#FallLikeLeaves

People don’t know how hard it is for faeries to get along in the world now. It’s not like the old days.

We can’t just flit about and frolick anymore – not like we did much ever – but now it’s really frowned upon.

To be clear, we’re talking about faeries here, not fairies. Those other ones… ugh, they’re the worst, aren’t they?

It’s not time to talk about the differences, except that *they* do an awful lot of flitting. FLITTING, seriously.

Well, that’s just the problem. Some people (Dewey in particular) tolerate that sort of thing. Embrace it, even.

Poor Dewey, if only he understood what was wrong with that kind of behavior. It’s like he ignored it on purpose.

If you go about doing things like flitting, you draw attention to us. Fairies can get away with it, the jerks.

Fairies are the tiny ones, everyone just thinks they’re dragonflies. Faeries are bigger, more substantial, more real.

And if I have to be purely honest, we’re just more important to the whole echeleon. If only Dewey understood that.

He just *had* to start talking about how delightful it must’ve been, being so carefree like the fairies.

Dewey started talking to Chrys about how much he missed flying about, as though being a faery wasn’t enough.

Then Chrys (Chrysanthemum when she’s in trouble) went and cried on Daffodil’s shoulder, because she missed it, too.

Daffodil told Valerian, Valerian told Sumac, Sumac told Rhodendron… I’m sure you can see where this is going.

They all met up with Dewey, and he started talking about the “good old days” when we could dance in the open.

We used to weave our magicks around the copse and each other, and stupid humans would’ve been lucky to see us.

There’s a *reason* we don’t do that anymore, and none of these silly gits seemed to remember. *I* remember…

Stupid humans demanding “do a spell for me”, “put a curse on my enemy”, “charm my sword”, “make her fall in love”.

They didn’t even care where the magick came from, as long as they got what their selfish short little lives wanted.

After a few hundred years, the environmental impact was devastating. We had to cut them off, cold turkey.

They didn’t like that one bit, I’m sure you remember. Here they come, swords drawn, cross-bows at the ready.

We’re not stupid, like *some* species, so we just disappeared. What, you didn’t think we’d fight, did you?

It would have been a slaughter. Those stupid humans and their stupid weapons, the ones that *we* charmed for them.

Seriously? “Hey, these brilliant beings have all of nature’s magick at their disposal, let’s try to kill them.”

As a one, we just took a step to the side and didn’t share the same time slice with them anymore, until they forgot.

We couldn’t have stayed there forever. Living a fraction of a second out of sync with the universe is exhausting!

When we came back, we all agreed – even Dewey, if he’ll recall – that there would be no shenanigans anymore.

We were all going to be strictly magick-for-Fae, no drawing attention, no *flitting about*. That’s just right out.

And then stupid Dewey gets all misty-eyed and nostalgic for the past, and then before you know it, it’s a *conclave*.

Who knows how many times they got together? At first it was just a handful, and then there were more and more.

Before too long, it was just out of hand. Pinion said it totally reminded him of the Old Days, and that can’t be good.

Someone was bound to see them eventually, you see. They weren’t even being careful about it.

There were lights and music and dancing and magicking all over the place. Can you imagine what Nature would say?

So, that’s really all there is to it. I did what I had to do, to protect all of Fae-kind – even the stupid fairies.

It does sting a bit, having to kill so many immortal nature-bound beings all in one night, but what else could I do?

It was either let them dance and end up with stupid humans all over us again, or put an end to it once and for all.

And that, your honor, is why I shouldn’t be punished for mass murder.

Well, maybe just for Dewey’s murder. I *was* pretty mad at him. The rest were purely circumstantial.