Birdie

"Can anyone give me the name of the first discovered faery?" Asks Mr. Lakes, the history teacher at the Everstile schoolhouse. I'm sure the question was mainly on my behalf, for there is no way for him to know what I had learned at my old school. Cautiously, I raise my hand into the air. The man looks me over with his delicate blue eyes and nods in my direction.

"I believe it was Eliot Owlspeck, sir," I say shyly. Everyone's eyes are upon me, even Pierre's from all the way across the room. They all try and observe the new girl, though they hardly pay any mind to the new faery boy, whom I believe is a far more interesting specimen than myself.

"Right," says Mr. Lakes before resuming his lesson. I really don't need to listen, so I tune him out and stare straight ahead. History has always been my favorite subject. Eliot Owlspeck is nothing new to me. Somewhere around the two thousandth and fiftieth year, a human made the shocking discovery that his friend Eliot was not human. Instead of keeping it between them like friends should, the human found the nearest TV station and exposed Eliot for what he really was- a faery. In an attempt to stop the news of this discovery reaching the rest of the world, Warlocks came out from hiding and used their powers to seal us off from everything else. Humans panicked over this, however, and slaughtered these Warlocks without realizing that killing them would ruin their chances of bringing the boundaries down. The boundaries are a work of powerful, ancient magic that can't be duplicated by just any Warlock. As punishment for causing this panic and the creation of the boundaries that trapped everyone in the United States, Eliot and his human friend were put to death.

I sigh and rub my eyes. Truth be told, I hadn't gotten a wink of sleep the previous night. After Pierre had finished the bird cage for my mechimal, I'd gone upstairs with it and put the bird in it's new home and laid down upon my bed. Of course, I did go and eat the wonderful dinner that had been prepared that night, but other than that my night consisted of me laying in my bed, thoughts dancing through my brain. Mainly, I tried to figure out the significance of this infamous Elena. As of now, I have made no progress.

I turn my head to the right of the room where Pierre sits. He's one of seven fey in this class, but definitely the most unique. He is the tallest, that I can tell anyway, and his hair is very eye-catching. His skin is practically white and it sort of shines if you angle the view just right. The boy next to him, however, is also eye-catching in a way. Everyone around him seems to look right over him as if he's not there, but that's exactly what gets me to notice him. He's probably around my height with a nice pigment of pink to his skin. His short hair is pitch black and his eyes are the prettiest green I've ever seen. His fingers tap nervously against the desk, his eyes flickering from Pierre, to the window, and then back to the desk.

Then, I see why. Two boys behind him are snickering, flicking small pieces of paper at him. The boy next to Pierre draws in a breath, his fingers drumming in what I now see is pure annoyance. These two boys are bullying him and he's trying his hardest to ignore his tormentors. His eyes close for a regrettably long time. It is almost as if I can see the poor boys thoughts. I know he'll stand before he even stands. However, while I had thought he'd turn and hit the boys, he does something entirely different.

He snaps his hands forward, a palm each poised in the direction of each boy. They stop laughing as their victim opens his mouth, starting to mutter a phrase in a language I do not understand. Beside him, Pierre's eyes travel up, but he keeps himself quiet and watches all of this unfold. By now, everyone in the class is watching him- even Mr. Lakes has stopped his lesson. The boy's chanting gets louder, "Cogere retrorsum."

The boys' eyes get wide just before they are pushed backward by some unseen force. They crash to the floor, their backs hitting first. They share a moan of agony. The boy with the green eyes quickly looks down at his hands as if he hadn't realized what he'd done. He looks disgusted with himself. He slowly turns around, coming face-to-face with Mr. Lakes. I hadn't seen the teacher move, but apparently he had. His arms are crossed, eyebrows raised. "Do you mind explaining why that was a necessity, Warlock?"

"I have a name," he whispers in reply.

"Your name is of no importance. You've harmed two helpless students using magic. I'd think it's best if you waited outside for the remainder of the day." Mr. Lakes walks back up to the front of the class while the boy just bites down on the inside of his lip, grabs his stuff and exits the classroom, his two tormentors laughing all the while. Why didn't he tell the teacher of the two boys' wrong doings, that he was provoked? Why didn't he stand up for himself?

The rest of the afternoon ticks by ever so slowly. At the end of the day, Pierre meets me at the front gate of the school and starts to walk me to the carriage where Anastas waits for the both of us. I glance behind us as we walk and see teh Warlock boy from earlier, sitting on the steps. I stop in my tracks and spin in his direction, unhooking my arm from my faery escort. I'm about to walk over and ask him if he's okay, if he needs a ride back to his home when I see them. The two boys who had been messing with him earlier stroll into view. It takes a moment for the Warlock to notice the pair but as soon as he does, he's up and running. He struggles and pushes his way through our classmates and out onto the street. He turns and the boys follow quickly after.

There's a quick, intense feeling that shoots through my body and aderniline starts to course through my veins. I whisper hastily to Pierre, "Tell Anastas to wait for us in the carriage and then catch up with me, all right?"

I assume he nods because he then runs toward our carriage. I bundle the hem of my dress in my hands and take off in the direction that the boy and his chasers went. I turn down the street I saw the Warlock turn on but after that, I have no idea where they went. I spent too much time staring when I should have been running. I wasted too much time. I sigh and sprint down the street, ducking through alleys and weaving through civillians. Eventually, I catch a glimpse of one the boys entering another alley and I sprint to catch up with them.

When I see them, I gasp in shock. The Warlock trips and that gives one of the boys the perfect oppurtunity to snatch him up. The Warlock hisses in pain as the boy brings his arms behind them and holds them there. It isn't until the Warlock starts muttering that something odd happens. The boy holding his arms drops them and immediately grabs the Warlocks wrists, pressing his thumbs down hard on the center of his wrists, where his veins are. The boy grins and slams the Warlock's body into the brick wall that closes in the alley. His eyes catch mine.

