Bright Glade, Shadowed Forest

     She hadn’t been offering quests at her glade for very long; she’d started relatively recently, after hearing that Jhudora had started out giving quests back in Faerieland. But Illusen was already feeling so… tired.

     That afternoon, a little Kougra girl had come to the glade with her big sister. She’d been adorable—maybe four or five years old—and she’d brought Illusen a gift: a big bouquet of freshly-picked blue flowers.

     And Illusen had smiled politely, and thanked her, because she was so young, and she couldn’t have known that Illusen had personally planted those flowers and had been planning to harvest them later, on the full moon—but they’d been torn from the earth too soon and were now useless for the potion she’d been planning. It was Illusen’s fault, really, for planting them too close to the path to her cabin, where a child might see them and be tempted.

     If she’d built a garden bed, with a fence around it, perhaps her sister would have stopped her. But Illusen hadn’t wanted little wooden boxes with neat rows of plants. She’d had plenty of that growing up in her mother’s house in Faerieland. Her mother’s garden was beautiful, without doubt, but it was also very much a garden.

     The girl had seen a patch of wildflowers, had picked them because they were pretty and blue, and she’d given them to Illusen because she wanted to be kind, and that was a good thing, surely.

     But for all that she’d invited questers to come to her glade, Illusen was tired of the endless parade of Neopets trampling through her glade, wearing ruts in the earth, carelessly crushing tender shoots and fungi, and picking whatever caught their eye. She was tired of listening to endless gossip-masquerading-as-useful-intelligence in hopes that some small fragment might be useful.

     I’m glad Neopets find my glade beautiful, thought Illusen. I just wish they’d take more care to keep it that way.

     She was so tired.

     But she couldn’t stop, and it wasn’t as if there was anyone she could really talk to about it.

     Her mother and grandmother were out of the question. They both thought she was being ridiculous for running off like this. It wasn’t as if she could really explain anything to them—not about Jhudora, and not about… everything else.

     Her friends… well. She’d sent letters to a few, after getting settled into her new home. A couple had even written back. One had visited, admired her glade, told her how lovely and rustic it all was, and then flew right on back to Faerieland.

     But she’d grown up in Faerieland. Her friends were in Faerieland. None of them seemed to quite understand why she had to leave, and… she couldn’t explain Jhudora to them, either.

     And they’d probably ask about Jhudora. By now, Illusen knew that her ongoing interest in Jhudora’s doings had entered the ever-whirling Faerieland rumour mill—not to mention the fact that Illusen had set up her own, seemingly copy-Kadoatie quests.

     But Illusen didn’t want to explain.

     I can stop her by myself. No one else needs to get involved. And maybe… maybe she’ll listen to me. Eventually. Maybe we can make amends.

     Neopets were often overawed enough by the fact that Illusen was a faerie that they usually listened when Illusen told them she didn’t want to talk about what had happened between her and Jhudora. But…

     They were friendly, certainly. She’d become well-acquainted with some of them—through frequent quests or becoming part of her growing group of informants. But none of them were really friends.

     Family was out. Friends were out.

     Except…

     There was one member of Illusen’s family who, perhaps, might listen. Might understand a little. Might not press Illusen for information she didn’t want to give.

     Illusen hadn’t spoken with her aunt in… quite some time. Illusen’s mother, Ilaina, rarely spoke of her, though she’d taken Illusen to visit a few times when Illusen had been younger. Illusen’s grandmother Ilurel seemed to prefer to pretend her eldest daughter didn’t exist.

     But…

     Illusen took a deep breath.

     I think I’d like to visit her. See if she’s willing to chat.

     I don’t know her all that well, really, but we do have something in common, now.

     We’ve both left Faerieland for the lands beneath… though her forest is a bit darker than mine.

     Still. It’s something.

     She’d set out tomorrow morning, she decided. She’d put out a sign to tell questers she was out for the day.

     And then she’d pay a visit to the Haunted Woods to see her Aunt Ilere.

     The Haunted Woods were dark and quiet, redolent with the scent of damp, decaying leaves.

     Illusen made her way through the woods by lamplight, stepping around tangled roots and gnarled knots of underbrush.

