changeling

Dec 13 2012

Jane always knew herself to be different from the rest, a different person.

“you are not a person” regally corrected her mother from somewhere between exasperation and hilarity “and stop calling yourself that ridiculous human name. incredibly ridiculous, you could not have chosen a more ridiculous name, you chose the most ridiculous deliberately, it is very provoking.”

Jane knew herself to be in actuality an authentic human trapped in her otherworldly self. she could not have been molded for a life in the faery land as she was a changeling. her spirit, or some similar human concept she supposed, something theoretically separable from coherent existence, had been switched at the beginning of time.

outside the windows of her chambers in the Alwaysautumn Palace (every faery girl is a prince) the Humanblood River raged and flooded and peacefully burbled and the gory trees growing on its banks tickled the sides of the sky with their bare fingerbones. a family just like hers was picnicking on the river gardens, feasting on the flesh of the foliage and drinking from the river. before long they inevitably began their merry foodfight and it was so tiresome! Jane sighed and complained about it for the infinith time to her best friend brother servant and fellow prince who reminded her as patiently as forever that “just because it is human blood does not mean that any humans actually bled for it”.

Jane was alone alone alone, no one understood her, alone. thats how she knew she was a human for certain because only humans feel loneliness like hers.

and she felt sorry for the other humans, which she knew to be a human quality too. humans are always wandering through the veil at the edges and they have no head for it poor mortals, getting themselves poison drunk on subtle dews collected in flower blossom cups, or even just the humidities of the air. all of the faery folk just laughed and Jane hated to hear them laugh. “but they are so amusing, how can i help laughing,” said her kingly father the king “and after all this is what they want my darling, what they desire, to come through the veil and be one with us here for a while, and who are we to say it is not worth it for them, and what they take back to their beastly little lives?”

“i am leaving here, i have had enough, goodbye,” said Jane, as she bustled about and packed bags and mobilised servants until her preparations had clearly progressed beyond possibility and it was understood that she was serious. her mother was mortified. “but my dear you will miss us all, and the parties, and eternity of magic, please reconsider this rash move, this terrible statement, which will make you a mortal for always, you will disintegrate of frailty and be dropped in some insignificant earthly dirt, you will make yourself to dust my pretty beautiful butterfly one, please do not do this shocking crime i am begging you!” the queen had talked herself into something of a tempest and so Jane finally unpacked her things and sighed and began to dress for the ball.

but just like a human Jane felt that the party must end, she could not stand under the mirrorball while the clock ceaselessly struck its timeless chimes, regardless of how many others could. she became a drifting wisp, and relegated herself to an existence on the periphery, where she patrols the veil, warning away dreamy humans who dont know what we are stumbling into.

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