The Hybrid (7 page)

Option one seemed to be the most logical.
Normal
. It
had to be. If she didn’t see anything at this moment, Tru
would go home, and forget all about the myth and the
conversation she had the night before with the mysterious
voices.

Slowly, Tru raised her head, and took a deep breath.
One, two, thr ⎯

“Wait,” the young man’s familiar voice whispered in
Tru’s ear. She could hear the distant sound of the grass
crunching under his feet as he advanced across the field
in front of her.

But she listened, and kept her eyes shut, mostly out of
fear.
“What do you want from me?” Tru whispered back to
the man.
“I want to know why you keep coming here.” The
humming noise could be heard in the distance, followed
by a light breeze, caressing her softly on the cheek.
“I like it here,” she lied. “It’s peaceful.”
“That is a lie.” He was louder now. His voice echoed
across the field.
How does he know? Can he hear what I’m thinking?
Or can he hear it in my voice?
“I have seen you here, many times. You sit and wait.
What are you waiting for?”
Tru listened as the sound of flapping wings grew louder and closer. Her eyes closed tighter, making sure that
no light could be seen through her eyelids.
“What do you want from us?” he asked. His voice held
a strange force behind it this time, and sounded as though
he was less than an inch from Tru’s ear.
“I want to know everything,” she whispered, placing
her head back into her knees.
“Why?”
Tru didn’t respond.
“Why do you hide your face?” the cool and smooth
voice asked. “Why do you close your eyes?” The crunching
grass sound began again, and for a second, Tru could hear
the sound of the young man taking a deep breath.
“I’m afraid.” Tru couldn’t help it. She knew what she
was talking to, but was he one of the good ones?
Were
there good ones?
“Afraid
of
what,
exactly?
Do
I
frighten
you?” He
sounded alarmed. He sounded almost shocked that
Tru
was the one afraid of
him
. But his voice was still smooth
⎯ placid almost⎯ like a ripple-free pool of water, but it
was not a baritone voice. It was soft with feeling⎯ enticing and thoughtful. His slight accent ⎯a mixture of English and something Mediterranean⎯ and choice of words
made him sound ethereal, like he was born in another
century. But he sounded much too young for that to be
possible.
“I’m only frightened because I don’t know who,” ⎯
or
what
⎯ “you are.”
“Well, I think you know very well
what
I am.”
Tru paused for a moment, still slightly shocked that he
had known what she was thinking.
“Then what is your name?” Tru lifted her head, but her
eyes remained shut.
“My name is Edyn.”
His name was simple, but so beautiful. It was like a
song that found itself stuck in Tru’s head, twisting each
syllable, each letter, into its own melody. It was a simple
name, but the way he said it made it sound so complex, so
intoxicating.
“How tall are you?” Tru immediately felt stupid for
choosing that as her first question, but she had no idea.
How tall is a fairy supposed to be?
“I am six feet and two inches tall.”
Am I really hearing this?
Tru didn’t move. She couldn’t even speak. Tru thought
fairies were merely inches tall, like the ones she used to
read about in
fairy
tales. The image of Tinkerbell quickly
flashed in her mind, and for a second, she wanted to
laugh, but she resisted, not wanting to accidently offend
