he heart of the realm of Kynd was like something out of a book of fairy tales to Thaddon.  Strange buildings of seemingly living wood or stone rose to magnificent heights of remarkable grace and imaginative architecture domed high above by the distant canopy of leaves.  The Royal Palace was especially beautiful, formed of some strange, crystalline stone, every corner blunted and smoothed to perfection.  Thaddon could easily imagine that the most spectacular palaces of men could not compare to the lowliest hovels of the Faeries of Kynd.

 The marriage of the Blacksmith and Faer Selena was held in the Crystal Hall and performed by the King himself.  Thaddon's head was aswirl with the unending list of relatives and friends and well-wishers of the Princess of Kynd, introducing themselves and conversing with him as if they had know him all their lives.  And indeed some of them did seem to know him rather intimately, no doubt from Selena's own conversations with them.

 But he was made as welcome as any blood relative or formal, lifelong friend and he was soon put at ease among them.

 That night, Thaddon Jur Payne and Selena Vael Nesmond were shown to their private suite, where they consummated their love with all of their lifelong accumulated passions and the very fires of Heaven.

 

 

Three days later Thaddon was back among the human's of Freeman's Crossing, his memories of Kynd and his marriage to Faer Selena a misty blur.  At times he was not even certain that it had not all been a dream.  But each day when he came home from the smithy, Selena was there, waiting for him, to soothe and comfort and pamper him, to cook for him and bathe him and message away his aches and pains, and hold and love him through the night.

 The villagers saw little of Faer Selena, for she conceded, if not condoned, their hatred of outsiders, and visited not the village of Freeman's Crossing, nor did she patronize their shop or take part in any village council or gathering.  She was as unobtrusive as a shadow among shadows.

 But the villagers did not approve of Thaddon's marriage to her.  They were harsh and unfriendly when they came to his smithy and avoided him when they passed him on the street, and they did not invite him into their gatherings or celebrations and intentionally excluded him from the village councils.

 And while all of these things pained him and made him feel alien in the place he had called home, he did not complain much, for he had Faer Selena to go home to each day, and he knew that she was with child and would give birth soon.

 

 

 Faer Selena gave birth to a beautiful Faer girl in the middle of the night during the late autumn of that same year.  The baby was tiny and perfect in every detail from her miniature fingers and toes to her folded and glistening wings, and Thaddon and Selena named the child for the place they had met, calling her Ivy, which was also the birthname of Thaddon's mother, Ivy Vrianna.  Her middle name they gave in honor of Thaddon's mother and Selena, calling her in full, Ivy Vrelena Payne.

 And when mother and daughter were at last asleep, Thaddon gave thanks, for the Gods had bestowed upon him the greatest blessings life could give: the perfect wife in the woman he loved, and a perfect and healthy daughter, whose beauty was almost as magical as the race from whence she sprang.

 

 

 One fine day in the spring of the following year, during the Festival of Winter's End, Thaddon brought his wife and tiny daughter out among the people of the town.  He had lived with them for so long and had become so accustomed to their presence that he did not understand why anyone would, or should, object.

 He seemed very happy and content to those who met him that evening as he and the Faer Selena strolled along the winding path under the light of many hanging lanterns, Selena bearing her child bundled in her arms like love.

 But for some reason the villagers did object.  Many of them avoided the blacksmith, refusing to socialize with him as long as she was there.  But others openly sneered at her, or whispered evil things while they were still in hearing range.

 Thaddon was saddened that the villagers, family or friends all, could not accept Faer Selena in his life.  They left the festival and returned to their home on the edge of the village and Selena cried while Thaddon vented his anger and frustration through a long litany of curses and vile promises of harm or destruction.

 But Selena comforted him with words he knew to be true.  "You are not like them.  They are contemptible and despising and cannot accept anything that is new to them.  They know only their own ancient ways and are incapable of learning anything new.  You are strong and have a mind open to adventure and change.  You accept others for what they are or what they choose to be.  You do not condemn one for being different or for being of another blood.  You are a better person than this; do not let them force you down to their level.  Forget your anger with them and let us leave this place and never return."

 Thaddon heeded her words and, indeed, the anger fell off of him like water sliding off glass, but he knew he could not leave.  For him, this was Home, and beloved wife and daughter or not, he would always have an empty place in his soul if he moved away from his family and friends.

 Abstractly he wondered if he still had any friends.  And his family had disowned him already.  But they were there.  They did not speak to him or visit.  They did not socialize with him on holidays or exchange gifts at Yule.  But they were there, and they knew that he was there and they watched him carefully so that they would know what went forth in his life.  He could not visit with them or talk to them, but he felt their presence, and that was what he would miss if he were to leave Freeman's Crossing.

 The next day was Lastday; the end of the week in Freeman's Crossing and the one-day each week reserved for rest and relaxation.  Lastdays were spent with family mostly, or, for those who had no family or had distanced themselves from their family, spent socializing at the village tavern.

 Thaddon was no different in that respect.  He always spent Lastday at home, mostly in the front yard, sitting on the grass with Faer Selena and playing with little Ivy.  Such joy did Thaddon derive from these moments that to him all of life seemed fulfilling and complete.

 But this Lastday was to be different from all of the others for Thaddon, Selena and tiny Ivy.

