Lilith sat at the bar, looking down at her book. She wasn’t reading - she just needed something to hide behind. Something to mask the fact her brain was working double time, mulling over the events of the past week. So she sat, in peaceful silence, until it was brutally interrupted by the characteristic screeching noise of someone pulling back one of the old bar stools.
“Can I get you a drink?” the intruder asked.
“Do I look like I need one?” Lilith shot back. The intruder shrugged. She smiled broadly.
“You’re at the Fox & Hound pub, dear, everyone who comes here needs a drink.” She tilted her head ever so slightly. “So, what’ll it be? I’m paying.”
“I presumed as much, since you are the one who came out with the proposal.” Lilith raised an eyebrow. After a moment, she sighed. “A glass of red wine, then. Please.”
“Of course, red wine it is.” The intruder waved over the bartender and ordered two red wines. She then turned to Lilith, regarding her with bright, icy blue eyes. Lilith took that moment to better regard her company as well - bright blue eyes, almost unnaturally so, dark, coiled hair, with silver highlights of sorts, and dark skin. She was of immense beauty - almost dangerous beauty.
“I’m Jane, Jane Clairview.” The intruder introduced herself. “May I have your name?”
“I can tell you my name,” Lilith raised her chin, provocatively. “But you may not own it in any way - it is Lilith. Lilith Ardenclove.”
“I see you’ve met the fae.” The intruder laughed. “I am not, however, of those who steal names, you can believe me on that one.”
“Right.” Lilith turned back to the bar, upon which the barkeep had placed the two wines. She took a deep sip from the glass as Jane chuckled.
“Right, I can see that you definitely did not need that drink.” She sipped her own wine silently, still observing Lilith closely, mischief twinkling in her eyes. “Who are you, Lilith Ardenclove?”
“I don’t understand your question, Jane Clairview.”
“You do.” She grew closer to Lilith - so close in fact, that their faces were divided only by the width of two fingers. Lilith looked into the eyes of her companion - those icy blue eyes - and the flickers of cold fire within them, and those sparks of magic, a sight Lilith was all too accustomed to. “What is there about you Lilith - what makes you immune to my charm?”
“Who are you, Jane Clairview?” Lilith tilted her head. “What is it in you that gives you that spark? You are not of the folk of the air, this much is evident.” Jane simply chuckled.
“Very well then, Lilith.” She smiled, taking another sip of her wine. “You keep your secrets, I shall keep mine.”
Lilith drained her wine glass and gathered her things into her bag. She took one last look at her companion, Jane Clairview, and bid her goodbye, leaving the pub. She put on her thick red scarf, tied her cloak firmly around her body, and began the trek back to her flat. The Fox & Hound pub was conveniently placed within 20 minutes of where Lilith lived - and within half an hour’s trek to the forest. She often came to the Fox & Hound after her time spent in the forest, as it was the only place in the vicinity that was still open at that time, and it was warm, which was much needed after the neverending autumn of the clearing. Lilith wished to forget that place - but she could not find it in herself, she couldn’t forget. She kept on returning to The Valley in her thoughts, to Caterina, to the Folk, and the life she used to lead. It had taken her much to create a place for herself in this new and alarming world, and remembering was a dangerous thing - it was something that tied her to the world she had chosen to leave.
She never found out who it was she had been before she lived in The Valley. She tried, looking for records of missing children from when she presumed to have been born - but her search was fruitless. So instead, she created a new identity, instead of looking for one that once was. She gave herself a family name, called herself an orphan, and enrolled in music school, and rented out an apartment with the help of one tiny little deception.
She had found something unusual within her little violin - it was not from the material world, as she had presumed before. The violin had grown with her, it had taught her how to play, without notes and without a teacher. The little violin was a gift for her - a gift from the Folk. Her first interaction with the Folk happened within the first week of her leaving The Valley. A faery had walked up to her at school, asking for her name. She saw beyond its veil - the magic that swirled within its soul. She refused, later deciding to research magical creatures in the lore of the islands she had found herself upon. She learned of the fae, of their legendary kings, of the Túatha Dé Danann, of their legends and mythologies. Armed with this knowledge, she felt safer, and moved onward through life, utilising the power within the little violin when she truly needed it. She considered herself safe. Until she met Jane.
Jane haunted her mind - for what reason, she was unsure. True, she represented a race Lilith had never met before. But was that truly reason to worry so much? She wasn’t sure. Still, she grew convinced as the weeks passed by - she needed to understand. So, she left the safety of the apartment she had found refuge in, to search for Jane Clairview, armed only with her convictions. And, of course, the little violin.
