Tales from Faerie: Not So Long Ago

By Ben Guthrie

A fay who has no heart. A man selling his strength to the devil. Two ignorant brothers in search of brains. A subway system shared by humans and fays. These situations and many more are found in this collection of eleven fairy tales, all displaying the magic and danger that await those who find themselves in the land of Faerie.
Inspired by the Brothers Grimm and other classic sources of fairy tales, Tales from Faerie: Not So Long Ago is set in what looks to be our world, but here man’s modern technology has not eliminated the fay strongholds in the wild forests, caves, clouds, and oceans of the world. What is more, the supernatural is still very present as well, and remains active in the world.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ben Guthrie
• Release date: Nov 9, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301960026

Ben Guthrie

Ben Guthrie is a transcriptionist by day and an author by night. He has composed both poetry and prose in the past, but for now his focus is poetry. He has long been interested in artistic explorations of Christianity, and Christian explorations of the arts, going so far as to get an M.Litt in the subject. He does not use social media, for his poetry is considerably more interesting than his life.

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Tales from Faerie: Not So Long Ago

By Ben Guthrie

Copyright 2012 Ben Guthrie

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Table of Contents

Author’s Note

The First Tale: Sister and Brother and the Spanish Moss

The Second Tale: The Fay with No Heart

The Third Tale: The Underground Train

The Fourth Tale: The Stone Mermaid

The Fifth Tale: The Heartless Man

The Sixth Tale: Sly Jack and the Devil

The Seventh Tale: The Brainless Boys

The Eighth Tale: The Perfect Child

The Ninth Tale: Weakness and Strength

The Tenth Tale: Delaney and Her Brothers

The Eleventh Tale: The Silver Necklace

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Author’s Note

There are those who do not believe in fays (or fairies, as we often call them), but they have not investigated the matter as they should have. Certainly fays are not often seen in the city, or even in the suburbs, but those are human territories. Under the earth, deep in the woods, or beneath the ocean waves the fays have their seats of power. Wherever they live, there is the land of Faerie. Few humans have ever penetrated deeply into it, but at its edges human lands and Faerie intersect, sometimes bringing the inhabitants into contact. No doubt many of the traditional fairy tales were inspired by encounters at these borders, or by the echoes of power left behind when fays retreat.

In modern times, governments have tried to tame Faerie, or at least to keep their people separate from it, but encounters still happen, and certain men still cultivate secret knowledge of the magic and mystery that flow from it. The tales that follow are records of some of these encounters and adventures that men and women, boys and girls, have experienced in more recent times. Just as in the old tales, humans find both great promise and grave danger in their dealings with fay-magic, supernatural creatures, and the like. Perhaps these tales may serve both as a warning to those who would walk in Faerie, and as a revelation to those who have spent their lives apart from it.

The First Tale: Sister and Brother and the Spanish Moss

Not so long ago, Sister and Brother lived in a place called the Golden Isles. There was an old tale telling of pirate gold to be found there, but no one had ever found any, so most thought the name fit better as a description of the beautiful beaches. Some even suggested the real treasures of the islands were their ancient live oaks and endangered sea turtles. Whatever the reason for that name, the particular one of these islands on which Sister and Brother lived was a wonderful place—at least for most people. They were not so happy, because they lived with a father and stepmother who were decidedly not living happily ever after.

Their mother had died when they were very small, and their father had remarried soon after, unwilling to let them grow up motherless. In the years since, their father’s once-promising job had not provided as much income as expected, and they had little money to spare, though they never went hungry. This was not what their stepmother had expected from her marriage. Her frustration led to arguments with her husband and harshness toward the children, so they grew to fear her.

One summer night, they even overheard her saying, All those children ever do is eat and wear out clothes. If you don’t find a better job, they’ll be our ruin.

I’ve told you, her husband sighed, I know of no better jobs here available to me—

Then we should move someplace where you can find one, if you’re not too lazy to try, she shot back.

It’s not that I’m lazy, he protested. I love living on this island . . . . You know what? I heard about a new project on the mainland. Once I’ve finished work tomorrow afternoon I’ll go inquire into it. I’ll have to be away for the night, but if it will make you happy . . . .

Well, I guess you’re not as lazy as I thought, his wife said, smiling slightly.

Sister loved their home, so talk of moving frightened her. Brother was younger, so he understood less of what the argument was about, but he knew he would do anything to heal the strife.

We have to do something to help Father, she whispered.