"Come to watch this disgusting creature get what he deserves?"

I don't know where I find the courage, but the next few words out my mouth are my bravest yet. "Not unless that disgusting creature is you."

He just sneers and calls out to his friend, who had caugth up with him but had just been wathing with a smirk on his face. "Pessle, get her out of here."

"I can't hit a girl, Freer!"

Freer sighs inwardly, pressing harder on the Warlock's wrists. "I'm not asking you to! Just get her out of here!"

Pessle just shakes his head and sprints toward me. Every natural instinct in my body is telling me to run away, get away from the horrid things these boys are going to do here today. Who am I to be so bold as to save a Warlock, a creature I've never before seen until this afternoon? I am but a country with no will to fight or to stand up for myself, so why am I fighting so hard to protect this stranger? It's unnatural to me, this protective feeling, but it's human and I am not about to fight it. I stand my ground as Pessle comes at me. I raise my hands to cover my face, clenching my eyes shut-

"Ah!" Pessle screams out. I open my eyes to find the male at my feet with vines that extend from the cracks of the alley's walls and have wrapped themselves around Pessle. I take a second to marvel at my hands, wandering if I did this and how when Pierre steps out from behind me, his hands poised and ready. He must have saved me. After all, faeries do control nature magic.

Pierre doesn't say a single word. As he steps forward, his hands turn into fists and the vines around Pessle tighten until the boy is sobbing. The faery turns his attention to Freer and I do as well. He has the Warlock on the ground now, hands presing into his veins but his feet kicking the poor boy's ribs and occassionaly his head. Again, that feeling of pride and protective instincts race through my body and I'm angered to no end. I rush forward the best I can in my dress and fling myself onto Freer.

We tumble to the ground and I smack him as hard as I can. His cheek is red and sore as he pushes me off of him and climbs on top of me. His nostrils flare in anger and he raises his fist to hit me. I don't even close my eyes or block my face. If he wants to hit me for doing the right thing, he can do as he pleases. But as his fist is coming down, Pierre conjures vines from the wall next to us and it finds its way to Freer's wrist and holds it in place. He tugs hard on it, but that only furthers the vine's grip on him. While he struggles with the vine, I wriggle myself free from under him and run behind Pierre. I wrap my arms around his waist and hide my face.

Pierre flicks his wrists and the vines on each of the boys simotainously throw them forward, both landing their faces against the rough pavement, and releases them. The two stand quickly and glare at Pierre. He just shrugs and I tighten my grip. "Next time, I suggest that you talk out your problems in the form of a verbal complaint."

"What'd you expect us to do? Warlocks and Fey are disgusting, merciless creatures who destroyed our nation. They deserve nothing but torture and death," Freer spits. Pessle nods in agreement.

I feel Pierre's muscles tense up against my arms. He's angry and their in the crossfire. His breathing becomes rigid. "If you want to live with your skin still intact, I'd get far away from here."

The two look at each other and then back at Pierre. Considering they just got beat, they sprint off in the other direction. Once they're gone, I finally notice that I'm wrapped so tightly arround Pierre. I move away quickly and he coughs softly to break the tension. We then turn our attention the Warlock. I hold out my hand to him and help him up. "Are you okay?"

He nods slowly. "Thank you for helping out. But you really shouldn't have. Those two, among others, beat me sensless every day. I never turn on them like I did today, and I had to pay for it... They'll never leave you two alone now either."

"Well, we can handle those punks. And we can watch out for you, if you like. But why not stand up for yourself?" Pierre asks.

"I don't know where you two came from, but no human is a big fan of faeries or Warlocks. At least not here in Everstile, or any town or city in the Human Kingdom that has them in it."

"What?" I ask, completely astonished. I'd grown up in a small village, no faeries or Warlocks in sight. How could anyone hate such facisinating creatures?

"Humans blame us for the existence of the Barriers and they also live in fear of us. And when idiots are scared, idiots find hatred in what they fear. Blind hatred is the very thing that fuels most humans." I don't even know how to respond, so I just train my eyes on the ground. I wish I had something to say to fight for the respect of my species. The sad part is that I believe every word he says. My parents, as much as I do love them, were hateful people, especially hateful of things they feared or didn't understand.

"Look," he continues, "Thanks for saving me. I do appreciate it."

"I barely did anything, it was all Pierre," I blush. The green eyed boy just smiles.

"But you had the bravery to knock Freer down, or to even follow them in the first place. I appreciate it."

"Listen, if they give you trouble again, try and find a way to let us know. We won't let someone be punished for nothing," Pierre offers and the boy nods. "I'm Pierre Stillson, and this is Skye Deerly. I work under her uncle, and I do not think he would mind if you were a guest to our dinner table one of these nights."

"I'd absolutely adore it if you had dinner with us," I smile brightly. "Possibly tomorrow, if that's all right with you, uh-"

"Tai, Tai Reathe."

"Well Tai, you give our offer some thought and we'll see you tomorrow. Do you need a ride home?"

"No, I live near here, but thank you. And I will most definitely consider your offer. Thank you so, so much."

After that, Tai starts his walk home and Pierre and I walk back to where Anastas waits. I walk close to his side, smiling all the while. It certainly was a scary event but we did the right thing. I breathe in the city air and feel great about myself. For the rest of the day, this feeling lasts and I never want it to go away. Not only did we save him, but we may have gained a friend. I have been gainign friends right and left since I moved and I can't help but feel more comfortable here at the Silversmythe Manor.

I finally have a life here.