He was ancient, even among the Fae. And with age came knowledge. He was valued as an advisor, to the point that even some of the Folk would offer unspecified favors for the chance to hear his wisdom.
Eventually, however, he learned too many secrets, and those who once sought his advice now sought his silence.
But with age also came power. In his case, enough that even the combined might of Summer and Winter hesitated to strike directly. So he made a deal: his voice in exchange for his life and freedom. That way he could not spread others’ secrets, and still continue living.
The deal made, he took a new form, went to a new place, where the Veil was thin, and raised a Hill – not on his own, of course; even he was not that powerful. It was a place of learning for the humans, who had mostly forgotten the Folk. Oh, they remembered the Rules quickly enough – except for those who didn’t – and before long it was almost like old times.
He still remembers the first deal a student made with him. They were nervous, likely testing the waters, as their offering was some kind of common trinket. He gave them a pittance for it, and carried it around the next day. It wasn’t long before other students came to him with similar trinkets for trade, and he humored them just the same.
The Folk of the college mostly left him alone – how much for his power and how much for their ignorance, he couldn’t say (ha!), though he suspected more the latter.
After all, whatever he had been before, here he was just silly old Jimothy.
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