Page 7 of Fae Tithe

Eleanor shrugged. “It’s what I would want someone to do for me. Which school did you go to before?” she asked, her rampant curiosity peaked.

“I didn’t. My fathers home-schooled me.”

Eleanor blinked. I didn’t even know that was something you could do. She continued her questioning. “Why were you late today?”

“Faedamn, you’re nosey, aren’t you?” Marina giggled. “We were visiting family in the Faerie Isles. The ship was supposed to arrive two days ago but was delayed by a storm.”

Eleanor jolted with excitement. “You’ve been to the Faerie Isles? What’s it like?”

Marina raised an eyebrow at her new roommate and chuckled. “El, let me unpack, then I will tell you all about it.”

Within a week, Eleanor and Marina fell into an easy routine at Portson Finishing School for Girls. Eleanor found the other girl warm and could not help being drawn to her effervescent nature. The teenage girls bonded over a shared love of books and eagerness to travel. Each morning, they would flip a Sel to see who got to use the bathroom and mirror first before walking with linked elbows to their meals and classes.

At the end of the first fortnight, Marina gushed about her fathers in their room, legs dangling off the edge of her bed.

“They’re merchants, trading mostly in pearls and gems,” she explained with a grin. “They said I could visit home for a weekend after they’re done with work at the Spring Equinox Festival. They said I could bring a friend if I wanted. Would you like to go?”

Eleanor straightened at her desk, jolted by surprise. She abandoned the letter she was writing to her mother and laid down her fountain pen. Tears pricked her eyes, suddenly overcome that someone besides her family wanted to spend more time with her. She blinked them away and turned to face Marina.

She swallowed down her nerves before answering, a wide grin of joy spreading across her face. “I would love to.”

The day following the invite to Marina’s home, Eleanor had gotten permission for them to head to the farmer’s market, which made its permanent home a few lanes away. The vendors there sold a wide range of fruits, vegetables, treats, and pantry staples. Eleanor always had a sweet tooth and was craving a dessert.

I usually do this alone. No one had ever wanted to come with me before.

Eleanor and Marina meandered through the vibrant streets together, linked arm in arm, deep in discussion about an essay assigned to them by Miss Taylor.

“Which one do you think you will write about?” Marina asked.

Their assignment required them to choose a Seelie King to research and write a report on. The girls rounded a corner on the path as Eleanor considered for a moment, carefully avoiding other pedestrians.

“Maybe the first? King Theo, he seems the most interesting,” she replied.

“Hmm… Why’s that?” Marina asked. “I plan on doing King Rian. Mainly because most of the information about him is very detailed, and I want to make sure I capture everything as accurately as possible.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” Eleanor could see her point, but she knew she would have to be actually interested in her subject to write the essay well. “I just find King Theo really fascinating, you know? The Last Dragon respected him so much he gave him the Dragon Flame magic. He then used it to make the wall at the border. I mean, he basically founded Seelieland. Let’s not forget that he also put in the court systems as well.”

“Hmmm…” Marina looked thoughtful as she pursed her lips. “I see why you think that, but I have to disagree. I think King Rian is more interesting. There is so much more information available about him and because it is newer, it’s more accurate. The stories from those times are so old they almost seem like make-believe, you know? It’s not like anyone alive has ever seen a Dragon.”

“Wash your mouth out,” Eleanor sputtered. “Of course they were Faedamn real! That’s why the Dragon from Theo’s time is called the Last Dragon.”

“Believe what you want to believe, but c’mon. A creature that is supposedly bigger than a mountain that can fly and breathe fire?” Marina snorted, shaking her head dismissively.

“Well…” She looked down at her friend, linked to her arm. “Let’s see, shall we? I bet an essay with a Dragon in it will get a better grade then one without.”

Marina laughed aloud at Eleanor’s playful jab and nudged her elbow into her side. “I’ll take that bet.”

They continued their walk to the markets. Eleanor loved the bustling sandstone streets of Portson. The lanes and alleyways were alive with bright colours and a diversity of faeries and humans strode throughout the streets with purpose. The pair wandered into the market, which was sheltered beneath interwoven canvas shade sails. They were hand-painted with bright shapes and patterns, sheltering the patrons and vendors from the strong Seelieland sun.

Eleanor grabbed Marina’s hand and bee-lined for a fruit stall. The vendor was beautifully striking. The Dryad – a type of woodland faerie – stepped forward to serve the girls. She had bark-like skin and long green hair, braided with an assortment of flowers and leaves. A deliciously scented pink flower crown kissed the top of her viridian head. The Dryad’s smile lit up as Eleanor and Marina dashed over. Her glassy insect eyes, luminous and round, shone with enthusiasm at her customers. Eleanor perused the Dryad’s wares. She added some apricots to the basket she carried to take back to the school and then ordered two of the stall’s specialities.

The Dryad buzzed happily. She took two long wooden skewers in her branch-like fingers. With her free hand, she threaded alternating delicacies onto each stick: sweet rice balls, strawberries, melon chunks, and apricot wedges.

“I love these!” Eleanor beamed at the faerie, who she swore blushed in response.

The Dryad’s slender fingers moved with precision, wrapping a cone of thin, papery bark around the base of each skewer. Eleanor watched, her mouth watering, as the vendor drizzled thick golden honey over the fresh fruits, its floral scent curling through the warm air under the canvas shade sails. The honey pooled briefly before slipping down in slow, glistening ribbons, sinking into the bark’s folded creases. Holding the skewers upright, the Dryad extended them towards Eleanor and Marina, sticky droplets falling into the makeshift cones with soft plops.

Eleanor fished the Sels from the pouch at her hip and placed them into the stall’s shallow tray with a quiet clink. The Dryad emitted a low, resonant hum, a sound like wind through hollow wood, before inclining her head in acknowledgement.