Categories > Original > Fantasy
Raised in the world of fae, a young boy discovers his human parentage. Later, the changling the boy's mother swapped him for at birth discovers his true fae nature and makes his way home. My firs...
0Unrated
What it's Like on the Other Side
“Am I actually a faerie ?”
The question hit Mithran like an iron hammer. The fae had known for weeks that her adoptive son suspected, but she hadn’t actually expected him to pop the question. She had realized there was a possibility that he might, but had stuffed it to the back of her mind. Now, though, this nightmare was in front of her, in plain sight, staring up at her with his cute little face —
Aww.
She didn’t want to tell him, but what choice did she have? She couldn’t lie – no faerie could, famously – and she was adept at telling half-truths, but that wouldn’t work here. Anwa was going for a yes or no answer, and anything but would be a confirmation of his fears. She had to tell him the truth and avoid burning as many bridges as possible.
“No,” she sighed. “Not exactly.”
“Then what am I?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Then tell.” Yikes. He was mad. This would have to be dealt with carefully.
Mithran sighed. “Both of your parents are humans, from the Other Realm. Me and my company were on a scouting expedition, when we saw a small bedraggled looking baby. I’m definitely not an expert in humans — they’re impossible to understand for even the most brilliant minds,” she scoffed — “but it was clear you were going to die without aid. You looked abused.” Her expression grew more concerned. “I started stalking your parents, and when it was clear they were being abusive, I swapped you with a changeling. Although,” she added. “My actions weren’t entirely benevolent.” Now she was almost looking ashamed, as much as it was possible for a fae. “I had always wanted a child, and your parents weren’t appreciating you enough.”
“ … but… I… I can’t lie. And touching iron hurts, or at least makes me feel just wrong. But then I can’t glamour as well as the other children, or magyck as well as any of them. I just feel too short for an elf and too tall for a goblin.” He started crying.
Oh shit. He was crying. Her son was crying! What was she supposed to do now? Those parenting books she had bought from the bookkeeper weren’t worth the memories she paid for them. Not for a human child, at least. It was assumed that if you were going to steal a human baby, a Daikini, for the purposes of raising them as your own, you should know someone who had done it before or at least had a vague idea of what humans liked, but Mithran didn’t have that luxury. She was fortunate that Anwa was in general happy as a flutterfly and had only rarely cried, because the books didn’t say anything about crying. Her early attempts at figuring out what to do had gone badly, but she got better every time. This time, with Anwa crying more than he had in his entire life, she elected to simply lean down to hug him.
Amazingly, it worked. A bit, at least.
“Wait.”
She blinked. Was she doing something wrong? Did humans not like hugging? But he had enjoyed it all the other times she had tried it, so-
“If you left a changeling there,” he queried, tears still streaming down his face, “Wouldn’t they be subjected to the same fate as me?”
Mithran managed to bark a laugh. “Hah! No, Anwa. Changelings are remarkably resilient. What’s more, they have the wyrdest luck ever.” She smiled. “Anyway, I’ve been checking on him every little while, and he’s always fine.”
“Huh…
“But you didn’t answer my question.” He looked up at her with those big, wet, eyes. And was so cute.
“Huh?”
“I asked why I don’t feel like a human or a fae,” he explained, “But then we changed the subject.”
“Oh! Right. Sorry.” Now, how to explain this? It was complicated. Would he even accept her explanation? He had to, right? He knew she couldn’t lie. But faeries can tell untruths unwittingly. If he didn’t think she fully understood—
No. She could do this.
She took a deep breath, and began.
“The thing you need to understand about faeries,” she started, “Is that the magic of our realm suffuses anything that enters with energy. This takes years to happen,” she pressed on, “but eventually they become more and more like a fae. After years and years,” she paused. “They are, for all intents and purposes, a faerie. Right now, that’s what's happening to you.” She pulled him into a deeper hug. “You are my son, you are a fae, whoever you may have been born to, and I will always love you.”