     This forest felt far less welcoming than her Glade, and she wasn’t entirely certain she’d be welcomed at her destination.

     Illusen winced as she stepped in something damp and squelchy. She paused a moment to wipe her boots—she’d left her usual green ballet-style shoes at home in lieu of some sturdier boots, and a good thing, too—and sighed, continuing with a bit more care.

     She squinted, lifting her lantern. She should be close, she thought, though her memories of this place were faded with time, and she’d only ever been here a few times when her mother had come to visit.

     At last, she broke into a little clearing around a massive tree with a stone door, engraved with Faerietongue runes, set into the trunk.

     She wondered if any Neopets ever came by and thought the inscription was some sort of ancient, powerful faerie spell, when really it just said “Ilere’s house. Travelling salespeople will be cursed.”

     Illusen took a deep breath and walked up to the door.

     Maybe this was a foolish idea, Illusen thought. but I’m here now. I can’t turn back.

     She placed one hand on the stone door. It seemed rude to just barge in, but she couldn’t see any sort of doorbell or door-knocker, and she doubted just rapping with her knuckles would be very audible from inside—

     “Niece.”

     The voice came from behind Illusen; she just managed to keep herself from reacting beyond a startled twitch. She turned around.

     “Aunt Ilere,” said Illusen. “It’s... been a while.”

     Ilere looked just as Illusen remembered—a long, dark, hooded robe; a tangle of long, dark green hair; bright green eyes; pale, leafy green wings that seemed unsettlingly touched with decay; a quiet, imposing presence. She was carrying a basket full of mushrooms; Illusen wasn’t familiar enough with the local flora to know whether Ilere was planning to use them to make potions, poisons, or dinner.

     “It has,” said Ilere. She looked steadily at Illusen, and said nothing more.

     “Are you… terribly busy today?” asked Illusen. “I wanted to… catch up a bit. You know.”

     She remembered her aunt as calm, quiet, and a bit intimidating, but… not unkind. In their few meetings, she’d had at least a few polite words for her niece.

     Ilere studied Illusen for a few more moments, then said “You’ve come a long way. You might as well come inside for a short while.”

     “Thank you,” said Illusen.

     Ilere, saying nothing more, brushed by Illusen and, with a wave of her hand, bid the stone door slide open. Ilere disappeared into the tree, letting Illusen follow.

     The inside of Ilere’s home, too, was much as Illusen remembered it from years ago.

     The stone door opened into a little grassy courtyard of sorts; the massive tree from which Ilere had made her home had been hollowed out, and a smaller trunk that held Ilere’s actual tree-house—the doors and windows of which resembled a snarling face—emerged from the ground within the larger trunk.p>There was a small stone table in the yard, with a tiny stream flowing beside it. Ilere tilted her head towards one of the chairs at the table. “Go ahead and sit down. I’ll be out in a moment with tea.”

     With that, Ilere disappeared into the tree-house.

     Illusen sank down into a chair and let out a great puff of air. Here she was, at last.

     Well, what now? she asked herself. I’ve gotten this far, at least, and my aunt seems willing to talk to me, even when I came barging in unannounced. Which is nice of her.

     Ilere was not known to be a particularly warm or friendly faerie. It was rather the opposite. Illusen was aware of some of the rumours and legends surrounding her aunt—tales that had grown over the centuries Ilere had dwelled within the Haunted Woods. But Illusen also knew that rumours didn’t always speak the whole truth, and a faerie who valued solitude might choose to encourage the sort of rumors that would keep visitors away.

     And in fairness, Illusen could understand the urge to curse a Neopet who barged into a patch of forest you’d been tending, picked all the flowers, trampled most of the mushrooms, and then carved their own name into one of the trees—though of course, Illusen would limit herself to giving the offender a stern talking-to.

     After a few minutes, Ilere emerged from the mouth-door of her tree, tea settings levitating over the palms of her upturned hands. With a turn of her wrists, Ilere set the teapot, saucers, spoons, and pot of what Illusen guessed was honey down on the table before sitting down herself.

     “It’s mint tea,” said Ilere. “Would you like a cup?”

     “Yes, thank you,” said Illusen.

