, , , , , ,

“You’re leaving again,” he said, pouting.

She rolled her eyes and laughed, a pealing giggle that sounded like tiny bells ringing.

“It won’t be for long,” she said. “Do you begrudge me my entertainment?”

“The fae courts are failing to keep you entertained?” He folded his arms and looked at her seriously. “You could bring them here, you know. Mortals are just as entertaining in our realm as they are in ours.”

She dismissed the idea with a gesture. “It’s not the mortals themselves I’m interested in. It’s their world, their lives, their… everything! They don’t bring all that with them. The best stories are in their world.”

He persisted. “You could just watch, though. You don’t need to go there yourself, do you?”

She shook her head. “I don’t need to. But I want to. It’s far more interesting to live a story than to simply watch one, or tell one, and Atlantis was so long ago! I need another… excursion.”

“Excursion? You came back from Atlantis barely a blink ago. How can you be restless already?”

She laughed again. “A blink in our time, but thousands of years in theirs. I want to see what’s changed. I started a story that I haven’t finished yet.”

The faery prince stood up. “I see you won’t be dissuaded,” he said with a sigh.

She smiled. “When have you ever been able to change my mind? I’m just going to live a single mortal life. I’ll be back in the faery realm before you know it.”

He bowed to her, reluctantly, and she stood, ready to leave the court of the fae for the mortal world.

“Atlantis sank long ago,” he said. “Where will you go this time?”

She shrugged and winked. “Not far,” she told him. “England, somewhere. I hear that the Lake District is still beautiful…”

© Kari Fay