s changed her mind,” Jenny’s voice rings out.  A sharp shrillness that most humans find detestable.

“She’ll show,” he assures her.  Never exhibiting that he’s scared of her.

You sit on your calves.  Giving you the ability to lean your head out of the Ring right at his eye level.  He jolts at the sudden intrusion in his space.  Your tinkling laugh echoes through the forest, stirring the guards at your body in the outside world.

“Are you really not coming out?”

“Not today, Chase Collins.  I was told not to trust witches.  What brings you out to find a Faerie Ring anyways?”  you can’t help but smile at his boyishly handsome face.  Fae don’t look like him.  In all your thousands of years, you’ve never met anyone like him.

“I heard stories.  Wanted to see if you existed.  When I learned of an extremely old oak in the area, I had to investigate.  Can I not come into the ring?”

“You could,” your head nods at him.  “But you would be trapped.  It would feel a mere few hours, until you stepped outside the ring.  Seven years will pass.”

“My Qu... you shouldn’t speak our secrets.  Humans can become our pets,” Jenny’s ever worried tone speaks at you.  Nearly spilling your biggest secret.

“Chase Collins is not a human.  He is a witch,” your eyes never leave his.  The crystal blue nearly putting you in a spell before you quickly look away.

“I may be a witch, but you do hold power over me, since you know my name.  You can just call me Chase though.”

Tilting your head, you look at him confused, “Is your name Chase Collins or not?”

“It is.  Us humans typically only use first names.”

“Seems informal, Chase Collins,” his long fingers pet along your cheek again.

“As does Moonbeam, My Queen,” a wicked grin crosses his face.  Jenny’s voice hisses at him, while her body crawls out of the muck.  Red Caps, sprites, pixies, goblins, and such all march towards him.

“You shouldn’t have said that, witch,” Jenny’s voice screams at him.

“Make them stop,” his voice quietly begs.  His eyes darken to black.

“St-st-stop,” your voice cracks, and none of them listen.  Your whole body emerges from the ring, extending your wings for the guards and Chase to see.  His body backs away from you slightly.  Eyes wide as he takes in your full appearance.  Your hair and eyes turning to silver, reflecting the barely there moon.  Your dress indigo and cobalt, with the deepest leather arm wraps tied tightly around your biceps in intricate patterns.  Extending your wings, you show your true form.  The fae stop, bowing down to you.  “This one is not to be harmed, you lot.  Now be gone.”  With their retreating feet, your form shrinks back.  Ears no longer pointed, your wings go to your back, creating a train for your dress.  

Chases’ body walks closer to you.  “My Queen,” he bows, holding his posture, before his head turns to look up at you.

“Please get up Chase Collins.”  Chase grabs for your hand, gently kissing it, and you nearly melt at his touch.  “I should go,” your voice shaky with the power that his lips left behind.  

“Please, don’t.  You only just go here.”

“Chase Collins, you should forget this place,” he doesn’t have your name, and already you feel him holding a power over you.  You’re a young and naïve Moon Sprite.  You have no business consummating with humans, much less witches.  Humans live for far less a time than you do, and witches cannot be trusted.

“No, don’t say that, Moonbeam.  I... whatever I did I apologize,” his voice sincere.  The wicked look he normally carries disappearing.

“Witches can’t be trusted, Chase Collins.”

“Tomorrow?” he begs, his voice nearly cracking.  “Please.”

“I won’t be coming out of the Ring,” your body walks backwards to the ring, but your wrists are grabbed tightly by Chase’s hands.  A small yelp exists your mouth, but none of your guards stir.

“Promise me.  Or I take you with me.”

“Chase...”

“Promise me,” the darkness in his eyes is evident as you struggle to get away, nearly breaking free before the complete obsidian black coats his eyes.

“Fine.  Tomorrow.”

“Outside of the ring,” his hands loosen their grip, but his onyx eyes get even darker.

“You won’t take me?” the movement of your body stops.  You now have no desire to move back within the safety of your Ring.

“Not tomorrow.”

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