I first met Hermes in February of 1972.
The Moonlight Lodge was a bar for types like me, opened after the property had been totaled by Lunarialaia during her first showdown with Flamma in ’71. Property got real cheap in Detroit around when the flying woman made it her stomping ground, perfect for a trust fund sapphic from Britain to set up shop. The owner had heard about the mayhem, and instead of being repulsed like some kind of sane person, dropped her entire life to come set things up here. The whole place embraced the vibe of the flying lady being just around the corner, complete with a full statue of her placed in a spot where her feet had cratered the ground in the center of the building. It was almost sycophantic, in that way. But no one minded that. A few years later, the woman herself would visit, in ’77, and give a pretty historic interview, but that was long after I’d left town.
That night had been perfect. It had been my 23rd birthday. I was celebrating my move to the city, a final act of rebellion against parents who had sent a priest to every single one of my previous birthdays. I was happy with how I was dressed and looked, wearing a very nice short white lace skirt, and an almost golden top with almost netlike holes in it’s sides which had been quite fashionable even when I’d picked it out a year ago. My blonde hair was put up in a bob, and amazing heart shaped earrings glittered in the light. I was in a big city at last, I’d gotten a free drink from the owner to celebrate that fact, and we’d seemingly hit it off, along with a couple other regulars. I was weaving my way across the floor, in between a woman with a winter coat on (it was summer) along with a set of broad brimmed lenes across her face, and someone who looked like she had just walked off of a red carpet. Neither of those who truly caught my eye though, instead it was a third individual, who my attention was demanded by.
She wore a white dress, designed as if she was from some kind of ancient summit. Low cut and sewn to display her legs to the world. She had perfect olive skin, brown eyes that could melt with a look, and nails sharp enough to cut glass. Her dark brown hair wreathed her neck like a scarf. I gazed at her in a mix of longingness and awe, for a few seconds longer then was perhaps acceptable. My eyes drifted all over her, and with a modicum less of self control, I likely would have started drooling.
She was perfect. And her eyes met mine.
When she beckoned me closer, I swore up and down that I had never been happier in my life. For those long moments that I spent approaching her, time felt like a feeble thing, something I was free of. When I finally stood before her, it was like being in the presence of something truly divine.
She smiled wide. In hindsight, too wide. A Cheshire sort of thing.
I always remembered the first words she spoke to me.
“Well aren’t you the prettiest little thing?”
The words had barely registered before I felt compelled to reply.
“That’s you.”
“I’m not little.” The statement was blunt, but rolled from the tongue like syrup.
It’s true, she was taller then me, by more then five inches. I was looking up to continue to meet those brown eyes.
“Erm-” My spell of perfect speech was gone. Back to my awkward little self. She was right about that. “-Sorry. Can I…buy you something?”
She placed a hand as a plane under her chin. Surveying the room.
“Yes. Yes you can.” She spoke with resolution, on that point. Her eyes literally glittered, as she laced her sharp fingers into my soft palm. “Lead me.”
I was hardly willing to refuse, as I weaved her closer to the bar. The woman tending to it gave my companion a slightly confused look, and I almost felt insulted on her behalf, but I dismissed that as a silly feeling…or was it?
I ordered the pair of us drinks, as we gingerly took our seats. I gave her a fond look, and she returned in kind, placing a hand under her chin again. A long pause that was broken by me.
“…This place is nice, huh?”
A contemplative expression crossed her face.
“I suppose it is. I’ve never seen one quite like it, in my travels along this plane”
I frowned.
“Excuse me?”
She cocked her head, the confusion I had felt spreading to her as well.
“Is that not a compliment? It’s special. I like it”
I had been confused by the plane comment. But I dropped it. Maybe English wasn’t her first language. She did have a very distinct accent, after all, though I couldn’t place where from.
“Sorry, I think I misheard you. It is special. I haven’t been to many places…quite so very lesbian.” I laughed a bit, and she joined in.
“I’ve been to the island itself, you know. Lesbos. It doesn’t live up to the modern meaning, sadly.”
I was tempted to act confused again, because I was. Island? But since she clearly seemed to know what she was talking about, I played along. Nodding.
“That’s cool! Well. Not cool that it’s not up to par, but-“
“Are you a poet?” She asked, very suddenly.
I frowned. Hanging my head slightly.
“No. I’m not. I leave the creativity to people smarter then me-” I tried my best to make it sound like a joke. I almost succeeded.
She seemed to nod.
Most of the rest of the conversation was long fragmented within my own memory by now. Back and forth questions that were odd from her, because she wasn’t human, and odd from me, because I was enraptured. But eventually, a few drinks in, she met my eyes. I felt like I was melting.
“You are lovely” She said, as if it were fundamental fact. “Would you like to come with me? I believe I need to head to…where I am staying.”
She stood, and I almost tripped over myself standing up. Straightening out, I nodded. “Y-Yes. Lead the way, please-” I presumed it was exactly what it was.
