A kind-hearted wanderer who paints what he sees along his travels and believes the world is best viewed through paint-speckled lenses.
It is said that near the kingdom of Voeburt there is a leafman far lovelier than any other in the form of a shapely young maiden. Delicate vines of jasmine cling to her statuesque form, and her face bears a near-smile. What is less known, however, is who she was or how she came to take this form. There are those who know, but the story is a closely guarded secret of the fae. Sit a while, and I shall relate it to you.
Once upon a time, not so long ago, in the far off land of Norvrandt, there lived a fair young maiden and her precocious young son. These were far from the best of times, and raising a child as a single mother had proved to be incredibly challenging. Despite that fact, the two were relatively happy, and Evangeline worked hard to make young Finn’s life as enjoyable and free from the stress of the real world surrounding them as possible. While nobody could call the boy’s life idyllic, he certainly never wanted for much - and in fact, his mother’s doting and protection caused the boy to be perhaps a bit more daring than he had the right to be.
He was prone to feelings of wanderlust, often embarking on grand adventures ranging from the familiar realm of his own backyard, to more adventurous trips through the neighborhood at large. As he grew, this adventurous spirit became more and more difficult to manage and Evangeline feared for his safety - but try as she might, she could not stop the boy from cutting his own path through the woods, so to speak. It was during one of these excursions that young Finn had his first encounter with the fae folk.
He had been busying himself at a shallow creek, building a mock dam to raise the water level so that he could play with his single most prized possession: a hand carved toy boat, complete with tiny sails and delicate riggings. Once the task had been seen to, he placed the tiny boat on the water and stood back to assess its sea-worthiness. He laughed and clapped as the boat began to float effortlessly on the slow moving water, and then looked up suddenly as the sound of someone else laughing along with him was heard. He peered around in curiosity, expecting another child, but found none - instead, he called out “Hello, is anyone there?” Moments later, bashful giggling was the only reply he received, but the source of the laughter refused to reveal itself. Frightened, he gathered up his boat and returned home.
Not one to heed his good senses, he continued to return to the creek in the forest and over time came to know the source of the laughter as Aenc Uin - one of the fae folk who lived in nearby Il Mheg. They would share songs and stories and play. The young boy’s creativity, innocence and curiosity had attracted the fae, who quickly grew to love him as one of their own. It wasn’t long before their adventures drew them further and further toward the boundaries of the fae kingdom, and the warm invitations to explore their realm became too difficult to resist.
He should never have gone. He had heard the cautionary tales of the wickedness of the fae folk, but surely his friend was different. And besides, who could turn down an invitation to experience Il Mheg? It was in the spirit of that sentiment that he entered the realm of the fae.
When he didn’t come home on time, Evangeline began to panic. She retracted his steps through the forest, having accompanied him to the creek many times. She spoke to anyone she passed, inquiring whether or not they had seen him. Finally, she came upon someone who had - and her fears were heightened. They said they had seen him trudging through the forest, talking to himself, heading toward Il Mheg.
She, too, had heard the tales cautioning mothers to look after their children lest they be spirited away by the fae. She cursed herself a fool as she hurried along the path toward the border. After half a days journey, she finally spotted Finn sitting in a flowered clearing, laughing and playing with a group of pixies. What had been a momentary reverie for him, had been a grueling and nightmarish trip for her.
She crept as silently as possible toward them, hoping she might retrieve her son and make a hasty retreat before any harm could come to either of them. Her eyes locked on the scene before her, she failed to notice a gnarled root that snaked across her path until it was too late. The slender toe of her boot caught beneath it and she pitched forward onto the soft and damp earth, crushing a bed of wildflowers as she did so. Before she could catch her breath, she heard echos of high pitched laughter seemingly coming from every direction. She struggled to her feet, casting her eyes about as she tried to locate the source of the laughter which grew closer still. Just as she regained her composure, she reached out toward Finn who was still enraptured with the fairies and opened her mouth to call his name, but her voice had been taken by the impact of the fall. Instead, she heard the echoing of several high pitched voices chant in unison.
