Riding atop a white, armored horse, Tor Moraine lead two columns of mounted soldiers along a road that wound around the top of a hill. He was hunting fairies.
"Shh! Quiet!" he commanded, suddenly, at the same time he raised a clenched fist. In unison, the riders who followed him reined their horses to a stop and became as quiet as possible. "There are fairies nearby," he added after several moments of hushed alertness.
A tall, armored, and athletically-built woman rode up beside him as quietly as possible. Gracefully, she leaned over in her saddle and whispered, "How can you be certain?"
"Simple. There are dancing lights down there." Tor pointed down the side of the hill upon which they were stopped. Following his finger, the woman, Bethe, saw what he was talking about: there appeared to be soft, blinking lights somewhere beyond the trees. She was impressed by how he could spot such dim lights at this distance. But then again, Tor always did have a keen sense for the supernatural.
"Finding them was even easier than I had hoped." Tor slid down from his saddle, wrapped his dark cloak around his long, lean form, and made his way towards the incline that was between him and those lights. "Wait here," he whispered over his shoulder. "I'll check it out, myself."
In an instant, Bethe was on her feet, beside him once again. "Is it wise to go down there by yourself, Lord Loviotor?"
Tor grinned at her, the contrast between his teeth and his dark skin making his smile appear bright even in the low light of early evening. After all these years, Bethe still insisted on using his title and full name in public. The only time she relaxed was when they enjoyed each other behind closed doors.
"Stand down, Captain," he said, reciprocating the formality, although there was a playful tone in his voice. "I think I can handle a handful of fairies enjoying their sundown frolic. If it turns out I need your help, I'll scream hysterically.
"In the meantime, you and the men can watch the road. Make certain we don't get any unwanted passersby making too much noise and scaring away my little friends."
Bethe tapped her fist to her left breast in a salute. "As you command, my Lord." Tor flashed a new grin at her, for he always found her strict adherence to military protocol amusing, as well as endearing. Turning around, he made his way down the hill, while behind him his guard captain used gestures to order riders to watch the road in both directions.
The boots that Tor wore were enchanted to make his movements more quiet, which was why his half-jog, half-slide down the hill didn't make nearly as much noise as it should have. He had enchanted his cloak as well - it made him blend in with his surroundings far better than non-magical camouflage could.
Once at the bottom of the hill, he quietly made his way towards the source of the lights. He tiptoed over thick roots and sneaked around tree trunks until he spotted what he was looking for: multiple wisps of living light dancing above flowers in a clearing. The fey folk - like all creatures - were predictable as long as one knew what to look for. Tor knew that in this region of Sildare, if he could locate a clearing full of lilies or violets at dusk, and if he was careful in his approach, he could sneak up on some fairies.
Convincing them to give him what he wanted was a different challenge, however.
Hiding in the shadow of a tree, the wizard watched the fairies frolic. More importantly, he listened for the song they were all but guaranteed to be singing, for a good sundown frolic always came with singing. Once he heard the faint tune and memorized the gist of it, he began to whistle it. As he whistled, he opened up his cloak, thus ending its camouflage spell, and stepped out into the open.
The sudden appearance of a human made most of the fairies fly away, but some stayed, just as he predicted. The tomes said that the fey were a curious folk. Tor suspected they wouldn't be able to resist asking this man why he knew their song, and that suspicion turned out to be right.
Wisps of green, yellow, blue, red and one purple light floated over to him. Some flew slow circles around his torso, while others hovered near his head. He could feel a few of poke at his brown cheeks or tug on the unnaturally white hairs of his neatly trimmed beard. Letting them do whatever they wished, for now, the mage assumed they were not at all familiar with things like facial hair or complexions like his. They likely didn't know much about humans, at all.
"Why are you whistling our song, human?" One of the fairies asked. Once that first question was asked, several more followed in quick succession. It was like a dam of curiosity had broken.
