Frotwoot's Faerie Tales by Charlie Ward

Author:Charlie Ward [Ward, Charlie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy
Google: LRYpBgAAQBAJ
Publisher: Charlie Ward
Published: 2015-01-20T18:18:30+00:00

Too dazed to stay airborne, Frotwoot fell back down to the domed glass and nearly broke back through it before beginning to roll painfully down its surface. He wasn’t able to stop himself until the dome ended and there were some slanted shingles to grab onto, which he just barely managed to do before rolling off the roof completely.

“Ow,” he moaned pointedly, glaring ruefully up at the clear blue sky as if this were its fault.

“Frotwoot, you must continue! Thy pursuers are no longer distracted, and are giving chase!”

“… Okay,” said Frotwoot, who nevertheless continued to just lay there. “Okay.”

“Frotwoot, go! Now!”

Wincing in pain, Frotwoot slowly rose to his knees and took off flying straight ahead. He seemed to be okay at going in one direction, at least, and since the people chasing him had flown off in almost the exact opposite one he didn’t really need to try another to escape.

“How do I get down?” he asked, glancing at the bustling city below him and then doing a double-take because it was unlike anything he’d ever seen before. It was almost as if a modern architect had designed a bunch of buildings as an homage to the Middle Ages and gone too far… or, as if an architect from the Middle Ages had tried to guess what the future would look like and gotten pretty close.

“I knowest not. As I said, I am not a faerie, and have thus never had wings.”

“Great,” sighed Frotwoot, scanning the rows of buildings ahead of him for one that was high enough to drop onto. There were some very tall ones coming up (a couple of anachronistic-looking skyscrapers, in fact) and one of them was directly in his flight path. Fortunately, a suitably tall but also suitably short building soon presented itself (it looked like an apartment complex mixed with a castle tower), and Frotwoot was able to fall onto and skid across it with a minimum of pain. “Ow,” he said for what felt like the hundredth time today before rolling onto his back and getting as comfortable as he could. “Okay, so… what’s the deal, tree guy?”

“The ‘deal’?”

“You said you have some stuff to tell me, right?”

“Oh yes, of course! Where wouldst thou like me to start?”

“I don’t care. Whatever’s easiest.”

“… Very well. Then I shall start at the beginning: My name is Finvarra Dryadia. I am of the Magi (known to you as ‘the magic men’), and, in a sense, am the creator of all those who populate Seelie. Long ago, you see, many hundreds of years, in fact, I was tasked with giving amazing gifts to the people of ancient Ireland—”

“Ireland?”

“Yes, Ireland. For you see, while the my people are not of Earth, our science, which thou wouldst call ‘magic’, did allow us to go there, using that which we did call ‘ring portals’, the like of which you did even today use to come here, to Seelie. Those wondrous inventions (which I did invent) did allow us to

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