________________
Years later in the Other Realm, on a chilly day in autumn, a changeling was playing with the fishes at his favourite spot in the woods to go to whenever a prank or the like went bad. It just so happened to be a fey crossing.
He didn’t know it was a fey crossing. He didn’t even know he was a changeling. He just felt inexplicably drawn here, on nights that he couldn’t sleep (most of them), when he needed to escape to let people cool down (which was often), or just when he somehow got bored and needed a quiet place to relax.
The changeling’s name was Judas. His parents were very religious, and it wasn’t a secret that they kept him and married only because it would be a sin not to. Unfortunately for Adam, they were of the belief that they could raise a child as they saw fit. This meant a lot of beatings as punishment for being disruptive, which was a constant. He was so disruptive, in fact, that people had joked about him being a changeling swapped for the real Judas.
He had to admit even that outrageous theory didn’t feel too implausible.
Whenever he visited this place, he felt closer to home than he did at home. The glade in the woods felt right to him, like it was calling him, especially in the direction of two trees making almost a perfect doorway. One of those really huge and grand ones in the stories, come to life. He loved to sit on an old oak log fallen across the river and fantasise about what was on the other side. It looked too perfect to be just some random trees leaning on each other, but that was silly. There weren’t any fey crossings this close to the village.
So it couldn’t hurt to go have a look, right?
Judas blinked, and the scene behind the arch changed. Instead of the forest that was behind it and the overcast sky, there were trees with leaves of gold, and a bright sun, and he could taste the warmth from the air on the other side. Almost in a trance, Judas stepped through, through a sort of spiderweb of resistance, a slight tug pulling him back to the human realm, an even stronger one urging him onwards to his home.
He finished the step, and was finally home in the world of faerie. He felt safe here, nestled away in these woods here, and he was calm like he never was before. And then information came flooding into his mind. Who brought him to the humans. Where he was born.
His birth name, and his true name.
Nathal. His birth name. Something not repeatable in the common tongue. His true name.
Nathal walked for a bit, marveling with childlike curiosity at the things in the realm of faerie. All of it was more of the same, except it wasn’t the same at all. There were creatures which he’d never seen in the human realm. The flutterflies, a centaur herd, a dragon flying overhead, an inebriated goblin.
An elf woman, holding the hand of a boy who looked just like him. This was her. This was the person who had left him with the humans. She was right here.
He realized he should probably be mad, but he wasn’t. It had been fun! He got to torture all those poor unsuspecting humans with things like glitter bombs! And random dead bugs! And - oh, damn, that woman was right in front of him now.
The woman smiled. “Hello, Nathal,” she said. “I’m sure you recognize me.”
“You’re the one who left me with the humans.”
She laughed. “Sorry about that. But I needed to get Anwa here” - She lifted up the child - “out of that place, and I couldn’t just take him. There are rules in place. Humans get suspicious if their babies disappear. But I’ve been keeping an eye on you, and I'm glad you’re here now.” She paused. “By the way, if you want to see the eye, it’s the one on the chain around your neck.”
Nathal pulled out his necklace. She had given it to him when she dropped him off. Everyone just assumed he’d found it, but ever since then he’d never let it out of his sight.
“You know, if you want a place to stay and hang out with your twin…”
“Yeah!” Nathal jumped. That kid was loud. “Please stay with us! Please? It gets lonely sometimes”
“Hah! you know what… sure, why not? It’s not like I can or want to go back, and I don’t have a place to stay.”
“Yeahhh!”
“Welcome to the family. But first, some ground rules…”
The little kid — Anwa, he said his name was — started chattering away over his mom, and demanding that Nathal tell him about the human realm and how were his birth parents, were they really as bad as Mithran had said?, and telling him all of his adventures, so it was a relief when they got to the house and he was spared from Anwa’s onslaught of questions.
