“When the fae come out to play the mortals dance and swing and sway..."

Rana was angry. That Greta could tell at a glance. She didn’t know what the sword said, but she was pretty sure it wasn’t anything very nice. And it seemed to be eating at Rana, Greta was a close enough friend after all they’d been through to be able to tell.

She used to have an easy smile, and even though she was kind of shy she was always friendly. Now she hardly spoke to anyone, and kept glaring at the sword whenever she thought nobody was looking. No one else appeared to notice, but Greta did. She just didn’t know what to do about it.

The caravan traveled quickly, lacking the weight of merchandise to slow the carts down. Greta’s father was heading toward Windrunner Village deep into the Askayla mountains across the river Tessarill. It was a nomadic outpost of elves that venerated the wind god. Her father had befriended them as a young man, being one of the first merchants willing to cast away his prejudices against the long lived elves and do direct trade. It was the smartest choice he ever made according to him, and Greta had to agree. No one in the region produced finer silk and cloth or metal work.

Greta couldn’t stop thinking about all those people in Lussax turning against her friend. It made her worry, but Rana had practiced and could now mostly hide her scales and more obvious features. And her new curves made it even harder to imagine her as a boy. She filled out the dresses almost as well as Greta.

That was another concern. She didn’t get a chance to tell her father about Rana. She knew she shouldn’t hide these things from her father, but from the looks of it Rana was more girl than boy now, and honestly she still wondered if she hadn’t hallucinated that time at the stream where she caught Rana bathing and discovered her secret.

Would it be wrong to let it go, since she really was more girl than boy now?

In any case, she had to do something to help Rana. For four days she’d waited, trying to be supportive without being pushy, but her friend was just not working it out. That decision made, she moved next to Rana and poked her arm. Rana looked up from the sheathed sword with a haunted expression, and Greta forged ahead.

“Listen, it’s obvious you’ve been upset since we left Lussax. I know it must be hard, all these changes happening, and the way those... people... in Lussax acted, but you need to cheer up, okay? I miss seeing my friend smile.” She offered a smile herself, trying to encourage her, but Rana seemed not to even notice.

“She’s a dragon. She hates me, and all the rest of us. I can’t even blame her, I mean I doubt it was her idea to be stuck in a sword, I bet someone like Xabriar did it to her. But it’s not MY fault! And she’s turning me into a dragon too. It don’t want to be a dragon or a girl! And she wants me release more of her power, making me more like her! But if I don’t she will die and so will I.” Rall kept staring at the sword, and Greta couldn’t tell if she was trying not to cry, or trying not to hit it. Maybe both. “Why did I have to pick this stupid sword up?”

“Rana, you’ll always be you no matter what. And I’ll always be here for you. You’ll figure out the right thing to do, I’m certain of it. Maybe your sword just needs to figure out how nice you are.”
Rana stared at Greta for a moment.

“I’m sure the hairless stupid monkey can become best of friends with the almighty fire breathing dragon. I’m sure that will solve everything. You’re so stupid sometimes!” Greta tried not to get mad, she really did.

“Maybe you’re right. Maybe I am stupid for trying to be nice to you when you’re like this. Fine, go pout and hope it all goes away, see if I care!” Greta somehow managed to storm away inside the confines of the wagon, and sat down behind a partition from Rana. That hadn’t gone the way she’d hoped at all.

The trip to the ferry crossing took a very long and uncomfortable four days’ travel. As the caravan approached the docks, Greta tried once again to engage Rana’s interest with something she knew the girl had never seen before.

“Rana... You should look outside. We’re almost to the ferry, and there’ll be elves and a surprise.” she suggested with an impish sort of smile.

“Whatever. I’ll go look.”

---

Rall poked his head out the window of the cart and craned his neck to see ahead. He was immediately struck by a large raft in the distance, big enough to carry the whole convoy of ten carts and animals, tied down at the rivers edge. Just the logs used to build it must have been from amazingly huge trees!

Rall stared down at the docks watching the elves attending to ropes and other workings of the raft. He felt mesmerized by their ethereal beauty. They moved with such simple grace even when performing the most menial of tasks it seemed like dance. He couldn’t tell at first, which were men and which women. They all seemed so delicate and fragile, yet they worked with the strength of long experience at such labor.