Edyn.
Edyn began to chuckle. But what was
he
laughing at?
“Still, you do not move. And you do not open your
eyes. ‘I don’t want to hurt you,’ were those not your
words? Should I now speak the same? I have no intentions of harming you either.” There was a slight shifting
noise as he spoke.
Tru rested her forehead on top of her knees, taking
slow, deep breaths, making sure her lungs filled completely before letting out the air, while she gained a bit of
confidence.
His voice was a fire smoldering in Tru’s ears. She could
hear the grass crunch under his feet again as he slowly
walked away from her, paused, and then turned around
and came closer. Warm air suddenly steamed against her
cheek. She knew then that Edyn was merely inches from
her face. His breath felt warm and smelled fresh, like the
air after a rainstorm.
“You intrigue me,” he whispered. “You remind me of
someone I once knew. I was startled when I saw you in
the meadow a few days ago.”
Edyn knew her grandma. She reminded Edyn of Maggie. Tru knew, from the moment he first talked to her,
that he was the same man from last night, and after realizing what he was saying, her head shot up like a cannon.
Instantly, Tru’s eyes landed on the beautiful creature
kneeling before her. His face was just inches from her.
His dusty brown locks of hair flowed down his cheeks,
stopping just at his chiseled jaw line. His skin was tan,
holding a sense of warmth to it. His eyes were deep pools
of glassy green that had seemed to pierce right through
Tru. Staring at them, she became entranced. She couldn’t
look away as they focused on her.
He didn’t wear a shirt, making it easier to see that his
almost perfectly shaped chest and defined arms were covered in what looked like tribal tattoos. Each design was
different, unique, and surprisingly, they didn’t look out of
place on his semi-slender body. His shorts were made of
various plants and animal skins, slightly frayed and worn
at the edges, indicating that he probably didn’t have anything else to wear but these. Tru noticed, as she looked
him over, that attached to his waist on a small leather
belt, was a sheath, concealing what looked to be a small
dagger with a hand-carved, wooden hilt. Edyn didn’t wear
shoes, but his feet were unexpectedly clean, as if he had
never spent a single day on the ground.
And then, Tru’s eyes focused her attention directly behind Edyn’s head, now seeing what she had missed before. His massive wings were a deep shade of burgundy.
Each one spread at least five feet away from the center of
his back. They weren’t girly wings like she was expecting
either. They were just as masculine as Edyn was. Each
wing was fraying around the edges, like pieces of paper
burnt in a fire. They looked old and weathered, but strong
at the same time. They reminded Tru of very large, but
very delicate, leaves.
Edyn was at eye level with Tru, kneeling on one of his
knees, about a foot away from her face. She couldn’t
speak, and it took the touch of Edyn’s warm hand on her
chin to realize that her mouth had fallen open the minute
she had opened her eyes.
“Is everything alright?” Edyn asked. His mouth began
to curve into a small smile, with a pair of dimples slowly
peeking through his smooth cheeks.
“I’m fine,” Tru squeaked. It was hardly audible, but at
least she managed to say
something
.