     Ilere poured tea for them both, added just a drop of honey to her own cup, and sat back.

     Illusen took a careful sip of her tea. It was… pretty good, actually. Ilere had clearly used fresh mint; she had probably grown or gathered it herself.

     The two faeries sat in silence for a few moments.

     Illusen took a deep breath.

     “I know it’s been a while,” she said.

     “So you said earlier,” said Ilere.

     “I… suppose I haven’t really tried to visit you ever, really,” said Illusen. “On my own, I mean. I always sort of thought you valued your solitude, and…”

     She trailed off.

     “I do,” said Ilere, taking a sip of tea. “That’s why I live out here.”

     “I… know you weren’t expecting company,” said Illusen. “I would have written ahead, but… you’re difficult to reach.”

     Illusen’s mother might have known how to get a letter to Ilere. But if Illusen had asked her mother, then her mother would have wanted to know why Illusen even wanted to write Ilere, much less visit her. It would have been a whole thing.

     So instead Illusen had just barged in, unannounced.

     I suppose I’m lucky she let me in, Illusen thought. Though at least she knew I wasn’t here to try and sell her anything.

     “I am,” Ilere acknowledged. “It’s one of the other benefits of living in the middle of the Haunted Woods.”

     “I…” Illusen said, then stopped herself. I’m sorry would have seemed insincere. Instead, she said “Thank you for letting me in. I really do appreciate it.” She took another sip of tea. “I… suppose you’ve heard I moved away from Faerieland.”

     “No,” said Ilere. “I hadn’t. I don’t generally care to keep up with matters outside my corner of the world.”

     “Ah,” said Illusen. “Well. I settled down in a forest glade in Meridell. It’s… wonderful.”

     The corners of Ilere’s mouth shifted upward, just a bit. “I know of Meridell. It’s not quite to my own tastes, but I imagine it suits you as well as the Haunted Woods suit me.”

     Illusen nodded. “Yes. It’s… it’s home in a way Faerieland never was. Mother thinks I’m a fool for leaving Faerieland—she called it a backwater mudheap the first time I saw her after I settled in—but now that I’ve put down roots, I don’t understand how any earth faerie can stand to live up in the clouds.”

     “Some earth faeries favour gardens in neat little boxes,” said Ilere. “I prefer things a bit… less tame. I suppose you must feel the same way.”

     Illusen nodded.

     “Is that why you came to visit?” Ilere asked. “Looking for advice? Techniques to weave your power more effectively into the terrain? Ways to keep intruders out?”

     “No—not really,” said Illusen. “I think I’m doing all right with my glade, and… I suppose I’ve invited all Neopia to visit, more-or-less.”

     “Oh?” said Ilere.

     “I’ve been… offering quests,” said Illusen. “Items in exchange for things I’ve made.”

     “Ah,” said Ilere. “Why?”

     “I…” Illusen looked down at her teacup. How to explain? How much did she want to?

     Ilere, at least, wouldn’t run off to the Faerieland authorities about anything Illusen might say about Jhudora. But…

     “I had a friend, a few years ago,” said Illusen. “Her name was Jhudora. She’s a dark faerie. We… grew apart. And now I think that she’s trying to do something. I don’t know exactly what. I have guesses, but she’s asking for so many odd things—it’s hard to tell how much she actually needs and how much is just camouflage.” Illusen sighed. “For all I know, she could just be trying to build the world’s biggest plushie collection… but I doubt it.”

     “Hm,” said Ilere. She took another sip of tea. “You seek to counter her.”

     “Yes,” said Illusen. “I’m not entirely sure what she’s doing, but whatever it is, it’s possibly… harmful.”

     “Harmful to who?” Ilere asked.

     Illusen ran her thumb over the handle of the teacup. “It’s… it might damage the place she casts whatever magic plans to use. It might hurt Neopians. It might hurt her, especially if she tries and fails.”

     “And why,” asked Ilere, “is it your business, specifically?”

     “Because she was my friend,” said Illusen.

     Because I could have stopped her, maybe. Because maybe, if I were better—wiser—kinder—if I could find the right words—I could have found a way to turn her towards a better path, and we might still be… what we once were.