“Alright, Anwa, bed,” the woman ordered. Grudgingly, the child went. “As for you,” she said, pivoting to face Nathal. “I’m Mithran. I’d like to hear your story.”
“Am I actually a faerie ?”
The question hit Mithran like an iron hammer. The fae had known for weeks that her adoptive son suspected, but she hadn’t actually expected him to pop the question. She had realized there was a possibility that he might, but had stuffed it to the back of her mind. Now, though, this nightmare was in front of her, in plain sight, staring up at her with his cute little face —
Aww.
She didn’t want to tell him, but what choice did she have? She couldn’t lie – no faerie could, famously – and she was adept at telling half-truths, but that wouldn’t work here. Anwa was going for a yes or no answer, and anything but would be a confirmation of his fears. She had to tell him the truth and avoid burning as many bridges as possible.
“No,” she sighed. “Not exactly.”
“Then what am I?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Then tell.” Yikes. He was mad. This would have to be dealt with carefully.
Mithran sighed. “Both of your parents are humans, from the Other Realm. Me and my company were on a scouting expedition, when we saw a small bedraggled looking baby. I’m definitely not an expert in humans — they’re impossible to understand for even the most brilliant minds,” she scoffed — “but it was clear you were going to die without aid. You looked abused.” Her expression grew more concerned. “I started stalking your parents, and when it was clear they were being abusive, I swapped you with a changeling. Although,” she added. “My actions weren’t entirely benevolent.” Now she was almost looking ashamed, as much as it was possible for a fae. “I had always wanted a child, and your parents weren’t appreciating you enough.”
“ … but… I… I can’t lie. And touching iron hurts, or at least makes me feel just wrong. But then I can’t glamour as well as the other children, or magyck as well as any of them. I just feel too short for an elf and too tall for a goblin.” He started crying.
Oh shit. He was crying. Her son was crying! What was she supposed to do now? Those parenting books she had bought from the bookkeeper weren’t worth the memories she paid for them. Not for a human child, at least. It was assumed that if you were going to steal a human baby, a Daikini, for the purposes of raising them as your own, you should know someone who had done it before or at least had a vague idea of what humans liked, but Mithran didn’t have that luxury. She was fortunate that Anwa was in general happy as a flutterfly and had only rarely cried, because the books didn’t say anything about crying. Her early attempts at figuring out what to do had gone badly, but she got better every time. This time, with Anwa crying more than he had in his entire life, she elected to simply lean down to hug him.
Amazingly, it worked. A bit, at least.
“Wait.”
She blinked. Was she doing something wrong? Did humans not like hugging? But he had enjoyed it all the other times she had tried it, so-
“If you left a changeling there,” he queried, tears still streaming down his face, “Wouldn’t they be subjected to the same fate as me?”
Mithran managed to bark a laugh. “Hah! No, Anwa. Changelings are remarkably resilient. What’s more, they have the wyrdest luck ever.” She smiled. “Anyway, I’ve been checking on him every little while, and he’s always fine.”
“Huh…
“But you didn’t answer my question.” He looked up at her with those big, wet, eyes. And was so cute.
“Huh?”
“I asked why I don’t feel like a human or a fae,” he explained, “But then we changed the subject.”
“Oh! Right. Sorry.” Now, how to explain this? It was complicated. Would he even accept her explanation? He had to, right? He knew she couldn’t lie. But faeries can tell untruths unwittingly. If he didn’t think she fully understood—
No. She could do this.
She took a deep breath, and began.
“The thing you need to understand about faeries,” she started, “Is that the magic of our realm suffuses anything that enters with energy. This takes years to happen,” she pressed on, “but eventually they become more and more like a fae. After years and years,” she paused. “They are, for all intents and purposes, a faerie. Right now, that’s what's happening to you.” She pulled him into a deeper hug. “You are my son, you are a fae, whoever you may have been born to, and I will always love you.”
________________
Years later in the Other Realm, on a chilly day in autumn, a changeling was playing with the fishes at his favourite spot in the woods to go to whenever a prank or the like went bad. It just so happened to be a fey crossing.