I followed her through the night, leaving the light and noise of the Lodge behind for a shockingly quiet segment of Detroit’s streets. I followed but a step behind her. A long silence passing over us. I didn’t think myself worthy to say anything more. I didn’t want to ruin it.
After a mere few minutes of walking, we had reached a strange looking hotel. I could have sworn there hadn’t been one there but a few days ago.
I did not let that deter me, and neither did she. Walking inside, and past the receptionist, who I noticed giving me a peculiar look. I ignorer her presumed homophobia. But when every single person we walked past gave that similar look, I became confused. My companion wove like she belonged, and not a single look was sent her way.
They began to whisper and congregate, pointing at me. Thankfully, that was the worst it got, for we soon arrived at what seemed to be her room. I didn’t see her produce a key, yet the door clicked unlocked, and she pushed the door open.
I walked into the shadowy room, and everything else from there was indescribable. The only way to articulate it would be through a sequence of emotions and physical feelings. These things were not inflicted, for they were not suffering of any sort, nor did I resist or want to resist at any stage. But what I felt was given, more then it was earned. She completely took control, and though I did have my moments, and did my best to ensure she felt something too (I learned later that she had an odd respect for that, which tragically brought me a semblance of pride), she was weaving the experience as it happened to me.
Ecstasy, excitement, joy, love, awe, bliss, all things I felt within those magical few hours. A few other feelings would creep in from time to time, such as terror, pain, or a strange flare of resentment, but they blended with the others to somehow retain their potency. The terror, pain and resentment only brought me further comprehension, more of a grasp of the depth of all the other amazing things I was feeling.
There was a sensual aspect to it as well of course. Oh was there.
We were finished-or at least I was (I couldn’t tell for her, but it wouldn’t shock me if she was willing to go even further), a few hours later (the clock read well past 4am). And I collapsed into sleep.
I awoke, to the sensation of arms being released from around me. A warmth I had felt being dashed. The woman next to me was getting up.
I flittered my eyes open, looking at the wallpaper I could now register as pink with faint green inline. Cute.
The night’s events slowly started to come back to me. And I was laying there practically in shock.
I’d had my fair share of sex before at that point. With women and men (though I have sworn off doing the latter after high school). But never had it been anything like that. Not with the most inexperienced or experienced.
Eventually, I raised myself up a bit, looking over towards the other woman. She had stood, yet to put anything on just yet, and was looking at her in a large mirror. The view was practically radiant. And I simply laid there in awe for a long moment, before steeling myself more quickly this time. But still. The way the sunlight through the window, the only light in the room, washed over her…
“…Good morning” I said aloud.
“Good morning!” Was her return. A soft smile forming in the mirror towards me. She seemed to be fixing her hair. I did spot something odd in the mirror. On her cheeks, faint streaks of purple…almost glitter, could be seen. A few other colors as well. Greens and pinks. I frowned.
“Are you alright? Your face-“
When I next looked, it was gone.
“-Is just too beautiful. I might die right here-” I saved myself.
She turned around, maintaining the smile. Staring at me for a long moment. Before breaking the silence.
“I can have that affect on people like you. You’re a lucky little thing” A teasing inflection.
“-People like me? What’s that supposed to mean?” I was pretty sure I knew, as I crossed my arms, only half serious in my ire.
“People with lifespans” She said this, unblinking.
I was left with the same question I had just asked. My dumbfounded expression likely painting a good picture for her.
“…What’s the word” She continued. “-Humans! Yes! I have that effect on many humans.”
I continued to be silent, and she followed suit, though a smile still clung to her face as I looked more bewildered then anything.
“Are you…trying to say…you aren’t human?” The thought burned through my head. Confusion abuzz within my own mind.
She blinked once. Then laughed aloud.
“Yes! Yes I presumed you had figured that out. Humans don’t attract you this much, do they? And I KNOW humans aren’t that good at sex.” She said with a ravishing smile still clinging to her. Despite the insanity of it, I let me own smile form.
“O-k. You’re like an alien or something? Like Lunarialaia?” I said, cupping my chin in my hands.
“Goodness no. Well. Not in that way at least. Someone of my sort would never be seen so openly. And we’re not from outer space. Though I doubt that’s where she really comes from.”
That was. A lot to unpack, I remembered how I felt quite vividly. Confused. But…oddly excited. Apart of me didn’t believe her of course, but-
“…Then…what are you?” An eerie part of my entertained the notion, enough to put the question fully forward.
“A fae. I serve in the court of Olympia. But as you can see, I get out from time to time.” She sounded dead serious. Because she was.
“…Like. A fairy? Where are your wings?” It was a poor joke, but she laughed all the same, before giving me a settled look.
“I could give myself wings, if I wanted. But I think you like this form better.” She said with a knowing look towards me. She was of course, right.
