A Swirling, Sinking Memory
“Alright, my little Nevvie. One more before bed—but just one!”
“Yay!” Nev cried, scurrying across the coarse rugs to the bookshelf hewn into the stone walls.
He slid the first picture book carefully back in his shelf next to the sticks and leaves he’d made into faenriin figures to play with. It was right above the nightblooms, and he traced his claw along their roots for good luck before grabbing the best book he owned.
He brought the book to Mama and nestled back into the nest of blankets and pillows, his baby wing so snug and cozy against Mama’s warm scales that he didn’t even mind it was so little.
Nev held out the book, and the pages fell open to a palace of red and white. Beside it, the words of Nev’s favorite faenriin tale unfurled from the spires like royal banners.
Mama gave a low chuckle that vibrated against Nev’s scales. She didn’t say anything about this being the second time she’d read it tonight.
“‘Once upon a time,’” she began, “‘there was a handsome faenriin prince who lived in a giant palace made of pure crystal.
“‘Yet for as beautiful as his palace was, and for how nice his subjects were, there was one thing missing: a princess with whom his heart felt at peace.
“‘The prince combed the crystalline city of Ayaliis, asking every faenriin in their silks and gems. He searched the mana-painted countryside, climbing mountains more colorful than rainbows and scouring valleys filled with iridescent mist that tinkled like bells. But nowhere did he find the one for whom his heart sang.
“‘When he listened to his heart, he knew why. His one true love would be found in Drakien, not Faenrien.
“‘The intrepid prince organized a ship and crew, and he set out over the Great Mana Sea, battling monstrous waves and mana so thick it stung his eyes and choked his breath.
“‘Finally, his feet touched upon the ground of the Land of Dragons, and he set out on his adventure.
“‘The dragons he met were kind and wise, and each was happy to give him a gift of a gem or knowledge. Yet not a single one had seen another faenriin.
“‘He continued onward, deeper into the heart of the continent. Here he met some dragons who were neither kind nor wise. With his creation magic, he wove gifts from the air itself. Between this dazzling spectacle and the shiny baubles, he convinced these would-be villains to leave him be. For those he could not, his enchanted sword did what it must.
“‘He traveled for days and nights in search of his love, climbing mountains painted with sun and scouring valleys lush with jungle. After many years, he came upon a city not of crystal but of stone. Here he heard a voice more beautiful than any, drifting through the mist and enchanting him, body and heart.
“‘He followed the voice to find a faenriin maiden even lovelier than her voice, with long, flowing hair of white and red. At her song grew roses, and she held them in her hands, offering them to the weary prince.
“‘The two fell deeply in love, and the faenriin prince brought her back with him to his palace. They wed amongst the crystalline spires, their hair draped in roses and their hearts intertwined. And they lived happily ever after,’” Mama finished, nuzzling her chin against Nev’s head.
Nev didn’t close the book right away. Instead, his claw lingered on the illustration of the faenriin, the prince in red and the princess in white, roses decorating their bodies and their palace.
Had Mama and Papa been like that? Fallen in love and had a pretty wedding with flowers and smiles?
“Mama,” he asked, “is it true that faenriin can create anything they want?”
“Well, of course it is!” Mama cooed. “Anything their heart desires: colorful flowers or shimmering garments and gems. Even your favorite sweetberries!”
Nev looked between the bride and groom faenriin, tracing the lines of the bouquet of roses they held together. His chest was a little achy, and his voice was low as he asked, “Can they create love?”
Mama let out a soft breath against Nev’s head. “What do you mean, little nestling?”
“If I could use their magic, maybe I could make Papa come back.”
“Oh, my darling boy,” Mama breathed, wrapping her big wing around Nev’s tiny body. The smell of fire and smoke came from it, and it made Nev’s tears break free. She wiped them away with her claw. “Never think it was because of you. Never.”
“Could they, though?” he whispered, blinking hard as he looked up at her. “Create love?”
“No,” Mama replied firmly, her dark grey eyes smoky and comforting. “Even a faenriin can’t create love where there is none—not true love. Because love is only true when it comes from your heart.”
“How do you know it comes from your heart?”
“You’ll feel it, deep inside.” Mama placed her claw against his chest; it felt sturdy and as warm as her fire breath on a gloomy day. “When you’re with them, you’ll be the happiest you’ve ever been, and you’ll feel warm and secure because you know you can always trust them. Just like you and me.” Her scales creased into a wide smile as she placed her claw against his cheek. “I knew from the moment you hatched from your egg that I would love you forever.”
Nev hugged Mama tight. He believed her. He really did. And maybe Papa....
No, it didn’t matter what Papa had thought or felt. He had Mama, and he didn’t need anything else, because that was the best thing in the world.
His eyes opened, but they were still stuck on the faenriin’s roses, their intertwined hands, their wide smiles. His chest ached again.
“Mama,” he murmured, “do you think I’ll ever fall in love?”
Mama hugged him tighter. “If that’s what your heart desires, I’m certain of it.”
“Would you love me any less?”
“Sweetest child, that’s not how love works,” Mama said, her fire warming Nev’s scales as she nuzzled his head. “I will never stop loving you, no matter if you are in my arms or making a cave with your beloved. In fact, I’ll be the one most eager to welcome you to your first cave, bringing roses for the one who makes your heart sing!”
“Nightblooms!”
Mama chuckled. “Nightblooms, then. I promise you, my dearest.”