A young woman out on the pier turned towards the approaching carts. The wind whipped her long mane of silver hair over her elegantly pointed ears. She noticed him staring out in awe, and with a knowing smile and slight giggle she turned towards the dock. She then placed two fingers into her mouth and whistled a high-pitched, piercing call.

A heartbeat later the call was returned by a strange-sounding low shriek that Rall could feel in his bones, that swiftly moved into a higher pitch that stretched out for long seconds, only to slowly return back to its low shriek origins. It was a beautiful, wholly alien song, one that would be etched into his mind for years to come.

Rall didn’t move for long moments, waiting to see if it would continue, but the sounds of the ropes creaking and dock workers talking as they worked quickly grew back to fill the void. He looked back to the young elf woman, who winked then pointed forward. He nearly broke his neck turning back around just in time to see the creature break the surface of the water.

It flowed up smoothly, first a single fin then suddenly the most enormous living thing Rall could imagine. It was shaped sort of like a fish, but with smooth skin instead of scales, in black and white. Then, as if to impress him further, a spray of water fired from the top of it like a cannon into the sky. It would have been hard to imagine something so big so graceful, before he saw it that day.

Rall remembered to breathe when his chest started to hurt. Pulling his head back out of the window he whipped back towards Greta with a large smile helplessly plastered across his face.

“They’re amazing, aren’t they? The elves call them behemoths. They’re so big, and still so graceful! They work with the elves as friends and partners, not like how we train horses and dogs. The elves can talk to them. I’ve always been jealous of that.”

Even as she spoke, Rall heard an elf speaking to Valan. He was pretty sure the elf was a man, judging by his voice, but it was so melodious, like he was used to speaking in song.

“Valan! It is good to see you again! You have been well?”

“Narereas, my good friend. I’m in good health, but I have seem to have slipped into interesting times.”

Peeking back out the window Rall watched and listened closely. The elf man was tall and slender, with large ears pointed back just past the back of his head. His features were sharp and angular, but his expression was friendly and open. “Yes, the birds have spoken of the adventure you have walked yourself into.” He gave Rall a quick smile and turned towards Valan again, “Quite exciting is it not?”

Grabbing Narereas by the shoulder companionably, he laughed, “Exciting yes my old friend, but I’m afraid I’m not as young as I used to be, my heart may not take much more of such excitement!”

“The winds tell me you have much life in you yet, and much left to do.” Patting Valan on the back he laughed infectiously with his melodious voice. “Now come young one,” he said as he waved too Rall, “Larenmireil will introduce you further to our river friends!”

As the caravan pulled to a creaky groaning halt, Rall stumbled trying to keep pace with Greta as she pulled him along with barely contained mirth. Larenmireil greet them both with a low bow. Rall was surprised to be greeted by the very same young woman who whistled to the behemoth. He blushed noticeably, she seemed so beautiful and graceful it made him feel like a clumsy fool.

“Hello again! Did you enjoy Drarilein’s show? He loves the attention. Anyway, I’m Larenmireil. It’s a pleasure to meet you...”

Rall seemed to have a bit of difficulty making words come out of his mouth, so Greta elbowed him lightly in the ribs and then she spoke up instead. “You know me of course, and this is Rana. She’s travelling with us for a while until she can sort out some problems with her family.”

Larenmireil gave Greta an odd look, but shrugged and smiled to both of them. “Well, would you like to meet Drarilein up close? He’s very gentle, and loves to meet new people.” She led the way toward the front of the ferry. Rall had meant to get a closer look at the ferry itself, and the behemoth, but he was oddly entranced by the way Larenmireil walked. Greta kept poking him in the ribs, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself.

“So you are a boy!” she whispered in his ear with a giggle. “Or perhaps a girl that like the attentions of girls!” she continued as she pressed into Rall’s side.

“Shut up, you!” he whispered back, blushing even harder than before. She had a point, but he was not about to concede it to her. “Maybe I like the attentions of girls that don’t think they have all the answers to my problems!”

Larenmireil politely ignored the two as she lifted a bucket from the edge of the raft. “Here take one each, Drarilein loves his treats” she said as she offered them both a mackerel stuffed with odd mix of plants and herbs.

Rall took the proffered fish eagerly, and Greta followed suit with a smirk. Larenmireil showed them where to stand, a sturdy railing at the front of the ferry offered a strong hold.