"Yeah! And how did you learn it, man thing?!" another one asked.
"What's this under your clothes? Metal? Why are you wearing metal?"
"I think that's called armor. It's for protection."
"Protection from what? Us? Is he going to hurt us?" One of the floating lights sped upward, out of Tor's reach, even though he wasn't doing anything except standing there.
"I bet he was spying on us!"
"There's no way he could've spied on us! He's so big and loud, we would've noticed him in a second!"
"You wouldn't have, Tillicent! You wouldn't notice if your fanny were on fire!"
"That's so mean, Zenzephiriil!" Tor heard giggling from the purple light, followed by the noise of maybe a dozen diminutive voices exploding into diminutive arguments. The fairies began to circle around one another as they argued and yelled over each other. He smiled to himself, for this showed that they had already forgotten to be afraid of him.
"Now, now, little ones. No need to argue," he said, gently. Tor needed to be careful around the fey, for a shout or a deep exhale was enough to send one or two them flying. Once they were reminded that a strange human was among them, the fairies resumed revolving around him or hovering above his head.
"I was whistling your song because it's so catchy. Truly, your kind are gifted musicians to compose such a memorable melody." Tor saw a few of the lights bobbing, as though they were nodding in agreement. "Tell me, please, little singers, would you be willing to teach me another one of your songs?"
"That depends," the purple light said, suspiciously, now hovering in front of Tor's face. He could tell from the sound of its voice that the purple one was female. "If we teach you, what's in it for us?"
"Yeah! What's in it for us, huh?" More of the fairies flew right in front of his face.
"Do you have any candy? I tried human candy once, and I really liked it."
"Yeah, I tried candy, too!"
"No you didn't, Hartus. Stop lying, you liar."
"I'm not lying! And don't call me a liar, you dink!"
The mage interrupted them before they got distracted by more arguing. "As a matter of fact," he said, "I happen to have some candy on me. If your most talented singer teaches me one of your favorite songs, I'll give you some.
"Now, who among you is the most talented singer?"
"I am!" the purple light exclaimed while bobbing in the air, excitedly.
"I don't know, Zenzephiriil, you're quite good, but Hinly..."
"Hinly nothing!" Zenzephiriil got right up in the other fairy's face. "Sure she's good, but I've got more vocal range. I can go really high, and I can sing low if I really want to. She can't go as high as I can, and you know it!" The other fairy didn't respond. He just sort of drifted backwards.
"Well? Who here agrees that I'm the best singer?" No one responded to Zenzephiriil immediately. But eventually, begrudgingly, some of them muttered an agreement.
Spinning in the air as though she were running a victory lap, the purple light flew up to Tor's eye line. "See? I'm the best. Everybody says so."
The mage suppressed a laugh. He liked this purple fairy. She had moxy. "Yes, I heard. I also heard your name: Zenzephiriil. Am I saying that right?"
"Yep!" She did a backflip in the air, happy to hear a human say her name and get it right.
"Zenzephiriil is a pretty name. It's long, though. How about I call you Zeph, for short?"
"Zeph, for short?" She parroted him, perhaps because the concept of shortening a name was unfamiliar to fairies.
"Yes. It's called a nickname, or a short version of your full name. Your nickname will be Zeph, if it pleases you."
She considered it in silence for a few moments, then suddenly danced before his eyes. "Yep! I like it! You hear that everybody?! My nickname is Zeph!"
"Hey, I want a nickname too!"
"Yeah, me too!"
"Give me one next!"
Tor quickly learned that dealing with fairies required a lot of patience. He felt like a teacher trying to control a class full of rowdy children. This single encounter reminded him why he never did like school as a kid, and why he preferred to learn on his own his whole life: because children were stupid.
Pushing back the annoyance he could feel bubbling up within him, the white-haired wizard sought to calm them down. "Now, now, little singers, one thing at a time. I'm only a man. And I'm not as quick as you are."
