Gods and Fairies

I pulled up the dirt driveway to grandmother’s home; the rain was falling harder and harder by the second, so much so it bent one of the windshield wipers on my old beat-up car. I named her blister. It was my father’s car before he had gone and was the only car I trusted to get me to where I needed to go. Pulling up to her log home, I grabbed my bag and switched off the engine. Sitting there for a second, I braced myself for the troublesome run through the storm to the front porch of her home, then took off. Each step I took sent a wave of water into my shoes, flooding them with tiny rocks and mud. The feeling was more than uncomfortable, but it was too late to turn back.

I slid to a stop in front of the steps that lead to the front door. They were decaying, and in need of a power washing along with some sealant. A fond memory of getting a sliver from these steps when I was young flashed through my mind, causing a small smile to grace my lips as I stood there in the rain.

“Are you going to stand there all day, or come give me a hug, sugar fairy.” A honey sweet tone blessed my ears, my eyes flickering up to the old woman in front of me. Her warm brown eyes locked on my messy appearance, worry laced her wrinkled forehead. “You haven’t visited in a while, is everything alright?” She questioned as she held a towel out in my direction.

“Everything is fine, Nana. I’ve just had a lot on my mind recently and needed some fresh air.” I replied as I took the towel, dabbing at my wet hair with it. Stepping up onto the porch before being pulled into her soothing embrace. Her hand gently patting my back before she released me and ushered me into the house.

“Let’s get you a cup of hot cider. How does that sound? Then we can talk about what’s on your mind.” Leaving me in the entryway, she made her way toward’s the kitchen. The cider she had given me since I was a child was always homemade. I could never figure out how she could prepare it so fast, but it had always made her house smell like home.

I made my way towards the livingroom, her old leather couch looked more faded than I had remembered. The room was spacious. She really kept little if you didn’t include the pictures she had of the family. We packed away all the pictures she had of my dad when he had vanished. She said if someone will leave their family behind; they weren’t worth remembering. It didn’t make me miss him any less, though I knew deep down that I shouldn’t.

I had been sitting on the couch for only a moment before she had returned with a steaming cup of apple cider. Handing it to me, she took a seat next to me, her hand gently placed on my shoulder.

”Now sugar, tell me what’s clouding up your sky?” Her warm smile told me I could tell her anything and it would all end up okay, that no matter what it was, everything would turn out right.

”Nana, I met some people a few days ago at the coffee shop. They didn’t ignore me, in fact they embraced my differences. Though I am almost positive, they haven’t heard the rumors about our family. One of them asked me on a date…” My voice trailed off as uneasiness settled in. “He tried to kiss me and I bolted from the date. I couldn’t do it, Nana. What’s wrong with me?”

Her expression stayed calm and comforting as she stroked my arm in a soothing manner. “He wasn’t the right one for you sweetpea.” She looked off toward’s the photo of my grandfather. “The men in our family have always been, different.” For the first time since I had known my grandmother, her expression looked stressed, as if she were trying to decide if it was alright to tell me something. “You’re old enough now.” She mumbled and turned her gaze back to me.

”Nana, what is it?” I couldn’t keep the concern out of my tone as I took hold of her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze of reassurance. “Whatever it is, I can handle it.”

”Your father, when he left us behind, he was doing it to keep you safe.” Her tone was gentle, as if she were testing the water before getting too far into the topic. I didn’t say a word as I waited for her to continue. I had been waiting for so long to hear about my dad. I wouldn’t mess up this chance, even if it crushed me. “He was more different from anyone else in our bloodline. He had hair like your own, just slightly blond.”

She stood from her spot on the couch and made her way to a small wooden chest which sat neatly on the fireplace mantle. Carrying it over to me, she returned to her spot. Her fingers gliding over the smooth wood before undoing the latch. On top of a pile of neatly stacked pictures sat a necklace. The charm on the chain was of a beautiful woman with a fairy in her palm made out of a green gem. Carefully picking it up she placed it around my neck.

”This was your fathers, passed down from generation to generation for well over a hundred years. It’s about time for it to be yours, though we would have preferred for your father to give it to you himself.” Her voice trailed off as she took out the most recent photo of my father. It was one I hadn’t seen before. He was sitting on a rock next to a stream with a flute in hand. Sitting on the end of the flute was a little person with wings draped down their back. They were clearly listening to dad play music.

”Is that real?” I couldn’t hold back the excitement from my voice, I had always known fairies existed, or I had at least hoped they existed. She gave me a quick nod before placing the photo back in the box.

”Our family has always had traces of fae blood. It was never enough to produce wings, or magic. Not until your father was born. He had a talent for water magic that had saved the woodland fairies from an almost fatal fire that had broken out years ago. After that he would go out to play music for them now and then. You are like your father, though you were born with half the blood of a god, and half the blood of the fae. Your mother, she believes with all that she is, that she is your biological mother. You were born from a tree the fire had damaged, but brought back to life by his magic. We found you that night crying, wrapped in its roots.