Suddenly, something about sitting so still, felt off to
Tru. Her mind was no longer joined to her body. It was
like she was watching herself from above, as her torso fell
back against the grass. The young man leaned over her,
touching his warm palm to her cheek.

Soon, the faint sound of steady breathing began to beat
in Tru’s ears. She counted each breath, as they ticked by
like the seconds on an old clock. One, two, three, four,
five⎯

It took about twenty more breaths for her to realize
that the sound she was hearing was her own breath.
In,
out, in, out
.

Her lungs filled with air one more time before she
opened her eyes. Tru released the air, and put her hands
at her side pushing herself up from the ground.

Too fast
, she thought to herself.
The meadow spun for a moment, but Tru remained
conscious this time. She took a few more deep breaths,
and then looked up at the trees. It was darker now, the
last few rays of sunlight were shining across the sky, illuminating the clouds, turning them different shades of
pink and gold, poking their way through the small nooks
and crannies of the overgrown pine trees.
Edyn was nowhere to be seen, but Tru thought maybe
it was for the best.
Yeah, right. Where is he?
“Hello?” she called to the open air, as she rose to her
feet. “Edyn?”
“You are awake. I was worried about you.”
Tru spun around quickly. Standing in front of her was
Edyn. He looked just as beautiful in the failing light as he
had earlier that day. The only difference was that his
wings were now folded neatly behind his back, visible only through the crevices between his arms and his torso.
The golden sunset glistened off of his skin.
“You are not going to faint on me again are you?” he
asked, placing his hand on Tru’s shoulder. His eyes were
now a deep turquoise, but they were somehow still glassy
and warm.
“I don’t think so,” Tru replied, gazing up into his eyes.
It seemed as though he was more than six inches taller
than her as she craned her neck back to look at him.
“Where did you go?” She looked around the meadow.
“I was hiding.” He looked down at his bare feet in the
damp grass. A few individual blades were poking between
the spaces in his toes.
“From what?” Tru looked back at him, fear written on
her face. From what
she
could tell, they were the only
ones in the meadow.
What are fairies afraid of anyway?
“My brother.”
Tru took a slight sigh, instantly relieved that he hadn’t
been hiding from any other mythological beast that might
rip them to shreds at a moment’s notice.
As far as Tru
knew, anything was possible now.
“Is he looking for you?”
“I am not sure. But he does not really approve of me
talking to one of
your
kind.” He looked up from the
ground, locking his gaze with Tru.
“You mean
humans
?” she whispered.
He hesitated before his lips could formulate the word,
“yes.” He did not move. “If he knew I was here, things
would be happening very differently right now.”
There was a long silence.
Tru thought for a moment of what might happen if his
brother had seen Edyn talking to her. She could see the
entire scene playing out in her mind like a movie.
Edyn and Tru would be standing in the center of the
small hidden meadow. Edyn’s brother would manage to
stumble upon the clearing, following the sound of distant
voices. He would see Tru ⎯ obviously a human ⎯ and
become furious with Edyn. His brother would then continue lurking in the shadows, waiting for his opportune
moment. When the time was right, he would fly at her, in
an attempt to get rid of her, and then everything would go
dark, just like before. Except this time, Tru knew she
wouldn’t wake up.
She quickly shuddered at the thought, trying to shove
it out of her mind, but her head began to spin again. She
instantly turned to face away from Edyn, trying to catch
her breath.
He chuckled. “Is everything okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine, I promise.”
As long as I don’t look at you again, then, sure, I’ll be
fine,
she thought.
Tru walked over to the edge of the trees and pretended
to look at them by picking a pine needle off of a low hanging branch. She could have sworn she heard him laughing
quietly behind her again.
“Then why do you walk away from me?” He stood next
to her now, just inches from Tru’s right shoulder. She
could feel his eyes staring down at her.
Tru looked down at the ground, letting the hair from
her ponytail fall to the side of her cheek so that she
couldn’t see him out of the corner of her eye. She didn’t
know why, but she walked away from him. She didn’t
want to. She wanted to be closer, but she was scared that
this was just a trick. She was being called to him, like a
bee to a flower, like a naïve girl to a wonderful, magnificent, gorgeous creature that was going to take her away
into the forest.
Tru could feel the warm blood rushing into her cheeks.
“I don’t know,” she whispered.
When she turned to look up at Edyn, the blood in her
cheeks began rising even more. It felt like her head was
going to explode. Tru took a deep breath. But before she
could speak, Edyn opened his mouth and began talking.
“Ask me what you want to ask. Please, I cannot take
this silence anymore. It is killing me.”
Tru hadn’t realized that there must have been more
than mere seconds of stillness between the two of them.
“I know you have questions for me. Why do you not
ask them?”
But which one was she supposed to ask first?
How old is he? Why don’t fairies live peacefully with
humans anymore? Why is he so beautiful? What does his
name mean? What is his favorite color? Am I dreaming?
Does he get cold without a shirt? What did the tattoos
mean? Why am I going crazy over him?
As her mind went on a wild rampage, Tru could hear
the faint sound of laughter coming from Edyn’s direction
once again.
Quickly, she twisted around and walked back to the