“Welcome, loud one, to our wood. We’ll handle you if you’re no good. Pull you under leaves and sticks. Punish you for all your tricks -” and the laughter returned, only louder and more sinister this time. As she reached her hand out pleadingly, she could see and feel a litany of vines erupting from her skin. She watched in horror as they sprouted greenery and coiled around her limbs, restricting her movement, and dimming her senses. In no more than the beat of a butterfly’s wings, it was over and where a young and vital woman stood, there now stood a solitary nondescript hedge.
From that day forth, Finn belonged to the fae, heart and soul. It’s true that he missed his mother, but his mind had been so bewitched by the fae and their magicks, that his mourning was seldom more than a passing pang of sadness. From an early age, Finn’s creative mind was cherished and praised by the pixies, and he turned it to the art of painting. By the time he reached nineteen summers, he was an accomplished artist whose mastery of color and light was nearly unrivaled.
As idyllic as his time in Il Mheg was, he began to feel that familiar sense of wanderlust which had led to his initial meeting with the fae. He spoke with his caretaker, Aenc Uin - and while they were filled with jealous fury at first, they eventually relented and gave Finn their blessing to travel at will. Finn packed his belongings, and his departure was celebrated by a series of festivities that took place over three days. He was showered with lavish gifts, the most precious of which a set of paints and brushes crafted from the local flora and fauna, and infused with fae magicks.
The afternoon before he departed Il Mheg, he sat with his caretaker, and asked the question that had burned his lips, but which he hadn’t dared ask in his years in the realm of the fae. Dejectedly, his caretaker admitted that his mother had followed him into their realm and been sentenced to spend eternity as a formless and lifeless hedge.
Finn’s sadness knew no bounds, he wept and wailed such that it was a disturbance to the entirety of the realm. Helplessly, Aenc Uin, offered to take him to the site of his mother’s final resting place. The two sat in solemn silence at the foot of the now gnarled and aged shrub which had become home to a family of birds who flitted about anxiously squawking at the human intruder.
After what seemed an interminable stretch of time, Finn took out his paints and brushes and set brush to paper. He worked feverishly, desperately attempting to capture his mother’s likeness as he remembered it, but every time he began to paint her, her skin melted and shifted from shades of rose kissed ivory into verdant shades of green shot through with brown, as dense vines replaced delicate flesh. Still, the shape of her was coming alive on the paper, so he toiled on. He captured the beauty of the forest around her, adorned her in a gown of lush florals, and blanketed the clearing around her in the prismatic brilliance of the ever-present rainbows of the fae realm.
Once finished, he looked upon the piece in its whole for the first time and a single tear fell and commingled with the wet paints. As he looked back up, he saw that Aenc Uin, too, was quietly weeping. Not saddened by the loss of Finn’s mother, but by the fact that their people had caused such pain in the one he cared for the most. “We are… sorr-”, they began, but then stopped short and instead simply pointed at the hedge which marked Finn’s mothers resting place.
When Finn turned his eyes toward the hedge, he found it completely suffused with brilliant prismatic light which was rapidly expanding to fill the whole of the clearing. Awestruck, Finn watched wordlessly as the shapeless hedge transformed into a perfect likeness of his mother, complete with a serene smile. Where dull green leaves had lay formerly, there was now a brilliant life and shine to her foliage, dotted here and there with fragrant jasmine flowers.
“Oh, my sweet, delicate sprout.” Cried Aenc Uin, “we are so very sorry…” They wiped a tear from their eyes, then continued, “We think she would be very proud of you.” A diminutive smile met their lips and the corners of their eyes. Finn kept his eyes on the the topiary form of his mother, but responded. “Why could I not paint her as she was?” He demanded, anger apparent in his voice for the first time in his days in the fae realm.
“Fae magicks are not so easily undone in our realm.”, responded Aenc Uin, sadly. “But your magick is plenty powerful, nonetheless, for having brought about such a change on a trick we have wrought.” They paused, then added. “Promise us you will be careful? We could never forgive ourselves if any harm befell you.” Finn looked back as he began to pack away his implements. He knew he must choose his words carefully, for the fae were quick to anger and prone to jealousy and rage. “I promise.” He said plainly, deciding in that moment that he would never again return to the realm of the fae.