with golden string our universe was clothed in light

When she slept she dreamt of the day she lived.

She remembered waking, her eyes opening to the big bright world. She was small, only the size of her hands in the present. But the world was big, and she could feel all of it. She didn't assess the world around her so much as she went to the world around her: her wings, the colour of the dawn she was birthed into, softer than a cloud, lifted her from that who created her, and she flew into the bright, quiet morning sky.

She hadn't been explored this new cosmos for more than a handful of minutes before her progenitor gently grasped her essence, the pale light that was her, and pulled her close to the soil of the earth.

"Do you know who I am?" She was a lovely female-form, with bright eyes and a warm smile that radiated comfort and joy and magic.

The new fae had to think for a moment. "You created me."

The lady kept smiling, and kneeled on the grass beneath her feet, pulling her fae creation further away from the steadily-brightening sky. "I am your mother, darling; and you are my daughter. You and I are family."

The new fae considered the sentence. It seemed . . . right. There was nothing untruthful in the lady's words. The lady was the new fae's mother, she was a fae as well - the light shining in her eyes gave that away immediately.

The lady-grown-fae kept the new fae close to the earth and explained, yes, she was another fae, she had created the new fae. She smiled joyfully as she gave her child the name 'Jane', just as the older fae's name was Abigail - but, of course, those names were the names that the humans that inhabited the earth could understand and pronounce. Jane would call Abigail 'Mother', and Abigail would raise and teach Jane all she would need to exist in this big wide world. But Jane would have to do as Abigail - Mother - told her to do. Jane did not see a reason to argue.

Jane folded her wings away, until they melted into the physical form she pulled together, leaving only the imprinted outline of the gossamer instruments of flight the world gave her. Jane quietly put down the magic inside of her, the intelligence that came from immediate existence, the natural understanding of the universe around her

Jane pulled herself into a physical form from a outline of light into something bigger, something softer and breakable. Something that needed help simply to exist.

It would not occur to Jane until she was much, much older that this was the moment she surrendered herself to the desires of another. She would not remember these moments until she dreamt, when it was too late to do anything about it. Jane did not sleep often - her creation was the most common dream she had.

In hindsight, this was where all her trouble started: the very beginning of her life, at the grand old age of two hours old.

Some of this may need explaining: In this story, full-blood faeries are created by their parents using magic, and they are born with the whole package - wings, magic, and the immediate intelligence of an adult. They can shape themselves and grow at their own rate or the rate their parent wishes for them - baby to child to adolescent, etc - and they keep their intelligence as they go.

Jane's problem is that she lives in a country that doesn't allow the use of magic, and her memories of her own magic are fuzzy at best from disuse.

A lot of themes and ides about Jane and her life come from the brain of ruffoverthinksthings on tumblr.