The Language of Magic

Rifiuto: Non Miriena

Summary: Do you believe in magic? McGiva. Written 2008.

Are you a witch, or are you a fairy,

Or are you the wife of Michael Clearly?

- Irish Nursery Rhyme

They rushed through the countryside, their laughter dancing on the wind, mixing with the scent of the sea. They had promised their mother that they would be back before dinner, back before the fog rolled in and they got lost, back before the wee folk came out to play.

They promised.

The two children stumbled through the countryside towards the sea, holding tight to each others' hands, unaware that they had unknowingly broken their promise to their mother. Their laughter filled the countryside, as they wandered deeper and deeper into the rocks near the sea, staying away from the shorelines of the rivers and creeks, for the kelpies waited for innocent passersby.

"Brother, look!"

He stopped, turning back to what she was pointing at- someone was watching them from the depths of the sea; it had taken them most of the day, but they'd finally reached the shore, and were intent on spending some time playing on the beach. All they could see was the top of her head and her eyes. Slowly, the two children moved closer, curious.

"Are ye a mermaid?"

The head in the water moved slowly back and forth from side to side. The green eyes studied the two children- they appeared to be roughly the same age, maybe a few months apart, if even that. As they moved closer, it was evident that they also possessed the same green eyes that watched them from the water, and the same reddish hair...

"No, bu' people often mistake me for one."

The two children shared a glance, before,

"Then wha' are ye?"

A smile tugged at her lips, one the children couldn't see. Instead of answering, she ducked back into the water, and the children shared a glance, before continuing on down the beach. As they set to making sandcastles, she poked her head through the water again, closer this time.

"I am what ye are."

The two kids turned back to her, their castle abandoned. "What do ye mean?" The boy stepped closer, into the waves, and she lifted her head out of the water, grinning.

"I also come from the sea."

"The sea?" The girl asked, joining her brother.

She nodded. "Aye. I come from the land of myth and magic, like ye do. Ye were born with magic in yer blood, both of ye."

"What type of magic?" The boy asked, as his sister took his hand. Silence settled between them, and she rose a little higher out of the water. Her long, dark red hair clung to her skin; a chain hung around her neck, two pearls dangling from it. It was rare for her, being within the water without her skin on, but she knew this was the easiest way to not scare them. She had waited years to see them; ever since the wee folk had stolen them from her-

But then again, she had done them wrong, taking what didn't belong to her, but she hadn't been able to help herself. And so, in some way, she deserved her punishment. But now...

"An ancient magic. A magic believed t' be myth now."

The girl clapped her hands in excitement. "Does Mams know it too? Mams knows all sorts o' magic."

Her eyes misted over. They 'ave no mem'ry of ye, o' their lives b'fore this time. Which means they 'ave no mem'ry of being stolen from ye. At leas' they're free o' tha' mem'ry. "No. This magic is... special."

"Do we need wands?" The boy asked, for he had read that that was how the great wizard Merlin had harnessed his magic. She shook her head, her green eyes studying them silently. They 'ave grown so... She opened her mouth to speak, when the sky darkened and a light rain began to fall. She watched in silence as the girl turned back to her brother.

"Brother! The fog!"

Without another word to her, the children grasped hands and rushed from the water onto the beach, gathering their light jackets. They skidded to a stop by the cliff face, watching as the fog slowly made its way towards them; there was no way they could move through it. To pass through fog was to walk right into the fae's domain and forever remain. Slowly, the two backed up, until they stood within the sea.

"Mams will kill us." He turned back to her. "We can't go home. If we go through the fog-"

"I am well aware o' wha' the wee folk will do t' ye." She replied, seeing the fear in the boy's eyes. If only she could pull them into her embrace- She turned, the song of the sea calling to her, beckoning her to return to its depths. She'd stayed out of her skin and away from the depths of the sea for too long... Ye canna leave them, they're ye're bairns. Ye canna leave them- "I can help ye."

The boy turned back to her, pulling his sister closer. "Help us how?" She bit her lip; in the distance, she could hear the soft flutter of wings, could see the twinkle of lights, and knew the wee folk were out to play; for the fog was only a portion of their element, but their element none the less. It helped to hide them from a world that no longer believed in magic... a world that mocked and berated them, twisting them in literature and film for its own enjoyment. If she could keep her children from becoming servants to the wee folk...

A moment passed, before she removed the chain- in reality, two chains- from her neck. Once separated, she held them out to the children, who each took one. The pearl sparked in the darkness, and after a moment, the boy asked,

"Pearls?"

She didn't correct him, for he wouldn't believe her if she actually admitted that the pearls were really bits of stardust and tiny pieces of the galaxy melded together by Danu herself. Silent, she nodded. "Keep them on ye at all times; they're rare."

"I don't understand. How are you going to help us?"

She held her arms out, beckoning them to her. The fluttering was getting louder; they could sense the children, she knew they could- "We don' 'ave much time. Hurry." The siblings shared a glance, before both reached for her. She pushed them both down into the waves, as the fog rolled out towards her; the fluttering was a cornucopia of sound now, and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from screaming, for the flutter of fairy wings was similar to nails on a chalk board for a human... I'ma so sorry, me loves. Please forgive me, bu' I 'ad no choice.

With one last glance at the fog and flickering lights of the wee folk, she ducked under the water, returning to her skin.

In the tiny cottage, a plate shattered. The young mother rushed to the window, choking on a sob as she watched the fog roll in, hearing the keen of the bean sí and feeling the pain of her heart breaking.