“Now don’t fall in, he’s very gentle but he’s also very big and I would be very upset if either of you got hurt.” Larenmireil whistled again, high to low then back partway, and the behemoth again broke surface, his great eye sparkling in the bright sunlight, then opened a gigantic maw lined with rounded teeth. Its breath reeked of fish and river water.

Larenmireil knelt next the great beast placing her hand into Drarilein’s mouth and rubbed his tongue affectionately. For the first time Rall witness something he though only a cat could do, purr. “Come he loves for his tongue to be rubbed.” Rall apprehensively leaned over the edge of the raft and hesitantly stretched out his hand, hovering at the edge of the great beast mouth, but could not bring himself to follow Larenmireil’s example.

She simply smiled and helped guide Rall’s hand with her own onto his tongue. “See Drarilein won’t bite... well not unless I ask him to anyway!”

“Well don’t do that, I happen to like this hand very much!” He felt like a fool but he knew he had to speak sooner or later, lest she think him mute. “Well, I mean, my hand. I mean, I like your hand very much too.” She was still guiding his hand with her own, the behemoth’s tongue felt bumpy but soft, and her hand felt even softer.

“Now let’s give him his treats.” She drew his hand back out of Drarilein’s mouth, and gestured to Rall and Greta to toss their fish in, one at a time.

Drarilein’s eye widen as it caught site of the fish Rall was holding. It quickly retreated back away from the raft. Opening wide it splashed water back and forth with its head, shrieking in that alien song. Rall looked to Greta to see if she was throwing hers and she nodded at him, so he tossed his herb-stuffed fish into that giant mouth.

Drarilein caught it expertly, closing his mouth with a splash that misted the entire front of the ferry, with a shriek that Rall was almost certain meant pleasure. He was awed by the way such a completely alien creature could express itself so clearly. Moments later it had settled down, opening its maw again. Greta laughed and tossed her fish in too, and it repeated the display.

“There we go, he welcomes old friends and new with joyful thanks for the treats! He’s always had a soft spot for mackerel, and he seems to really enjoy my stuffing too. I like to try and be sure he gets plenty of greens to keep him strong.”

A commotion behind Rall drew his attention away from the sight of Drarilein playing about. A procession of wagons had pulled up behind Valan’s own. A man Rall assumed was the leader of the caravan took one look at Valan, then noticed Rall, and threw his hands up at Valan.

“I will not ride the ferry with that thing on board!” he voiced in disgusted. “To think you escort a creature such as that about Master Valan. Although you never did have any sense about you anyhow. You ought to throw that thing overboard and be done with it!”

Valan started to argue loudly and angrily, but Rall couldn’t bear to listen.

Rall hung his head, ashamed and angry. Not only was the man making a big scene about him, but it was right there where everyone could see exactly who he was pointing at. Especially Larenmireil. Greta put a hand on his shoulder and he shrugged it off, then stomped across the smooth wood of the raft to the farthest end of the raft from both the trader and Greta as he could manage.

He stared out into the water for what might have been hours unmolested, passing his polished stones through his fingers distractedly. There was the one with the fire spell sealed inside, he could see it if he looked beyond. He could even feel it if he paid enough attention. The smooth shiny stones made him feel a little better somehow.

Before he realized it, The caravan wagons were slowly being direct onto the raft, the elves quickly tying each down securely into metal rings bolted onto the raft’s surface. They moved with such speed and proficiency Rall wondered how many years it took to refine such skills.

Larenmireil whistled out using a unique pattern of low and high calls then tossed a thick rope out into the water. Rall watched intently as the water undulated and suddenly the ferry lurched forward with a sudden jerk. Quickly followed by a jet of water spraying into the air just a head of the raft. He made his way back to the front of the vessel where Larenmireil stood, humming softly in the growing wind of their travel. Greta was nowhere to be seen.

“Hello again, Rana. Greta has returned to master Valan’s cart, if you’re looking for her.”

Rall sighed and shook his head. “I don’t really have anything to say to her. I just thought the view was nicer up here than where I was.” He glanced from her to the water where the behemoth pulled at the rope in some way he couldn’t see.

“Why thank you! You have a way with compliments.” Rall blushed at her words but couldn’t think of anything to say. After long moments, Larenmireil spoke again. “I heard the things that... man... said of you. It must be difficult, when so many humans can be so judgemental, but I want to assure you, no elf of the Windrunner peoples will speak ill of you. I must admit some curiosity myself. May I... touch you?” He thought for a moment he might catch fire, so hard did he blush.

