The Land Set Aflame

Chapter 8: The Sleep Spell

Every nymph had her story. The story of the "hard lesson", of the reason why she usually avoided humans. The story of how everything went wrong, and somehow it was all her fault, even though it wasn't. It was never a happy story, and it never spoke well of human men.

Callyndia had her story too, even though she was only half-nymph. But being half-human, she had always found it hard to completely sequester herself from humanity, the way most fairies did. And she'd always refused to suppress herself, to hide her beauty or her fairy nature, even though she was well aware of the risks she was taking. After all, her beauty made her powerful, just like her mother.

Alloria Rosa never had to worry about men hurting her. She was the "Queen of Nymphs", after all: no one could ever touch her, unless she allowed it. Callyndia had hypothetically inherited half of that power, so surely she ought to be able to command a measure of the same respect.

And yet, here she was, no longer a courtier, but a wanderer, lying awake in bed well past the midnight watch, head throbbing, tormented by some hurtful words a man had said about her and her fairy magic.

At least it was just words this time. And at least it was Svenden Moon, and not some lecherous nobleman hoping to make her into a prestigious trophy for his collection, or a drunkard on the streets who didn't understand the meaning of the word 'no'. Svenden wasn't a nobleman, but he was a true gentleman: he would never hurt her.

Not physically, anyway.

Mortal men were simply not equipped to deal with fairy women, and that naturally meant that, in their eyes, anything they felt or thought about her must be her fault. She hadn't expected that Svenden Moon would have fallen into that trap too, though.

Well, her inability to sleep now absolutely was his fault.

She grumbled in frustration, and reached up to massage fairy magic into her temples. This was the third time she'd tried this sleep spell on herself tonight, and she already knew it wouldn't work any better this time than the last. The spell only reached its maximum potency when delivered by a kiss (not something she could really do to herself), and her fairy heritage rendered her frustratingly resistant to her own magic anyway.

She sighed in defeat and gave up on the sleep spell.

There would apparently be no sleep for her tonight. But, she could do something about the headache. She let a different spell course through her fingers, and she felt the pain of her headache gently fade away into blissful calm.

She turned to look out the window at the darkness of night, and was surprised to see a plume of smoke, and the pale orange glow of flames. She frowned: they'd put out that fire hours ago! Surely it wasn't spreading in town again!

Desperately wanting a distraction from her self-loathing, Callyndia went to the window and looked out. No, it wasn't a wildfire or a rogue elemental: it was just the blacksmith's furnace. A trail of smoke still rose from the chimney, standing out against the thin haze of wildfire smoke that pervaded the atmosphere. The glow of the furnace flames spilled out through a window and onto the streets.

Callyndia admittedly wasn't the most in-tune with the habits of the working people, but surely a blacksmith would douse his fire before going to bed at night, wouldn't he?

As she watched, she noticed a shadow move across the curtained window of the blacksmith's shop. Someone was awake in there. So it wasn't just an unattended fire in the forge. What a strange time to be awake and working a furnace!

Through a crack in the curtains, she thought she recognized the untamed, sandy-blonde hair of Leofric Banin, the young scholar wizard she'd met the evening before. She remembered him having said something about visiting with the blacksmith after he left the tavern.

But why was he still there this late?

Her curiosity piqued, Callyndia sighed to herself. She couldn't sleep, even with the help of magic, so she might as well go see what was going on there.

She reached over to the chest beside her bed and touched the pile of silks there. In a moment, the silks glided up her arm and wrapped around her entire body, slowly transforming into a warm outfit of cotton and wool — practical and comfortable, but still cute.

As she walked towards the door, she directed wisps of fairy magic into her long, copper-colored hair, gently pulling out the snags and then wrapping it all into a long braid down her back.

The dining room below was all cleaned up and ready for the morning, and Melser was apparently still awake. Without a human side, he probably didn't need much sleep. Instead, he was lounging on a couch, softly strumming his lute and absently staring into the distance with a nostalgic smile on his pretty face.

He brushed a stray lock of black hair from his face and raised a curious eyebrow at Callyndia as she stepped down into the dining room. "It's late for a lady to be going out alone," he said casually, "I thought you'd want your beauty sleep."

Somehow, his voice still oozed charm and showmanship, even when he was clearly not trying.

Her magic was still working on the braid along her back. "Well, you apparently don't need sleep to be pretty," she said playfully, "Why should I?"

Melser chuckled, and there was something very flirtatious about the look he gave her. "If you can't sleep," he said, "I could cast a sleep spell for you. Mine even works on full-blooded fairies."

From any mortal man, that would have come off as a creepy proposition, but casual flirting was typical fairy behavior. She could tell that she didn't have anything to fear from Melser: he understood her. That didn't mean she wanted to encourage that behavior, however. "Thanks," she said neutrally, "I may want to take you up on that later. But for now, there's something I want to see out there."

Melser nodded knowingly. "Yes, I think there is," he said, giving her the impression that he knew something she didn't, "But you shouldn't let the commonfolk see you twirling magic in your hair like that. Magic is fine in defense of the village, and for performances in a tavern, but out there—" He gestured towards the door. "—it's best to keep it hidden. People around here tend to mistrust fairies."

And accuse them of horrible things, just because they're beautiful and know magic.

She didn't say that out loud.

"Thanks for the warning," is what she did say.

She waited until the braid was complete and perfect before she opened the door and stepped out.

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Thanks for reading chapter 8! Hopefully you've gotten to know Callyndia Sablesong a little better now. Svenden's bitterness seems to be rubbing off on her a bit here, but I think Callyndia's got the emotional fortitude to handle it.