The large house sat on the boundary between village and forest. Other homes were still visible down the dirt path, yet enough space remained between them for several patches of well kept berry bushes. The former patriarch of the estate, Taliesin Ward, had been the village elder before Corann. His daughter Isolda married a logger with no interest in town management.

Blackened into the door was yet another symbol to ward off evil spirits. A small altar held a splash of milk in a hollowed out stone near the entrance. Several berries soaked in the milk along with a single mint leaf.

The old door creaked open upon my knocking. Fiery red hair and emerald green eyes greeted me with a smile. She was younger than I had expected, not much older than I.

“Master Arlyn, how nice of you to visit. Please, come in.” A cry from inside the house drew her attention. “You’ll have to excuse me a moment, please make yourself at home.”

I removed my sandals, and began to wash my feet in the foot basin. Crisp, fresh water tickled my skin. It was an old tradition to throw out the water from a foot basin the night before. A tradition meant to prevent an aes sídhe from inviting itself in. A practice I had not seen in any other home in the village.

“Is there something wrong sir knight?” The woman returned with a baby girl in her arms.

“I just noticed remnants of the old ways around your home.” I followed Mrs. Reid to a large room. Paper doors opened wide to reveal the deep evergreen forest just a stone throw away. The chairs didn’t sit on the floor, but rather on legs like those in the capital.

“My father respected many of the old traditions to keep peace with the aes sídhe. It wasn’t until his passing that many in the village stopped.”

“They stopped because they realized such ways are mere superstition. The power of the goddesses offer far greater protections.”

“With all due respect sir knight, it wasn’t until the village ceased practicing these superstitions that the attacks from the aes sídhe began. Until your arrival, I have not felt any safety from prayer.” Isolda spoke as if talking about the change in season, or simple local gossip. There was no hint of sarcasm nor spite in her tone.

“So you prefer leaving offerings of thanks to dark creatures in exchange for amenity? Or is it payment for their help maintaining your estate?” I accused. The fact that such a large home and the bushes outside were well maintained had not escaped my notice. The tasks required for such order would be near impossible for a woman alone most of the day with a baby at her breast.

No evil curse soaked the walls of the house yet. No enchantments plagued the woman or her precious child. My senses were no longer dulled from pain of battle, so I trusted the power of my amulet.

“Not all the fairy folk are as evil as you believe.” Her statement struck me. If she was already believing their lies, there was little time left before her soul was taken.

Anger bubbled from deep inside me. This woman wasn’t just gambling her own soul. The innocent child in her arms was also endangered by her misplaced trust.

“What you say is heresy! You are leading your family into the jaws of hell!” My voice boomed. Heat washed across my face, and my knuckles turned white from rage.

The shock of my outburst widened her eyes. Her whole body cringed in fear as I towered over her, no longer comfortable in my chair. Shrill crying burst from the girl in her arms. She was scared, and crying for her mother.

“Mommy, I’m afraid.” The words of the little girl from my dream seeped into me. My legs collapsed and sent me back to my chair. There was still time. The village had many good people on the edge of falling into lies and darkness. I needed to hurry before the aes sídhe wove their fell curses into their lives.

“Who are the servants of the trine goddesses?” Her whispered question woke me from my turmoil.

“We humans are the servants of the goddesses of good. The aes sídhe are the servants of the dark gods,” I replied.

“And, are all humans good?” Her voice regained some of its strength, but lost none of the softness.

“Of course not. There are many who are led astray by the evil gods and their servants. We are mere images, and not perfect.” My voice sank to a whisper.

Fragmented memories pieced themselves back together. Visions of a sick mother, clinging only to thin threads of life, returned from long buried corners of my mind. The mirage of a boy begging the church for aid became more and more solid.

Iron bars blocked the boy from entering the temple grounds. The priest who came in response to his desperate calls offered nothing but faith. Faith that everything was the will of the goddesses felt empty.

His father’s final wish in the mortal world was that he would take care of his mother. The promise he gave weighed heavier as the illness dragged his mother closer to death.

Distraught, the boy ran through the city. A dark alley brought him to a woman. Sweet words promised salvation for his mother. Great beauty masked the evil that poisoned the woman’s heart. She gave the frantic child a strange potion. He knew the laws, and had been taught to run from witches. She assured him that not all the aes sídhe were evil.

I trusted a witch blindly. I took the potion and didn’t question why she asked for nothing in return. I held the bottle to my mother’s lips. I swore to her that she would be better soon. I made her drink. And I watched helplessly as she cried in agony.

They were evil. They beguiled the weak and the gullible. Death was what the lot of them deserved.

“If humans and gods alike can be both good and evil, why not the fairies? Would it not be possible for the aes sídhe to stray from their paths?”