Immortal Suffering

by Shana J Caldwell

  My mother is a local baker while my father is a farmer, tending to the crops that grow behind our home. While my aunt sews clothes and blankets, she also looks after my little brother. After I lost my little sister ten years ago, my parents wanted to take every precaution they could with my brother, he’s six now and my twentieth birthday is only a four days away, I’d been working for my family from the moment I turned twelve and I envied my brother for the six years of freedom he still had.

  “Ravynne Morgan, is that you?” I turn to the sound of my name, pushing the wet black pieces of hair behind my ear. I narrow my eyes as I see Jester Cornrow coming towards me, the local news reporter. We went to school together and he was always the one to start drama with his words of nonsense and lies.

  “Jester.” I clip, I squeeze my hands together as he comes to a stop in front of me. He pushes the wet orange curls back from his face as his blue eyes trail over me, his brown overalls were drenched as well as his newspaper bag.

  “I haven’t seen you in ages. How is everyone?” he asks, leaning against the tree. He looks out towards the crowd, his pale cheeks are flushed pink and covered in a scatter of dark freckles.

  “They’re well, thank you for asking.” I look away from him and study the people around us, a few glance our way with questioning eyes; the scowl on my face doesn’t keep them staring for long. This village is small, and I did well to keep to myself. I had no use for friends, and I hardly had the time for myself these days so I doubt I could handle sharing that with others.

  “If you’re looking for a story, you’re looking in the wrong place.” I say clearly, I feel his eyes focus on me. I stare out of the village and up between the large forest between the mountains. Sitting above us is a large cobblestone castle, housing the most ruthless faerie King that has ever known to exist. Apparently, according to the whispers of the villagers.

  “Why do you think I’m looking for anything?”

  “Because no one talks to me unless they want something or want to get something out of me.” I look back down to my bucket and pick up the handle, I’d already taken too long standing here wasting time on Jester.

  “Rav.”

  I scowl as I turn my head towards him, “Don’t call me that.” I launch myself back into the rain, it muffles out his reply. Good riddance. I haul the bucket across the village until the familiar wooden building of the farming shop comes into view. I walk up the few rickety stairs and open the screen door, it rings a cow bell and announces my arrival.

  I set the bucket down inside as the door shuts behind me. A short thin man comes out from a back room, adjusting the straw hat on his head. I offer my best smile as I walk up to the wooden counter.

  “Ravynne, how are the crops?” He asks, looking over to the wet bucket. I can’t recall his name.

  “Not the best this time of year, but this is the last lot we have until the rain slows down. Da’ is still out sowing, but the quality of those crops will wane. I don’t know what we’re going to do for the winter, it seems everyone in the town is just as worse off as we are.” I shake my head as I retrieve the bucket, I use all my strength as I sit it on top of the counter that just reaches my waist.

  I peel back the lid, a few wet patches are noticeable but apart from that the rest of the wheat had survived the trek. I sigh in relief as he mixes the contents with a wooden spoon.

  “Yes it’s not good at all, if that damned useless faerie actually gave a rats ass about us we could flourish down here.” he shakes his head as he takes the bucket and places it under the counter, he pulls out a brown money bag and begins to count out a few gold coins.

  “That’s true, I haven’t seen him yet.” I say idly, looking out the dusty window at the rain coming down. It was forbidden to talk about the King in such a way, but we had no guards here. No one who could reprimand the folk for speaking ill of him. The King faerie hadn’t left his castle in over twenty years apparently, just before I’d been born. The stories as to why he hadn’t come down since were too muddled to know the real truth, although there are whispers he comes down through the nights to make sure we’re still in line with his ruling.

  The man coughs up phlegm and spits it on the ground beside him, I try not to cringe as I scoop up the ten gold coins. “You’re lucky, he’s a cruel looking thing. You have safe travels now, aight?” I nod my thanks and stuff the gold coins into the secret pocket of my dress, it weighs down comfortably as I take to the rainy streets again. I spare yet another glance towards the castle, an anger so severe threatens to take over me as I see the distant flicker of golden lights. He sits up there in his royal castle and did as he pleased while we were left to starve and die down here.

  I struggle to think of anything else as I head back through town, I move through the crowd like a shadow as I wedge myself between the cluster of people. Once out I quicken my pace, heading down the slope towards my farm. Our home sat at the base of the slope that reaches the village, with a few rare neighbours around us. The ground is slush with mud and I struggle to keep my footing, I try and slow down and my boot connects with a slick rock.

  My arms pinwheel as I fall backwards, my feet fly out from under me as I land hard on my back. I groan as I blink black stars out of my vision and feel the mud soak into my hair and clothes, as I do a shadow falls over me and blocks out the rain and sunlight. A shadow with pointed ears.

  A faerie is standing over me.