The Eve soon forgotten - Part 2

“Be gone from this place fey woman, I’ve had enough of your kind today.”

 

Turning, Blur saw the most beautiful Echo she had ever seen. It was quite clearly Lady Cwenhild Bunlock so Blur tried a curtsy. However, the change had taken too much energy and her vision when funny; she stumbled, having to steady herself on the bedside table, cringing slightly as the dust worked its way into her finger’s crevices.

 

Lady Bunlock obviously caught on to Blur’s discomfort because she said, “After a lifetime of cleaning I thought I might cut myself some slack with the house work after death. In addition, it adds to the terror, it helps me scare away the innocent. That’s all I can really do to protect them.” She spoke as though she was stuck in two centuries, which Blur supposed she was.

 

Blur wasn’t really sure how to react to the Lady’s sudden chattiness; maybe it was just loneliness. “I don’t know. A creepy old house on the outside, dismal and bleak, falling apart and over grown. Inside, sparkly and new, gleaming like someone was still there, making sure it didn’t go to ruin.” She gave a small smile, which Cwenhild returned.

 

Cwenhild waved her translucent hand and the dust on the bed dispersed rapidly, leaving a spotless patch plenty big enough for Blur’s scrawny bum, “I think you should rest first, I think I can tolerate your presence for a little while longer,” the sentence was said in jest so Blur sat and regained some strength. “Am I right in thinking your transformation is at fault for your discomfort?”

 

“Yes, but it always fades after a short time,” Blur answered, it was like they were old friends.

 

“And in the long term?”

 

“Well, I’m not all that strong physically, you can’t be when you change form as much as me,” said Blur. She wasn’t entirely sure what Cwenhild was asking so she improvised, “I bruise and my bones can break a lot easier than most beings and I have to sleep a lot more, but apart from that I’m pretty much like any other person in the world.” Answering the question was not made any easier by Cwenhild standing in her dressing table; the wood surface seemed to be chopping her in half. “What about you? It can’t be great living forever as an Echo.” Bad Blur! Why do you have to ask stupid questions? This is going to make her sad, possibly angry.

 

Luckily for Blur, it was the former.

 

“It isn’t much of a life.” Her voice was so mellow and heartbreaking, Blur felt her eyes start to prickle.

 

Time passed, only their breath broke the silence. Finally, the morning tinges of red peeped over the horizon and Cwenhild spoke, “You should get going if you wish to remain unknown.”

 

Blur nodded, sleep called to her but she knew there was much more to come before her head could rest. She was going to be so grumpy by the end of this. Well, the quicker she gets this done, the faster she’ll get to bed.

 

As she left through the hole in the fence, carrying Daniel in her skinny arms, she felt the urge to turn around, there standing before her was Cwenhild, her dust figure glinting slightly in the growing light, “I never meant to harm those children. You know, the fey children. I didn’t know back then that most changelings were as innocent as the switched humans. I wasn’t aware of the politics,” she spat the word with disgust and contempt, “of the situation. Perhaps my punishment isn’t so unjust, I’ll have forever to reflect on what I’ve done.”

 

“Ignorance is not a crime,” Blur said, shaking her head, Cwenhild had obviously spent time mulling over on that thought. “Anyway, I think you’ve punished yourself enough.”

 

“Maybe you’d think differently if it was you I was burning with iron, hours on end. Pain makes anger clearer to people.”

 

Not entirely sure, as always, what Cwenhild meant, Blur turned and walked into the town.

 

Time to be forgotten.