As You Were

From Friðrós:

You know, even though it felt super short, I enjoyed this year’s Great Faire. Maybe because it felt so short, I didn’t even get super upset over being cursed by an old lady. I took Myrkandraum’s lesson to heart and just figured my eyes would be crazy for the whole Faire.

As expected, my eyes returned to normal pretty much the moment we landed back in Awenia. I’m not sure whether the old lady’s curse was really meant just for the Fairelands, or whether Queen Gwyneth just has some powerful wards protecting our Realm; either answer is equally possible, and I guess I don’t care which one it is, as long as I don’t start seeing little old ladies trying to curse me here.

So. Her Majesty is taking a holiday to recover from the Great Faire. No surprise there. And then I get a message from the Queen, which is also no surprise. The content of this note, however, was a bit of a gut-punch.

Lady Mystie will be staying in Awenia for an indeterminate amount of time. I have placed a Tree House for her across from your place at the bottom of the Book Forest. I am sure you will enjoy her as a neighbour.

“Enjoy her as a neighbour?” Lady Mystie’s Uncle (the café) is run by Lady Mystie’s uncle (the fae) and not Lady Mystie (the hellion), because Lady Mystie (see above) wanted to have midnight dance parties in the town square with a bottomless shroomspore cupcake bar. I mean, I’m pretty sure that’s the reason, even though most folk say it’s only because Lady Mystie doesn’t do any work at all (also true).

I’m having some things delivered for you to start decorating the treehouse for Lady Mystie. Some things are from the Faire, of course, and some are from this glorious Enchantment Aetherpunk festival I’ve discovered. Please take care with the clockwork animals; I understand they are fragile.

And so that’s why I, who could be re-watching the Eurovision finale on YouTube, am sitting her on the steps of what is apparently Lady Mystie’s new Nexus of Mischief, with a clockwork steampunk owl, waiting for deliveries.

The owl showed up midmorning sometime, and the delivery pixie didn’t know anything about other deliveries to this address.

“But,” she said cheerily, “you can confirm you’ll be here for delivery by accepting the proximessage.”

“The proximessage.”

“Yeah. It lets the delivery person know that you’re exactly where you need to be in order t receive the package. Proximessage has decreased our no-show delivery rate by 6.7 percent over the last month!”

I stared at the delivery pixie. “How close do I need to be to receive the message?”

You need to be at the exact geo-coordinates,” she replied cheerily. “So right about where you are right now. And don’t worry: even if you don’t have a good mobile signal, Proximessage works on Ley-line based geocoordination, so it can find you anywhere.” She winks. “But of course, it’s only looking for you,” and here she gestured vaguely with her tiny pixie arms, “right here!”

“So I couldn’t, say, go have a dip in the water whilst waiting.”

She squinted. “Nope! Proximessage is very accurate. Our delivery folk never worry they’re going to have to wait for you to get out of the water, take a shower, dry off; you know.”

I nodded. It wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t her fault. There was no reason for me to take out my anger on her. “So I guess the only thing for me to do, really, is just sit right here with this steampunk owl, who I understand is fragile, until the rest shows up.”

“That’s right! Couldn’t be simpler.”

“And you don’ have any idea when that might be.”

“Sorry; doesn’t look like the rest of your order is on my route.”

I sighed. “Right.”

“You gotta sign for the owl.”

“Of course.”

And then she took her little iPad back from me, then flitted away to her next delivery.

And I sat on Lady Mystie’s new front steps. With a steampunk owl. For four solid hours.

The first thing the fellow placed was a little steampunk mouse in a dress. Super cute. “This is fragile,” he said, “so let me just put it up by the door for you here.”

“I’ve been waiting most of the day for these.”

“And I’ve been delivering packages to eighteen different Fairylands during that time. Sometimes being the only delivery service is tiring, but I’m never without work.”

Was he cheerful? Was this peasant being cheerful with me? I bit my lip (mentally). A few years ago, I’d never have described any being as a peasant. ‘That’s just not the Huldufólk way,’ I heard my grandfather’s voice say.

“Right, well—let me find the key and let’s get the rest of these inside,” I said.

“Oh, so sorry, ma’am,” he replied. “My responsibility ends when these things are off the hand truck and you confirm receipt.” He stuck a tablet into my face. “Sign here.”

There was a clanking noise from behind me. I looked back to discover the owl had somehow fallen on its side. “Did you push the owl over?” I asked, feeling the fury rise. “He’s listed as fragile, too. Even the clueless pixie who delivered him was more careful.”

“I did not push him over,” replied the delivery fellow evenly. “See how far away he is from the mouse.” He snapped a photo with his tablet. “There, that’s confirmed delivery. Thanks for your patronage. Have a nice day!”

I stared at his retreating form in disbelief. “How am I meant to get all this stuff up the stairs?” I shouted. He didn’t reply. There were more soft clink-clanks from behind me.

When I glanced over my shoulder, I saw that the owl was somehow upright again.

And the mouse-in-a-dress had moved, somehow. Great. Surely these were only clockwork toys and not imbued with some deeper magic? I reached out with my kraft and found none. Could be the metal interfering; some alloys aren’t so great for nature senses. OK, pretty much anything that includes carbon and iron, so lots of cheap metals might dull my kraft. So basically, anything that doesn’t occur naturally or that could not be created by some process existing solely on this planet really messes with my mojo. Almost any fae mojo. Unless of course the faerie in question is from somewhere in outer space and has witnessed, say, a supernova. Sorry; I know this isn’t primary school fae education class. I didn’t do super well in fae science education, anyway. It’s why I’m better at plants.

So I contacted Clutie and her cast of demifae to help me move everything into the house, but they were busy with the meadow, she said, until sundown. I guess we’ll be decorating in the dark, which seems only fair for what I’ve now begun to think of as Lady Mystie’s Den of Mischief.

Oh, also, could you make a little sign for her front door? She wants it to say “Lady Mystie’s Recluce.”

I probably can’t get away with Lady Mystie’s Den of Mischief, then.

Notes & Credits:

Enchantment’s Aetherium Nexus is open! Here’s the stuff shown in this post you can get there:

Friðrós’ outfit: Rakshasa, Edlyn (top, trousers, belts, pouch)
Friðrós’ tattoo: Juna, Ura tattoo (it’s tintable!)
Steampunk Owl and Mouse: Esoterica, Steampunk Animated Owl, Steampunk Lady Mouse