“I apologize. I have a lot on my mind, but I don’t mean to waste your time. Thank you for the tea—it’s delicious.” I took another sip to emphasize the point. “I came here to ask about your healing power. How it works—how you mastered it.”
“Have you decided to accept that you’re a healer, then?” She asked with a smirk. I looked down sheepishly as she took my tea and set it on the small table that sat between us. Next, she cupped my hands in hers.
“Healing follows its own rules. I began to heal quickly from wounds around the age of sixteen, when my bleeding began. There aren’t many like us. I sought out another in a nearby village to learn more. She had the ability to mend others with her hands and taught me the art. It took yearsto master, but now when I touch someone, like this…” She motioned to my hands in hers. “I can feel their pain. I can locate the source and tell whether it’s physical or mental. I’ve found that one is not any more real than the other. Once I pinpoint the pain, I move my hands to the spot where it resides—” She set her hands on my head. “—And absorb it. My magic seeks out what needs to be mended and makes quick work of taking away pain.”
“I feel that you’re hurting up here,” she said, tapping my skull. “Sometimes we lack the ability to mend our own mental wounds. May I?”
I nodded tentatively. She placed her hands around my head and took one, two, three deep breaths. I watched her eyes crinkle in concentration. A small gasp left her as my shoulders sagged, and I suddenly felt less burdened.
She had taken something from me that I hadn’t realized I’d been holding onto—a deep well of sadness and fear—not only from my mother’s death, but my father’s rejection. Grief for my old life and guilt about Deric, about enjoying parts of this new life.
I couldbreathe, as if a boulder had been lifted from my chest. I dove towards her, wrapping my arms around her in gratitude, not caring if it was the proper thing to do.
“This feeling of relief—it won’t stay with you. Your problems will come back and you’ll still have to comb through those emotions and work out the knots. But I hope I helped you realize what you can hold onto, and what you can let go of. Sometimes we hold on to pain because it’s the only thing we think we have left of someone, but that’s simply not the case. Our loved ones live on through us.”
The truth of her words hurt. I wore my mother’s death around me like a shawl, afraid to forget her. “I’d love to come back and practice with you—when you have time, of course. I’d be happy to pay you for your trouble.”
A bold statement for someone with no money. My cheeks burned with embarrassment as I waited for her answer.
“No need, I’d be happy to help. I could use some female company. I spend almost all of my time with a human man.” Her eyes looked like crescent moons when she laughed.
“And I, Fae males. Please… some female company would be lovely.” I’d found a kindred spirit across galaxies—that in itself felt like fate.
“Youhave a human… partner?” I wasn’t sure if that was the right word choice.
“He’s my source. I protect him, house him, feed him… and in turn, he provides me with magic. He’s a skilled botanist as well. He grows many of the medicinal plants I need to make my potions. My magic can handle most injuries and illnesses, but sometimes medicine is a cheaper, equally effective alternative. I’m one healer in a village of thousands. I simply cannot fix everyone. Poor Odin would have no blood left if I did.” She laughed, somehow able to make light of the curse.
“What’s it like for Odin… as a human?”
Melisandre’s friendly demeanor vanished. She looked at me suspiciously, straightening her spine.
I fumbled to explain myself. “I ask because I’m not from this world. I recently arrived from Erador. I’m a hybrid, though I thought I was only human until recently…”
Meli stared at me like I’d grown another head. “Y-you just arrived fromErador?But how?No wonder you’re under the Kingdom’s protection—this is incredible news! Are you going back? Are you taking others with you?” She nearly bowled me over with her enthusiasm.
“I’m not sure how I arrived here. I was sleeping in my world and woke up here. I might be a world walker, but don’t know how to use my powers if I am. I’m hoping to go back… eventually. I’m currently under the Queen’s watchful eye, learning how to wield my powers. Nobody knows about magic where I’m from. Faeries have somehow been erased from history.”
“Erased from history? In two-hundred years? That seems nearly impossible without the aid of strong magic. You must have a powerful mind manipulator in your world to have accomplished that—or perhaps the gods have decided to get involved. But… why would they want to hide our existence?” Meli looked hurt—offended.
I took her hand in mine. “This is sensitive information, Meli. Please, don’t tell anyone. I won’t pretend that I plan to open a bridge to Erador for all. My people wouldn’t be safe. In time, I hope to have more answers for you.”
“I understand. And to answeryourquestion… about Odin—it’s been getting increasingly dangerous for us. You saw the men harassing me the other day. That’s far too common for any faeries that reside with humans these days. There’s a tension growing. The magic shortage—the fear of what will happen if humans die out—it’s caused panic. Odin and I have talked about leaving, but the rural areas are hurting even more than the larger villages. Nowhere feels safe anymore.” Meli looked at me with an intensity that bordered on desperation.
I wondered… did she care for Odin as more than her source? I didn’t ask, knowing it would put her safety in jeopardy to even suggest such a thing.
“I’ve got just one more question.” I hesitated, but she gave me an encouraging smile. “I’ve been seeing glowing colors around people… auras, I believe. It’s a new development… I’m not sure what it means.” I trailed off as I looked down at my feet, afraid I might just be losing my mind.
Meli’s smile widened. “You aren’t crazy.” She looked past me with an unfocused gaze and I knew what she was doing—readingmyaura. “You say aura? We sayUhra… like Ooh-Rah. It meanssoulin the language of the Fae. Most cannot see them. But healers, oracles, necromancers—anyone who is clairvoyant can see uhras. Typically, I just catch a glimpse of someone’s soul; but with trust and connection, sometimes I see more.”
“Can you see mine?” I asked, feeling self-conscious.
“Yes… it’s gold and blindingly bright. You stand out—you need to be carefulwith who you trust. There’sa lot of energy buzzing around you. It’s bound to attract attention, especially from those who seek power. I’m sure the Queen keeps uhra readers near her— something to be mindful of.”
“What do you meanreaders?”
“Some faeries spend a lifetime trying to interpret uhra shapes and colors. Some make a career of it. A red soul shows dominance… passion. Blue… empathy, tranquility. Yellow… optimism and warmth. Green… independence and ingenuity. Personally, I don’t believe in over-simplifying something as complex as a soul. Uhras can shift and change throughout one’s life or even with our moods. They can mask themselves if a soul is conflicted enough—show a false color, for example. Trust your gut when it comes to reading them. That’s my advice.”
Meli had no idea how much she’d already done for me. She was a beacon, guiding me through the fog I’d been stuck in since arriving. I’d never be able to repay her for her kindness.