     “So?” Ilere replied.

     “So I can’t let her do this,” said Illusen. “It’s not like I could go to the Faerieland Guard or anything over just… suspicion.” And before that—the incident that caused their final, fatal fracture in what once had laid between them—it was too late to tell anyone, even if she wanted to. All evidence was long since gone, and… well. No one had actually gotten hurt, in the end.

     Though Illusen’s heart had ached, afterwards.

     “You suspect strongly enough to invite strangers to stomp all over your woodlands,” said Ilere. “So why not act on your suspicions? Few enemies cause much trouble once you’ve turned them into mushrooms.”

     For a moment, Illusen stared blankly at her aunt. “I. I can’t—I can’t possibly turn Jhudora into a mushroom!”

     “Not one mushroom. That would be ridiculous,” said Ilere. “Multiple mushrooms. A nice cluster that could be planted on a suitable log, to aid in its return to the soil while improving your glade’s ambience. I’d be willing enough to teach you how, though I’d expect some manner of compensation in return, even if you are my niece.”

     “No—I don’t think—” Illusen placed her hands on the edge of the table, took a deep, calming breath, and said “Thank you for your… kind offer, Aunt, but I must decline.”

     “Must you,” said Ilere, with a glint in her eyes. “Well. I’ll leave the offer open.”

     Illusen was starting to wonder if there might be more truth to some of the darker rumours surrounding Ilere than Illusen liked to think about.

     Though perhaps the mushroom thing was meant as a joke. Illusen decided she was going to believe that until she had evidence otherwise.

     “Still,” said Ilere. “I do wonder why you came here, to me. If you wanted a sympathetic ear and nice, diplomatic suggestions, surely your mother would have been a better choice than your estranged reclusive aunt whom you’ve met… hm, half a dozen times, perhaps.”

     “It’s… because it’s not your concern,” said Illusen. “At least, that’s part of the reason why.”

     “Ah. I wondered if it was because you wanted someone to give you permission to engage in darker pursuits,” said Ilere. “And if that’s any part of it, then—go ahead. Do whatever you like, so long as it doesn’t interfere with me. Turn your enemies into mushrooms, or fill their homes with Cheery Blossoms, or speak pretty words to their face and hiss poison behind their back. Turn your Glade into a tourist attraction, if that’s what you want to do. But.”

     Ilere leaned forward in her chair. “But. It’s foolish to complain about your circumstances when you could, if you so chose, change them.”

     Illusen sighed.

     “Can I?” she asked. “I’m not… you.”

     “Obviously,” said Ilere. “But I wasn’t always who I am now. I grew up in Faerieland too, you know—went to the Academy, did an apprenticeship… but I found that Faerieland didn’t suit me. So I left, and found a place that did. I’m content here. But you don’t seem to be.”

     “It’s not so bad, really,” said Illusen. “The Neopets who visit me are usually quite nice. They want to help. It’s just… I wish…”

     Ilere raised an eyebrow.

     Illusen grimaced. “I guess you’d say that if I really wanted to just live alone in peace, I could do that. I could just… stop. Forget all of this.”

     Ilere sipped her tea silently.

     “I wish,” said Illusen, quietly, “that I didn’t still care.”

     “Do you truly?” Ilere asked, voice soft as shadow.

     Illusen hesitated. “No,” she said. “I don’t… I wish Jhudora wasn’t… the way she is. But I can’t change that.”

     “I did offer you a way to do that,” said Ilere.

     “That’s not how I want her to change,” said Illusen. “I wish… I wish she’d care as much about things as I do. About Neopia. About everyone around her. About not using spells that might put others in harm’s way if things go wrong.”

     About me. About… us.

     Ilere sighed. “If you fear she’ll cause harm to others, tell others, and let them do as they will. If they don’t believe you, that’s their problem, not yours. As a faerie, you’re bound, as we all are, to play our role in keeping Neopia in proper order. You are not bound to suffer under a self-imposed burden to help those who won’t help themselves… or keep a former friend out of trouble that she’s earned. And if you still feel compelled to follow this path, then I would advise you to consider—really consider—if she’s actually worth the trouble you’re bringing on yourself.”