“A... alright.” she brushed her fingertips softly over the fine scales running down his neck, and his breath caught in his throat. “They are so smooth... And warm! I thank you, I did not mean to embarrass you.” She smiled warmly at him, and he couldn’t help but smile back.

“I’m not what he said you now. I’m not a monster. Not yet anyway. I have a curse, and I don’t know how to fix it.” She nodded in understanding.

“Is that why you are in between man and woman?” He nearly choked.

“You... can tell?”

“Rana, elves are very much like humans, but we are also very different in ways. Humans look so very disparate, man and woman, like completely separate races. We elves are not so obvious, and I think perhaps we are better at seeing the subtler clues that suggest such things. You are different, you have some very obvious traits of a woman, but some equally obvious traits of a man, to my eyes.” Rall was taken aback, even before he started changing no one had ever called him a man.

“Ah, um, thank you.” He wasn’t sure how to respond, so he turned back to watching the water disturbed by Drarilein’s passage. After a while he thought about Greta and realized maybe he should try to apologize to her.

“Please excuse me, Larenmireil, I think I need to go apologize to Greta. She’s been a good friend and I said some angry things to her in the last few days.” Larenmireil nodded understandingly and he left her there, humming to the behemoth.

He found Greta fairly quickly, there just wasn’t much to search with the ferry loaded down the way it was. She was sitting on the back of the cart they shared with her mother, legs hanging off kicking in the air.

“Greta... I hoped I would find you here. Listen, I-”

“Did you have fun talking to Larenmireil? She’s very beautiful, I can understand your interest in her.” He wasn’t sure what to say, the way she talked over him like that.

“Umm, yeah, she’s really nice. But I wanted to apologize to you.” he started.

“Oh? And for what exactly? You don’t owe me anything, Rana, I understand that you’re upset about the sword and how it’s changing you. I just want to help, but if you’re not ready for that I understand. Maybe Larenmireil can help you, you’ve known her for all of two hours now but she’s clearly able to offer far better advice than I.” He knew she was hurt and lashing out a bit, but damn it he was hurt too! He came to apologize!

“Maybe she can! Maybe she knows someone who can remove this curse! Maybe you don’t have all the answers and someone else has some! Maybe you’re just jealous!” He saw it happen, the moment he stepped over the line. She went from angry to crushed in a heartbeat, and he almost broke down and apologized right there. Then her face twisted with rage and she
picked up a wooden dish they used to eat while on the road, and threw it at him. It connected squarely with his chest, sending a burst of electric pain through him. She looked horrified at herself, but he picked up the dish and set it calmly on the back of the cart, then walked away without saying another word.

He wandered across the great raft in turmoil, finding his way back to the side furthest from everyone.

Finally alone with his thoughts, Rall looked over the side of the ferry. The water rushed by at a dizzying pace, leaving him lightheaded, so he looked up at the sky instead. He knew he was hurting Greta, and that she only meant to help. And his mood was affecting Larenmireil too. He could feel the attraction between them, but he was just so angry all the time! It all came back to the stupid sword.

Granth. She hadn’t spoken since the day she called him a stupid hairless monkey. Since she told him he was part dragon now. Since she told him he was going to die. He’d been so excited when the master blacksmith first handed him the sword, he loved it fiercely. But apparently it hated him.

He drew the sword from its sheath, no longer hanging under his skirts but from a belt at his waist. It was still quite tarnished in many places, and those lines like cracks still cut deeply into the metal, but it shone in the sunlight regardless.

“Do you have anything to say to me at all? You’re ruining my life. I don’t want to be a dragon, or a girl, I just want to be me. And I want to live. Is that so much to ask?”

The sword felt warm and alive in his hands, but it did not answer. ”Fine, stay silent!” he hissed beneath his breath, “I hope you like the cold of the river, you can stay there forever!” He drew back and threw the sword.

Just as he released it he heard a tired-sounding voice call out, “Noooo!” but it was too late. The tarnished silvery sword sank quickly into the shimmering waves.

