he is trying to give her some sort of warning about himself in a roundabout way. Either way, she decides to ignore it for the time being. “So, what are you doing with them then? You said earlier you weren’t using them for yourself, just trying to help me. What does that mean exactly?”
Jarreth sighs and begins to walk again. “It means that normally I feed off of emotions. I don’t allow myself to use emotions directly from humans anymore, though. There are other ways to do it. I took your emotions from you, but I didn’t use them to feed on. I simply took them to calm you down in an effort to help you out. I figured it was a lot to take in at once, and it might be a bit too much for you.”
Calandra remembers the stare off and how he suddenly looked less drained after it. Had he really not fed off of her emotions then? She pushes the thought away as a small house comes into view. It’s more of a cottage really, a small brown wooden picket fence surrounds it. The house is made of a mixture of stone and wood with a brick walkway that leads to the glass front door. A pink tree, which holds small flowers that look like firework explosions, sits directly in front of the house. The grass is filled with blue and purple flowers that look like the flowers from the ring.
“Echo picked out that tree,” he says as they walk along the little brick path.
The comment seems innocent enough, but it suddenly makes Calandra wonder how old Jarreth is exactly. She doesn’t know what the morality rate of faeries is. It’s just who we are , the statement from his explanation resonates through her mind suddenly. Was he including her in that statement as well?
“You said we.” The thought doesn’t make any sense as it escapes her lips.
He doesn’t miss a single beat; Jarreth somehow knows what she means. “Yes, Calandra, we. I told you before you are part Fae, it’s how you were able to come here.”
They walk into the house as Calandra tries to process what all of this means. She is a faerie, at least partially. Maybe the warning he gave wasn’t about him at all, maybe it was about her. However, he can’t possibly know anything about her, right? She sits down on the couch in the living room that the front door walks directly into.
“I’ll be right back,” Jarreth says as he walks into an entry way just off to the right.
Calandra looks around at the small but very open room. There is a large stone fireplace right in front of her and ivy wraps around it. The couch she sits on is blue and appears to be from another century, judging by the intricate wooden pieces along the arms and the back frame. There’s a small wooden table in front of her and another off to the left side of the room that sits just under the only window. There’s a very homey feel about the place. It comforts her, probably more than it should, and smells of cedar and eucalyptus.
Jarreth returns with a silver tray that holds a blue teapot with a gold dragonfly, two matching teacups without handles, and a tall glass bottle with a bright pink liquid in it. He sets the tray on the table in front of her before he takes the seat next to her. He pours a glass of tea into the cup and sets it in front of her.
“Drink, it will make you feel better,” he says. “I have sugar and milk as well if you’d like.”
Calandra still stares at the glass bottle holding the pink liquid. It is thick and there are darker shades of pink swirling through it.
“What is that?” she asks without looking at Jarreth as she says it.
“Like I said, there are other ways.” He pours some of the substance into his tea and drinks it down immediately. “Now drink, please.”
Calandra takes a small sip of the tea he poured for her. It’s bittersweet; something floral mixes with a slightly sour flavor that she can’t quite place. It warms her as she swallows it, and surprisingly she does feel a little better. She
Jarreth sighs and begins to walk again. “It means that normally I feed off of emotions. I don’t allow myself to use emotions directly from humans anymore, though. There are other ways to do it. I took your emotions from you, but I didn’t use them to feed on. I simply took them to calm you down in an effort to help you out. I figured it was a lot to take in at once, and it might be a bit too much for you.”
Calandra remembers the stare off and how he suddenly looked less drained after it. Had he really not fed off of her emotions then? She pushes the thought away as a small house comes into view. It’s more of a cottage really, a small brown wooden picket fence surrounds it. The house is made of a mixture of stone and wood with a brick walkway that leads to the glass front door. A pink tree, which holds small flowers that look like firework explosions, sits directly in front of the house. The grass is filled with blue and purple flowers that look like the flowers from the ring.
“Echo picked out that tree,” he says as they walk along the little brick path.
The comment seems innocent enough, but it suddenly makes Calandra wonder how old Jarreth is exactly. She doesn’t know what the morality rate of faeries is. It’s just who we are , the statement from his explanation resonates through her mind suddenly. Was he including her in that statement as well?
“You said we.” The thought doesn’t make any sense as it escapes her lips.
He doesn’t miss a single beat; Jarreth somehow knows what she means. “Yes, Calandra, we. I told you before you are part Fae, it’s how you were able to come here.”
They walk into the house as Calandra tries to process what all of this means. She is a faerie, at least partially. Maybe the warning he gave wasn’t about him at all, maybe it was about her. However, he can’t possibly know anything about her, right? She sits down on the couch in the living room that the front door walks directly into.
“I’ll be right back,” Jarreth says as he walks into an entry way just off to the right.
Calandra looks around at the small but very open room. There is a large stone fireplace right in front of her and ivy wraps around it. The couch she sits on is blue and appears to be from another century, judging by the intricate wooden pieces along the arms and the back frame. There’s a small wooden table in front of her and another off to the left side of the room that sits just under the only window. There’s a very homey feel about the place. It comforts her, probably more than it should, and smells of cedar and eucalyptus.
Jarreth returns with a silver tray that holds a blue teapot with a gold dragonfly, two matching teacups without handles, and a tall glass bottle with a bright pink liquid in it. He sets the tray on the table in front of her before he takes the seat next to her. He pours a glass of tea into the cup and sets it in front of her.
“Drink, it will make you feel better,” he says. “I have sugar and milk as well if you’d like.”
Calandra still stares at the glass bottle holding the pink liquid. It is thick and there are darker shades of pink swirling through it.
“What is that?” she asks without looking at Jarreth as she says it.
“Like I said, there are other ways.” He pours some of the substance into his tea and drinks it down immediately. “Now drink, please.”
Calandra takes a small sip of the tea he poured for her. It’s bittersweet; something floral mixes with a slightly sour flavor that she can’t quite place. It warms her as she swallows it, and surprisingly she does feel a little better. She
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