     Illusen looked down at her half-empty teacup.

     Is she? Is she worth all this?

     “I…” Illusen started, then stopped.

     The air was still and quiet. Illusen could hear herself breathing; could almost hear her own heart beat.

     “I don’t know,” said Illusen. “But… I don’t want to give up.”

     “If that’s your choice,” said Ilere, “then I hope you’ll be satisfied with it, and all that comes as a result.”

     Illusen nodded, slowly. “It’s strange. Nothing’s changed, really, but… somehow, I feel better about everything.”

     Ilere snorted. “You just needed to talk to someone, I suppose, and for whatever reason you thought I was your best option.” She paused a moment. “Though I suppose it might also have been the tea. I’ve spent a century developing a couple of the varieties of mint in here, and they’re quite good. Next time you visit, bring me something suitable and perhaps I’ll let you take a cutting or two in trade.”

     “The tea was very good,” said Illusen. “And… I’ll make time to visit again.”

     “But do write ahead, next time,” said Ilere. “You caught me in a good mood, and you are my niece, but I don’t generally appreciate unexpected guests. I’d advise you send a brief note ahead of you.” She snapped her fingers, and a few acorns rattled onto the table.

     “Take those,” said Ilere. “If you need to send me a message, place one on top of the sheet of paper and use a standard sending spell. That way it will reach me. It should go without saying that I’ll be rather annoyed if anyone else gets their hands on those, of course; I’m not interested in getting notes from random strangers.”

     “Of course,” said Illusen, taking the acorns and slipping them into her bag. It felt like a clear dismissal, though not an unkind one, so she slurped up the last of her tea and got to her feet. “Aunt Ilere… thank you.”

     Ilere simply nodded. “Of all my living kin, you’ve annoyed me the least, overall. Let us both hope that continues to be the case. Perhaps I’ll see you again in a few seasons.”

     “I’ll let you know,” said Illusen. “And… I’ll see if I can bring something from my Glade to trade for your mint.”

     Ilere smiled slightly. “I’ll be interested to see what you might offer. Safe travels, niece.”

     With that, Ilere rose from the table, picked up the table settings, and carried them back into her tree.

     Illusen left quietly, closing the stone door behind her. She took a deep breath, then paused a few moments to just feel the dark forest around her—the damp air, the soft rustling of leaves, the scent of cold soil.

     Then she cast a teleportation spell, returning to her glade in a puff of green smoke.

     Illusen found some time between questers to plant a few more patches of wildflowers, closer to the path Neopets generally took to visit her—ones which she wouldn’t mind if a few got picked. She also placed a sign asking Neopets to please stay on the path to avoid harming the young and growing plants.

     Of course, it didn’t work on everyone. When she spotted a Blue Ixi walking right over the freshly-planted flowers, despite the fact that the Ixi was within spitting distance of the sign, Illusen felt a surge of irritation—tried to shove it down—felt an all-too-familiar tightness in her chest—

     —but then, Illusen suddenly had the mental image of a gigantic, fluffy blue mushroom with tiny horns sprouting from the cap.

     The thought was ridiculous enough to make Illusen’s annoyance evaporate, and as she glided over to ask the Ixi to step off the flower seeds, Illusen found that her smile didn’t feel as forced as it might have felt a few days ago.

     The Ixi seemed suitably chagrined and she apologized, which Illusen gracefully accepted.

     Sometimes, Illusen knew, Neopets would step on her plants, and sometimes they’d pick flowers she didn’t want them to pick… but Illusen could probably find ways to make that happen less.

     I can deal with it, thought Illusen, without adding any new mushrooms to my glade.

     She’d put up signs. She’d talk to Neopets—gently, but firmly—about how she wanted her glade to be treated.

     She’d develop friendships with some of them, and they’d help, too—offer a helping hand and a guiding word to Neopets who weren’t as familiar with Illusen’s glade.

     She’d keep on going. She’d keep on preparing. She’d be ready for whatever Jhudora might be planning.

     And… something Ilere had said had given Illusen an idea.

     As Illusen fluttered back to her cabin, she thought about where to mass-order some quick-growing Cheery Blossoms for a very special person.

     The End.