Book 2 Chapter 18: Vanillamist

Bauteut stared down at Joan as if she’d lost her mind. “Vanillamist? What are you yelling about?”

“A fairy,” Joan said with an almost giddy laugh. “Well, I guess a pixie would be more accurate. A tiny fairy. Real small. One of the, well, I don’t want to say minions. More like subjects? Either way, they can be really dangerous. But I know this one. VANILLAMIST! GET YOUR LITTLE SQUIRREL RIDING BUTT OUT HERE!”

Bauteut looked around for a moment, but didn’t quite seem convinced. “I don’t see anything. Are you sure?”

“Yes I am,” Joan said before giving a sigh. She tried to remember what she could about the pixie. There was another one who kept teasing her. Right, Ripple! “Fine, Vanillamist, I didn’t want to go there. But hey, if you want me to start yelling about the time you were out on patrol with Ripple and you accidentally grabbed a daisy and--”

“Enough!” a voice yelled, drawing her attention to one of the trees. A squirrel was on the branch with what appeared to be a pinecone riding on its back. After a moment the pinecorn seemed to distort and change, turning into a very strange, tiny creature in small, green scaled armor. The pixie stared down at her with furious green eyes, her dark green hair billowing slightly in the wind.

Bauteut stared at the pixie for a few moments before her mouth fell open. “Oh my gosh she’s absolutely adorable!”

“I’m sure she’d be a lot more adorable if she hadn’t just tried to kill us,” Joan said, unable to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. “What’s the big idea? We came here with the chosen, you’re supposed to challenge him, not us.” She couldn’t help it, though she tried desperately to suppress it. Unfortunately, the words came out before she could stop herself. “Well, big is a bit of an overstatement in this case.”

Bauteut gave a light snort but quickly covered her mouth. “Joan, please don’t mock the fae.”

“Listen well, human. You are not welcome here. The chosen is permitted entry but none save the--”

“But the chosen and the Hero, correct?” Joan asked. “That’s not important right now. I’m here to talk with… ummm…” She trailed off and tried to remember who was in charge in this region. Unfortunately through all of her lives, the times they had visited the fae had always been so different. Which meant different rulers. “Lightessa, I think?”

“You think to speak to my ruler? You are presumptuous, child, I give you that. But none save--”

“I am the Hero!” Joan said, cutting the fairy off. “Or, I was. It’s a long story. But if you don’t believe me, you may test me to see if I’m lying.”

Vanillamist just stared at her, her eyes wide with shock. However, after a moment she began to laugh. “You? The Hero? You don’t have the star. On top of that, you’re a little girl! You really must think me gullible if you think I’ll believe that. I’m familiar with the world you reek of, child. You’re not the Hero any more than I. Now, I will give you one chance to--”

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Then the sun was gone. The light wasn’t gone, though. Or rather, the effect of the light. The sky went black, the sun disappeared, but the ground, the trees, everything was still illuminated as if there was light.

“Vanillamist, what are you doing?” Joan asked before slowly looking around. She’d been to visit the fae many times. But she had never seen anything even remotely like this.

“Joan, what is this?” Bauteut asked. “You’re experienced in these things, aren’t you?”

“Not this, I’ve never seen this,” Joan whispered, unable to keep her hand from shaking. She slowly knelt down besides her sword and picked it off the ground, her eyes searching for the threat.

“Oh please, don’t be foolish, little lost hero,” a voice said. A strange, almost distorted voice. Not in a bad way, but in a way that she couldn’t identify what they were.

Vanillamist, meanwhile, looked horrified and was quickly backing away on their mount. “Child, what have you done? Why are one of the archfey here?” she asked, her voice filled with raw terror.

“Archfey?” Joan asked.

Vanillamist didn’t answer, she merely looked around wildly.

Then the light returned above and, only a few feet ahead of Joan a figure was standing.

Joan stared at the fae, her mouth open. “Who are you?” she asked softly.

“Oh, dear little Joan. At least, that is what you go by now, isn’t it?” the figure asked. She tried to pick out what they were, but it was like looking at a portrait through a thick fog. Everything kept shifting and reshaping itself before her eyes. Yet, somehow, despite the strangeness they were one of the most breathtaking people they’d ever seen. Even Neia would have been jealous of their beauty. “It has been so long since I have seen your soul like this. You, dear, may call me the Nameless One.”

“That’s not a name,” Joan said softly, trying to move away from the fae. Their attractiveness only made it worse. She couldn’t say if they were male or female, but their shifting created an instinctual desire in her that, frankly, she had yet to feel for anyone in this life. Magic of some kind, no doubt. She really didn’t like it.

“Names have power, my dear,” the creature said before holding out a hand to her. “As do titles, ‘Hero’. For you to so brazenly call yourself by that takes incredible courage. Especially considering how many enemies each hero has.” In an instant the fae was in front of her, their hand gripping her chin and forcing her to look up. “Especially considering the truth to those words.”

Joan’s breath froze and she stared at them, her entire body shaking. Their hands were warm and comforting, making her almost want to lean into them. Considering how much she knew they should have been anything but that made it all the more terrifying. “You know? How--”

“Come with me, child. We have so very much to talk about. An opportunity waits for you here. An opportunity like no other,” the fae said before they turned to walk away.

“But what about Searle? He--”

“Searle and your other companion will be fine. My business isn’t with them, hero.”

Joan looked back to see Bauteut. Except, to her horror, the healer was gone. She slowly turned towards the Nameless One and gave a small gulp. It seemed, in this case, she really didn’t have a choice. She followed the fae.