 The midmorning sun beat upon the grass and budding flowers of Thaddon's front lawn, vaporizing the little remaining moisture that had been the morning dew.  Ivy rolled at Thaddon's knee as the large Blacksmith tickled and taunted his daughter under the bewildered eye of Selena.  She marveled at his love for his daughter, a Faery of the Far Mysting Woods.  And she marveled at his love for her, a woman of another blood and a stranger in his land.  She often pondered the question of what made Thaddon so different from the other villagers in Freeman's Crossing, and always came up with the only explanation: a change that had taken place in his childhood; his chance meeting with a young girl Faery of Kynd under the shade trees of the Ivy Stream.

 Her morning contemplation was interrupted, abruptly, by the tramping of many feet and the low, threatening murmur of many voices belonging to the crowd gathered on the edge of Thaddon's lawn.

 The villagers of Freeman's Crossing comprised the crowd: women and their men, all of them familiar, even to Selena, for most of them had been Thaddon's closest friends, and some of them had been his family.

 But the faces were angry, and the whispers were threatening, and they bore picks and axes and large stones in their hands.  Two of the villagers held torches high in the broad daylight.

 Thaddon tentatively gathered Ivy in his arms, kissed her, and passed her to Selena, who remained seated on the lawn unthreateningly.

 The Blacksmith smiled at the crowd and strode toward them, welcoming them to his home.

 But his smile was not returned.

 Voices cried out from the crowd: "There she is: the witch of the Faery Wood."

 "She has bewitched him.  Kill her!"

 "You should not have brought her among us, Thaddon."

 "They have defiled the Festival of Winter's End."

 "You should send her away if you know what is good for you."

 "She's a Faer.  How could you do this to us?"

 "Drive them away!  Banish them from the village!"

 "Stone them!  Kill the witch and her evil offspring!"

 Thaddon drew back from the crowd.  They were numerous and extremely agitated: a dangerous lot with their weapons and fire.  But when he turned to run to protect his family, several larger men grabbed him and wrestled him to the ground.  He fought fiercely, and it took many men of great girth to hold him back from his beloved Selena.  But they pulled him into a sitting position, his arms held up behind his back with such force that they nearly broke.

 Villagers stepped onto his lawn and began casting their stones at Selena.  She tried to get her feet under her to run, but the first rock struck her in the head and knocked her down, her baby still cradled in her arms.

 A fiery madness flared in Thaddon's eyes and he fought harder to break the hold of his assailants.  He looked into the eyes of the people he had thought to be his friends.  He found the tailor, the man's eyes angry and threatening.  He cast his stones with fervor, glee reflected in his stare when Selena was knocked to the ground.  The smith, the tanner and the taverner.  He found his own mother and father among those casting angry stones.  He found death in their eyes and a hatred he had never seen.

 He was forced to watch as stone after stone struck the Faer Selena, struck his tiny, innocent daughter, killing them both, marking the ground with their precious blood.

 Finally the angry mob, satisfied with the deaths they had caused, cast their torches into Thaddon's home, still holding him until the small cottage was fully engulfed in flame.

 And then they released him, for his struggles had ceased.  He could not save his home or his wife or daughter now for they were already dead.

 "Let this be a lesson to you, Blacksmith.  The Faeries of Kynd are evil and have no place in Freeman's Crossing.  Stick with your own kind or you will meet with the same fate."

 Thaddon's eyes widened in disbelief.  "They are evil?" he cried to them, no longer able to contain his anger.  "You are the ones who have committed murder!  You are the ones passing judgment and casting stones!" and he shook his head in grief.  "You are the ones who are evil," he cried.

 "It is not murder to protect one's home or village from outside threats!" his father told him.  It was the first time he had spoken to Thaddon in many months, but the words were not a comfort and Thaddon's anger flared once again.

 "Protect against what?" he shouted into his father's face.  "The harmless woman or the tiny innocent child?  Humans are much larger than the Faeries of Kynd: are they so fearsome a lot that you must slay innocent children?  My God, Father, you murdered..." and he broke down and cried unable to contain the shattering of his life any longer.

 And abruptly as they had appeared, the mob was gone, leaving Thaddon alone with his burned out cottage and dead wife and daughter.  Selena lay silent upon the green lawn in a pool of her own blood.

 

 He went to her with tears and dirt in his eyes.  She had reverted back to her true self as a tiny faery, and lay there upon the ground, beneath the leaves of a trampled daisy, as still as if life had already left her.  She still held little Ivy close in her arms like desperation.  He reached out with his finger and gently turned her over, her long golden-blonde hair arrayed carressingly around her unclothed body, her head stained with blood and bruises.  His heart pleaded for her to be alive, and he cried, for it seemed to him that she was hurt in some way deeper than he could not see for her small size and the tears in his eyes.

 Her eyes fluttered open, and he remembered seeing her for the very first time, so many years ago when she was just a tiny young girl, and his heart melted for he knew that he would love her always, and no other, forever.

 She smiled, weakly, but she still held the power within her to warm him.  She held Ivy like an offering before her.  "I love you," she told him in a bare whisper.  "I will always love you, forever and ever, as I loved you the very first time I saw you, and as I love you now.  Thank you for giving me such a beautiful life and such a beautiful daughter.  Always be happy when you think of me.  No price is too high to pay for your love," and then her eyes closed and like the spirit within her she was gone.

 He could not touch Ivy, tinier even than his own thumb, but he could see that she was already dead, had died even before his beloved Selena.  He lay upon the ground beside them and cried until his heart felt like bursting, and his spirit had fled to some sanctuary deep within him.