Do you think we could find treasure for him? he asked, having recently become interested in local legends and pirate gold, and having gathered that lack of money was their problem.

Maybe, she said uncertainly. But I don’t know if those stories are true.

As it was late, they decided to go to bed and make further plans the next day. After their father went to work the next morning, Sister pulled out an island map and a local history book, while Brother gathered his treasure-hunting books. He was particularly excited about one that claimed to give the method of finding gold by dowsing. The only thing needed was the right kind of Y-shaped stick. Sister was more confident in searching places where, according to the history book, gold was likely to have been buried. She marked the two most likely-seeming places on the map: the edge of one of the island’s golf courses, and the vicinity of the stables at the edge of the historic district. Both locations, she was happy to see, were near one of the numerous bike trails that criss-crossed the island, so they would be easy to ride to.

As their stepmother was occupied with her own affairs, it was not too hard to slip out, armed with the map, a couple of books, and a shovel for each of them. They rode their bicycles south toward the first spot Sister had marked. Eager for gold and hoping to somehow sense it, both of them thought they felt magic in the air as they pedaled down the trail through tunnels of live oaks. They thought this a good sign.

When they reached the edge of the golf course, they stopped and began to consider how to start. According to their history book, pirates might once have made camp in this location; they hoped that meant the pirates thought it a safe spot for burying treasure. As they surveyed the area, Sister noticed a woman nearby lining up a shot.

Excuse me, Sister said. Do you ever look around the edges of the course?

The woman smiled. Only when I lose my ball.

You see, Sister continued, we think this might have been an area where pirates buried their treasure, and we’re trying to find some.

Wanting to get rich? the woman asked.

Our stepmother always tells Father we don’t have enough money, so we’re trying to find some to make her happy, she replied.

I’m afraid treasure cannot do that, little miss, the woman said. I recommend calling off the hunt. Searching for gold brings enough trouble without family strife added in.

Just then, Brother interrupted the conversation.

I found a Y-shaped branch that should work for dowsing, he said.

Do you think dowsing will really find anything? Sister asked.

The book says so, he answered stubbornly.

Hearing this, the woman rolled her eyes and said, I have my doubts about all such secret techniques. If you two won’t take my advice, just be cautious, whatever you do—gold-hunters don’t always stay rational.

She returned to her golf game, and Brother began passing his branch over the ground, watching for a reaction. There was none, so he slowly paced around the area while Sister walked the bicycles after him. A few minutes later, the branch dipped downward when passing a tree several yards away from the course edge. Sister unloaded the shovels from the bicycles and they began digging excitedly. But they found nothing. Brother was disappointed, so Sister suggested they check the other marker on the map with the dowsing rod to see if it worked any better there, since otherwise they would have to start digging holes every few feet around the likely spots. He agreed, so they mounted their bicycles and started toward the stables.

As they approached the stables, they saw a man wrapped in a cloak standing by the path. He noticed their dowsing rod and greeted them.

What are you looking for? he asked.

Sister was considering putting him off, but Brother blurted out that they were searching for gold.

I do not think that dowsing rod will find it, the stranger said. But considering where we are, I am surprised you are not using the magic of the land itself.

What magic? Sister said. I mean, everyone calls this island magical, but I’ve never seen any magic just happening.

He’s trying to help—please tell us about the magic, interjected Brother.

It rises through the live oaks, the stranger said. "That is why they are so named, though most do not know it. Magic seeks what is most alive, and any place where live oaks grow attracts its energy. Though they cannot uproot themselves, the live oaks use the magic flowing in them to twist themselves into all the strange shapes you see—or sometimes the magic directs the tree.

It is the Spanish moss that is most relevant for your situation, though. Since it grows on the trees, it absorbs the magic. If each of you takes some moss, you can use its power to gain what you desire.

Is there a spell? Brother asked.

Strictly speaking, no. Tie the moss into a small bundle and bind it to yourself. Then you need only wish to unleash the magic.

Thank you! Brother cried, already looking around for Spanish moss.

Yes . . . thank you, Sister said, more hesitantly.

The stranger, who apparently had somewhere else to be, briefly acknowledged their thanks before walking swiftly away. Thinking nothing of this, Brother ran off the path toward a clump of Spanish moss hanging from a live oak, with Sister following. His excitement infected her despite her momentary doubts. Neither one knew the stranger had lied, for he too desired gold, and wanted no competitors.

Brother pulled down the first large clump of Spanish moss he could reach. As instructed, he