He didn’t know it was a fey crossing. He didn’t even know he was a changeling. He just felt inexplicably drawn here, on nights that he couldn’t sleep (most of them), when he needed to escape to let people cool down (which was often), or just when he somehow got bored and needed a quiet place to relax.
The changeling’s name was Judas. His parents were very religious, and it wasn’t a secret that they kept him and married only because it would be a sin not to. Unfortunately for Adam, they were of the belief that they could raise a child as they saw fit. This meant a lot of beatings as punishment for being disruptive, which was a constant. He was so disruptive, in fact, that people had joked about him being a changeling swapped for the real Judas.
He had to admit even that outrageous theory didn’t feel too implausible.
Whenever he visited this place, he felt closer to home than he did at home. The glade in the woods felt right to him, like it was calling him, especially in the direction of two trees making almost a perfect doorway. One of those really huge and grand ones in the stories, come to life. He loved to sit on an old oak log fallen across the river and fantasise about what was on the other side. It looked too perfect to be just some random trees leaning on each other, but that was silly. There weren’t any fey crossings this close to the village.
So it couldn’t hurt to go have a look, right?
Judas blinked, and the scene behind the arch changed. Instead of the forest that was behind it and the overcast sky, there were trees with leaves of gold, and a bright sun, and he could taste the warmth from the air on the other side. Almost in a trance, Judas stepped through, through a sort of spiderweb of resistance, a slight tug pulling him back to the human realm, an even stronger one urging him onwards to his home.
He finished the step, and was finally home in the world of faerie. He felt safe here, nestled away in these woods here, and he was calm like he never was before. And then information came flooding into his mind. Who brought him to the humans. Where he was born.
His birth name, and his true name.
Nathal. His birth name. Something not repeatable in the common tongue. His true name.
Nathal walked for a bit, marveling with childlike curiosity at the things in the realm of faerie. All of it was more of the same, except it wasn’t the same at all. There were creatures which he’d never seen in the human realm. The flutterflies, a centaur herd, a dragon flying overhead, an inebriated goblin.
An elf woman, holding the hand of a boy who looked just like him. This was her. This was the person who had left him with the humans. She was right here.
He realized he should probably be mad, but he wasn’t. It had been fun! He got to torture all those poor unsuspecting humans with things like glitter bombs! And random dead bugs! And - oh, damn, that woman was right in front of him now.
The woman smiled. “Hello, Nathal,” she said. “I’m sure you recognize me.”
“You’re the one who left me with the humans.”
She laughed. “Sorry about that. But I needed to get Anwa here” - She lifted up the child - “out of that place, and I couldn’t just take him. There are rules in place. Humans get suspicious if their babies disappear. But I’ve been keeping an eye on you, and I'm glad you’re here now.” She paused. “By the way, if you want to see the eye, it’s the one on the chain around your neck.”
Nathal pulled out his necklace. She had given it to him when she dropped him off. Everyone just assumed he’d found it, but ever since then he’d never let it out of his sight.
“You know, if you want a place to stay and hang out with your twin…”
“Yeah!” Nathal jumped. That kid was loud. “Please stay with us! Please? It gets lonely sometimes”
“Hah! you know what… sure, why not? It’s not like I can or want to go back, and I don’t have a place to stay.”
“Yeahhh!”
“Welcome to the family. But first, some ground rules…”
The little kid — Anwa, he said his name was — started chattering away over his mom, and demanding that Nathal tell him about the human realm and how were his birth parents, were they really as bad as Mithran had said?, and telling him all of his adventures, so it was a relief when they got to the house and he was spared from Anwa’s onslaught of questions.
“Alright, Anwa, bed,” the woman ordered. Grudgingly, the child went. “As for you,” she said, pivoting to face Nathal. “I’m Mithran. I’d like to hear your story.”
Sign up to rate and review this story