A Kingdom's Wings

UNKNOWN POV Fae do not exist. Two thousand years ago, they were wiped from the species map. Gone completely, and nobody, be they werewolf, vampire, human, witch, or any other creature that wanders in this realm, has seen one since. Except for me. What happened is still too raw in my mind, so I have taken pen to paper to organize my scattered thoughts. The event took place two nights ago. I was in patrolling in the woods, my usual route. The wolves have the other side of the lake; they cross the border from time to time. Animalistic wretches is all they are, taking from us, those they deem as less than for our morality. Our food, our women, they take it all but expect us to be grateful when we are overlooked. As I was saying, I was on patrol. It could not have been that far from midnight, I am sure of it. No wolves. No animals of any kind. I keep replaying it in my head again and again— the air was still, free of the usual summer breeze. The chitter of the squirrels was absent as was the night song of the owl. Not a rustle of a leaf nor a snap of a twig. I am not crazy. The forest did not move or breath, nor did I after it appeared. The world, and I, stood suspended for a time gone unnoticed, taken in by a light warmer than the sun. It was soft, white. It beckoned with a grace like a mistress lain bare under the moon. It pulsed like the very rhythm of the heart, though not mine for it could have rivelled the hummingbirds wings for speed. I remember thinking it was a nasty tricks of those wolves, a new way to lure us in. No sooner did the thought cross my mind than the light spoke. I am not crazy. I have dug into the very recesses of my mind. I cannot remember what it said, save for this; "I will come forth again." Here lies the trouble for me now. A voice softer than the clouds yet as jagged as rock. One that seduces and also instills terror. The voice of a child and a warrior. A voice that replenishes the earth while setting it on fire. The voice of a God? No. No. The voice of a Fae.