“I knew you’d be back here.” Jane smiled, as Lilith slid back into that bar chair, in the pub they had first met. “Are you ready to exchange information, Lilith Ardenclove?” Lilith nodded.
“Yes, Jane Clairview.” She said. “I will tell you my secrets, if you promise to tell me yours.” Jane spread out her arms in a welcoming gesture.
“Of course, a fair trade, Lilith Ardenclove.”
“Please, call me not by my full name.”
“Very well. You too, Lilith, call me Jane.”
“As you wish.” Lilith got up from the stool. “I shall go first with my secrets. This, however, is not the place to share them. Are you willing to go on a short walk?”
“Of course,” Jane smiled. “Whatever suits you.”
The two left the pub, and Lilith led Jane towards the forest. They barely shared a word on that walk, the silence only occasionally broken by the sound of Lilith correcting the straps on her violin case. They walked swiftly - something within Lilith was eager to show a person from the outside that clearing that held such value to her and Caterina. At long last, after a good half an hour, they made it to the clearing.
The clearing was beautiful. It was new - neither the way Lilith remembered it to be the past seven years, nor the way it had been long ago, in the days of Lilith’s girlhood. The hawthorn stood proudly, the River of Sorrow was filled with joy, the fog was nowhere to be seen, and the grasses were, every so often, broken by beautiful, young flowers. It was breathtaking - a beautiful spring amidst the grey of November.
“I grew up in this place.” Lilith smiled. “I had a sister - a friend. Her name was Caterina.” Jane tilted her head, puzzled. “She called this place The Valley.” Lilith undid her scarf. “Don’t worry about the cold, this place is governed by its own rules.”
“How is it that you grew up here, if you belong to the mortal realm?”
“I do not know.” Lilith replied. “I do not know many things - and am not good at telling stories.” She opened her violin case. “I shall, instead, let my instrument tell the story for me.” She tuned the little violin and began playing.
And she played - and the little violin told the story of a beautiful, pure, childhood love. It told the tale of two girls, belonging to the clearing, of Lilith and Caterina, of how they grew. It told of the day it was found by Lilith, of how the girl fell for its music and how she devoted herself entirely to it. It told of how it grounded Lilith in her reality - and of how Caterina grew distant. It told of that acheronian day - the one upon which Lilith lost her first love. It told of the guilt Lilith felt - of how she would visit The Valley every day for seven years, to keep it company. It told of how Lilith played for The Valley, and of how that act cleared her of her fault, and freed the clearing from her guilt and sorrow. It told of how this was the first time Lilith had visited the clearing since she had played for it. And as she played, and the little violin told that story, The Valley listened, and many spirits came and listened too - pulled forth by the peculiar vision of a mortal playing one of their instruments.
“Not many mortals would be able to play the way you do,” Jane spoke once the music was finished. “Not any, I believe. Do you understand what this means, Lilith? I do not believe you are fully of the mortal world. I think you may belong to mine.”
“Then show me your world, Jane.” Lilith placed the little violin gently in its case, fastening the clasps and placing it on her back. “Keep your end of the promise.”
“I will.” Jane smiled. “Follow me.”
The two companions left the forest behind, and Lilith felt lighter than air. She was deeply relieved that she showed the clearing to someone from the outside - she had proof now, that it had all happened, that she was not mad. She had proof now, that it was over - that she was free to come and go, to do as she wished. It was a dangerous thought - complete and utter freedom to do as one wished. She found it exhilarating.
Jane led Lilith further into the wilder parts of the country. They pressed further and further away from the little town Lilith lived in, and towards the cliffs that marked the seashore. The closer they grew to the cliffs, the more alive Jane appeared, the more colour appeared in her cheeks. Her hair grew more and more silvery, glittering in the lowering sunlight. Soon enough, it became twilight - but Lilith found that she saw everything just as clearly as in the harsh light of midday. They approached the cliffs rapidly, stopping just before them. Jane took a deep breath, reveling in the salt air. She turned to Lilith, smiling.
“You showed me your world,” she started. “This is mine. You were right in saying I am not of the Folk of the Air - but I am of the Folk.” She stepped forward. “Can you guess of which?”
“The Folk of the Sea.” Lilith breathed in awe. Jane smiled, nodding.
“Not entirely, of course - I am part Folk.” She stepped closer still to Lilith, making the space between them once more that of two finger widths. She studied Lilith’s eyes carefully. “No, you are not of the Sea. Nor are you of the Air. Who are you then, Lilith?”
They stood on that cliffside, pondering the question - and Lilith felt her world, that she so carefully crafted, making a place for herself amongst mortals, collapse slowly but surely with each unspoken question that hung in the salt air between them.