---

The morning sun shone through the trees and directly into Arron’s eyes. He slowly came to full awareness, to find himself entangled in Corana, her robe and his clothes and armor piled on a tree root sticking out of the ground a few feet away. She was very warm and soft, and as the previous night’s excitement seeped to the forefront of his mind he smiled. He thought about shouting triumphantly, but decided not to wake her as she looked so serene and beautiful in the rays of light illuminating her skin.

Moments later she drowsily opened her eyes to meet his, and she returned the smile.

“Good morning lover. Last night was spectacular.” She leaned up and kissed him.

“Do it again, encore, encore!” A high pitched voice called out from the bush where Arron heard the laughter and saw the sparkling lights. He jumped up, to Corana’s apparent dismay, and drew he sword from the pile of clothing.

“Show yourself! Or are you a coward?” Giggling filled the air like a chorus of tiny bells, as a little person, perhaps eight inches tall with large dragonfly-like wings flitted out from the bush. He couldn’t really tell whether it was a man or a woman fairy, the obscuring robes and angular face with its oversized eyes could suggest either. Either way, it was beautiful, in a tiny sort of way.

“Arron, put your sword away. It won’t do you any good against a fairy. So, little fair one, have you enjoyed the show?” Arron blushed bright red as he replaced the sword in its sheath, suddenly conscious of his nudity, and began to dress.

“You should both practice more. No time like the present, yes?” Corana laughed merrily, and Arron grunted, trying to get a rein on his traitorous face which seemed determined to broadcast his embarrassment.

“Well, that’s not quite the sound you made last night, but it’s a start...” Before Arron could work up a good head of steam to tell the fairy exactly where it could go and what it might do with itself while there, Corana spoke again.

“As pleasant as a repeat sounds, I think we must move. My lover and I are being chased by some very angry men who aren’t at all interested in anything fun. In fact I think they mean to kill us rather unpleasantly.” The fairy screwed up its face in an amazing parody of an angry face, shaking its finger at them.

“That would be a waste of fun people, it would.” The fairy fluttered and spun in the air around Arron’s head, then over to Corana too. She looked at it frustratedly, as it didn’t seem to be all that concerned really. Then Arron felt himself begin to move. A step here, a pose there, and he realized he was dancing. Corana moved in time as well, her expression growing quickly more scared. He grimaced, trying to fight the dance, wanting to do something, anything, to protect her.

“When the fae come out to play the mortals dance and swing and sway.
If you wish to last the song, then eat and drink and sing along!” the little fairy sang as it spun around them, and Arron and Corana came together, dancing in unison. His fingers traced her skin as hers undid the clothes he’d only just put on, all with perfect grace and surety. Except for their faces, Corana’s lost in helpless fear and his own in growing rage.

Her caressing fingers chipped away at his rage however, even as the fairy again laughed and spun faster, dancing in the air around them. His face stayed close to hers and he could see her giving in, the fear being replaced by desolation, and his rage returned threefold. He would have fought with every bit of his strength in that moment, if not for Woric’s intervention.

The fireball roared into the clearing making a beeline for the dancing couple, but the fairy saw it and suddenly Arron found himself face down in the dirt, his back searing, burned in the heat of the spell’s passing. He tried to get up and face his attacker, step in front of Corana if he could, but his body refused to anything but lie there.

“No, no, no, no, no, noooo!” an ear-piercing screech like a child who lost its candy drilled though Arron’s ear.

“You interrupt the fairy’s fun, you pay the price o mortal one!
You dance with me now in their place, you’ll swing and spin and keep the pace
So eat and drink and play with me, for I shall never set you free!”

Arron saw feet appear in his vision, booted and thumping to a rhythm. He could hear music now, haunting and eerie, and ghostly plates of gold drifted out of the trees covered with steaming foods and iced goblets. A delicate hand shook his shoulder firmly and he found he could move again, when he turned to see Corana. She held a finger over her lips and crawled around a tree. He followed suit as quietly as he could, as flickering lights began to fill the clearing.

Once out of view, Corana drew him to his feet and they ran together, as fast as their feet would carry them. Even Arron knew that eating or drinking anything offered by fairies was bad. Some stories claimed it would turn them into fairies too, others that it meant death, and still others an eternity of dancing. He didn’t care, he just wanted to escape with Corana!

They ran heedlessly into the woods, until the trees fell suddenly away and the pair tumbled down the bank of the river, landing bruised and scraped in knee-deep water at the edge of a thin line of sandy shore.