One of the girls, a young brown-haired scholar named Trish, approached the fae. “Um, excuse me,” she waved politely, trying to cover herself as best she could. The faerie raised an eyebrow in acknowledgement.
“Please don’t take offense, but…well…I’m a virgin, and…well…”
“None taken, lass,” he nodded. “You’d like to be an elf, right?”
Trish nodded. “What’s it like?”
The faerie leader smirked. “They’re kin to us. They live for centuries, some forever. They’re beautiful and graceful, and have a natural rapport with all forest creatures. They’re also known for their magical skill. Does that sound appealing to you?”
Trish smiled. “Yes, it does.”
The faerie nodded. “Anyone else?”
“I’d like to be elven, too,” said a raven-haired girl, approaching Trish.
“Very well. Permit me one moment to summon my friend Valanthe.” He fluttered in the air, legs crossed in a crouched position. The fae that had been Susan and Robin hovered near him, lending their blossoming powers to his efforts.
Becky approached Trish while the summoning commenced. “I didn’t know you felt this way, Trish.”
She nodded in response. “Did you really think you were the only fantasy fan here? I’ve dreamed of something like this happening for years.”
The girl next to her shrugged. “I just think it sounds cool. Exotic, too.”
The conversation was broken by the opening of a swirling green portal. Out stepped an elven woman of indescribable beauty, dressed in a flowing white gown. Flowers adorned her silken hair, through which her pointed ears crested. She was shorter than most of the girls, but her stature conveyed great power. Her amber eyes sparkled with it.
“Brightwing, my old friend. How fare you?”
“As well as ever, my lady.” He fluttered down to rest on her shoulder. “These recently displaced ladies wish to join your race.”
Valanthe eyed them evenly for several minutes, betraying nothing by her expressions. Finally, she nodded. “They shall have what they desire. Tricia, Yvonne, kneel, please.”
Trish and Yvonne approached without trepidation, kneeling before Valanthe. From the nimbus behind her, she produced two green cloaks, terminating in a silver clasp in the shape of a sun and moon.
“These cloaks can only be worn by elves. I present them to you now, my sisters.”
“Thank you, Lady Valanthe,” Trish bowed, before taking her cloak and locking the clasp. She was immediately engulfed in an aura of green light. She began to shrink, losing almost a foot in height, along with most of her excess body fat. Her cheekbones rose, giving her face an angular look as her brown hair lengthened, all the while lightening into bright strands of gold. Her matching golden eyes stretched into an almond shape, coupled with the stretching of her ears. An outfit of natural fiber, earth-tone clothing materialized on her body. When the power subsided, Trish stood, an elven girl of considerable beauty.
Valanthe nodded sagely. “I name thee, Goldwillow.”
Goldwillow bows respectfully. Attention then turns to Yvonne, who dons her cloak and begins to change as well. She becomes a silver-haired elf, with eyes of purest amethyst. She is named Silverwater, and the three wave goodbye as they step through the portal to the elven lands.
“Great,” Anna said. “But what about the rest of us?”
“There’s always mermaids,” Becky smirked, nudging her shoulder.
“And centaurs, satyrs, dryads, dragons, nagas, harpies, you name it,” the faerie leader droned. “So pick already, will ya?” He seemed to be looking only at Anna.
Mon Apr 1 22:47:38 2002