center of the meadow so she could distance herself from
him. Tru looked up at the moon that now hung in a cloudless sky, and then back down at the meadow that was
flooded with its light.
“You were the one who came to me last night. You
knew my grandma, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
Tru looked back at him.
“She knew you when she was younger?”
“Yes.”
“And you loved her, didn’t you?”
There was no answer.
“And she loved you?”
Still, there was no answer.
“But she chose my grandfather.” Tru looked away from
him. She knew she had hit a sour note, and by the look on
his face, she could tell he wasn’t happy. Maggie and the
young man standing before Tru were in love at one point
in time. But for some reason, she chose someone else.
Was she crazy? What could possibly make her choose
another man over this one? What were his flaws? What
was he possibly missing? Could my grandpa offer her
something Edyn could not? Did she want something better than him?
Edyn’s eyes had become almost heartbreaking. Pools of
tears were lined around their edges. And strangely, they
were now a very deep hunter green color. Tru couldn’t
help but watch him, feeling his pain almost instantly.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. She walked closer to him,
but not close enough touch him if she reached out her
hand. She didn’t know what he was capable of when he
experienced different emotions.
But, he did not move. He didn’t even speak.
The silence was killing her. Tru didn’t mean to make
him upset, and now that she had, she felt that she was
going to lose her one chance at having a friend here. True,
she had Bethany, but her friendship was not something
Tru really enjoyed. She didn’t fit in with Bethany and her
high-maintenance friends. Tru wanted Edyn’s friendship.
She
required
Edyn’s friendship. She felt strangely connected to the young man standing in front of her. They
had something in common, but Tru wasn’t quite sure yet
what that might be.
The two of them stood in the dark⎯ God only knows
how long⎯ staring at one another. Tru watched his eyes
turn from their once dark hunter green to a very calm and
collected sea foam hue, the only evidence that showed
that he was possibly calming down.
“Do not be sorry.”
Finally
, she thought.
He cautiously walked closer to her. “Reliving the past
is not a recommended pass-time for anyone.”
“But I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“You were inquisitive. I understand. I would have done
the same thing if I were curious about that sort of thing.”
He looked at the ground.
“So, how old are you?” Tru had to change the subject.
She felt horrible that she made him feel so sad, so helpless, and alone.
“Older
than
most
people.” He
smirked.
His pearly
white teeth were visible through the small sliver of space
between his lips.
Vague. Too vague,
Tru thought.
He suddenly began to fidget.
“Then how old would you say people might think you
are?” To Tru, he looked about seventeen, her age, maybe
even eighteen. But would he stay looking that way for
much longer?
“I have not yet asked any⎯ people⎯ but if I were to
ask, I am almost certain they would say that I appear to
be seventeen human years old.”
I was right
.
“But I have been alive much longer than that. One of
our years is about twenty of yours.” He crossed his arms
over his chest. “One night of mine, is twenty of yours.”
“So wait a minute,” Tru did the math quickly in her
head, her eyebrows curling on her forehead, “you’re telling me that you’re almost three hundred and fifty years
old?”
“Roughly.” He put a hand to his chin, as if he were doing the math himself. “I have lost track.”
Tru’s mouth fell open. She had expected him to say
something more realistic, that they didn’t keep track of
their years, or that he really was just seventeen years old.
Not three hundred and fifty.
He laughed quietly under his breath.
“Do you have any other siblings? I mean, other than
your brother?”
“No, it is just my brother and I. My father passed almost one hundred of your human years ago. My mother
left us shortly before that. I haven’t seen her since.” He
looked at Tru with his piercing eyes. She noticed that he
did not blink once as he spoke.
“What did your father die from?” Tru wondered what a
fairy
could
die from? And how long could a fairy live?
“He was murdered while he slumbered.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Tru wished instantly that she were
flexible enough to put her foot in her mouth. She seemed
to say exactly the wrong thing at exactly the wrong time.
“My father was the king of our colony. Death was inevitable. There is always someone looking to take power
away from authority.” He walked smoothly to the edge of
the trees. His head barely bobbed with each stride.
“So does that mean you’re the king now?” Tru watched
him as he made his way around the perimeter of the small
meadow. He didn’t look like a king, but that didn’t mean
that he didn’t look like he could be a leader some day.
“No.” He smiled as he stopped and stared at Tru. “I am
still currently just a prince. My brother is a year, one of
your human years, older than me.
He
is the king.” He
walked back toward her. “I love my brother. He is all I
have. But he has his rules, and he
loves
his rules.”
When he reached the spot in the meadow, less than a
foot away from where Tru was standing, his hand slowly
moved toward hers, resting at her side. She wanted to
reach for it, terribly. She wanted to feel the warmth of his
tan skin against hers once more. It was getting colder in
the open meadow, and the thought of this young man
warming her with just the single touch of his skin grew in
her mind. Tru’s heart began to beat faster in her chest,
each thump pounded in her head. She could feel her
cheeks beginning to blush again.