“…So what now, you going to take something in exchange for giving me the time of my life?” I said, almost teasingly. Though I was trying to take this all seriously, it was still slightly hard to believe that the girl I had hooked up with was some kind of weird fairy.
A low giggle escaped her lips. “No. That won’t be necessary. You’ve given me everything I could want in exchange for something like sex.” She had started to pull on her outfit again. But she was taking it slow.
Like so many other things she’d said, this gave me pause. What had I given her? “What…did I…” Dread passed over me.
She looked over and smiled. “Nothing bad, I didn’t take your name or anything, though you should still be careful with that. You simply reaffirmed my glamour. Your conviction that I had to be who I was for your own primal benefit made it so that no one will be piercing this particular guise anytime soon. A more then ample payment for one night of fun.”
This was crazy. What was happening? Glamour? Fae? I had to still be drunk.
I clearly lapsed into silence, because by the time I mustered up any further words, she was moving for the door, fully clothed again. She looked to turn to me, speaking something, when I cut her off.
“Wait-Could I uh. Have a phone number or something? Call you again?” I stammered out.
She paused. Confused. “I don’t have phones where I come from-“
“Then could I at least ha-know your name?” I corrected myself halfway through.
Th confusion grew. “Are you sure?” She suddenly looked oddly concerned. Though a level of amusement was still sprinkled atop it all.
I frowned. “I don’t have to…own it, obviously, that feels like it’s important. But I just want to know. I’ll even let you know mine. A trade? Knowledge for knowledge?”
“One of these things is far more valuable then the others. Besides, knowing my name will only bring you pain.”
“…What do you mean?”
“You want to call me? Speak my name, and you can. Whenever, wherever. I’ll come. And I’ll tempt you, offer everything you could possibly want. Because I can do everything you could possibly want. But every single little thing will come at a price. And they won’t always be as easy as a bit of thought and belief.” With each word she spoke, she took another step towards me, body swaying with the rhythm of unearthly grace and poise, eventually planting her finger on my chin, raising my eyes to meet hers. “Are you sure you’d want that?” Can you live with that type of temptation? Not many can.”
I should have considered it for longer. Thought about ramifications. But in my state, then still unclothed, vulnerable as I’d ever been and staring into the eyes of what I thought was the most radiant creature to ever live, I thought I wouldn’t get another chance. I nodded.
“Please. I want it. Tell me.”
“The our bargain is sealed. You can call me Hermes.”
“Andrea.” I said in response, as she was halfway through opening the door, and shutting it behind her. The last expression I saw in our meeting them was a sad looking smile, before the door shut.
I got dressed, and then left soon after, and the hotels halls were empty. No one staring at me as I walked through the silence. When I left the building, I had a sinking feeling I’d never go back. And in the following weeks, when I went by, to try and find it, I was proven right when it was gone without a trace.
My encounter with Hermes receded in my mind for quite awhile, as I got used to a better life.
The next time I met Hermes was in 1975. I had been forced to leave Detroit and it’s wonderful nightlife behind because of being fired from my then job after I rather vitriolically turned down the advances of one of my coworkers. Though I may have lost employment over it, I rarely could bring myself to regret calling him a snot nosed bloated tangerine.
I couldn’t find a job fast enough, so I ended up having to move to a smaller town in the same state, named Stillwater. It’s population was only as small as it’s employment opportunities, but at the very least, the price of living was much better. I was working in the town’s only hospital at the time. It was a terrible place. Peeling wallpaper, the yells and screams of patients we could or couldn’t treat. My job was just to take things between wards. It was a gloomy thing. But it paid my bills. And they were willing to hire me without asking too many questions about my life, my family, or anything.
I met Hermes again on the day that all changed. I slumped against a wall in a supply closet. My energy gone, despite the fact that it was only one in the afternoon. I stared ahead, at a semi reflective segment of shelving, facing the door.
I had just gotten informed by the man in charge of my ward that I was being let go. Apparently, a nasty rumor had been spread by someone that I engaged in sexual perversion, and the heads at the hospital, a place devoted to God and all his teachings, weren’t having any of it. I knew exactly who had started the rumors, as well. Once again, it was a man I had turned down, though I had done this one more gently. Apparently that still hadn’t helped. I had trusted him, too. I shouldn’t have told him why, even if he had sworn up and down that he’d keep it a secret. He’d seemed sweet, too.
I let out a shuddered laugh to no one. Once again, my future was robbed from me. I just wanted a stable life of peace. Why couldn’t I have had that? It would always just slip outside of my control.
It came to me as I was staring into the metal. I was thinking of all the reasons to maybe muster up my savings to head back to Detroit, when an old fling came to my head. Of a woman who claimed she was a fae.
It was stupid, really. I felt like a child. I stared into my own eyes, and spoke the name.
“Hermes. Why don’t you come help me out.”
A long thirty seconds passed, and I let out another laugh. God. I really was delusional.
Then there was a knock on the closet door, and I jumped. I quickly got to my feed, cleared my face of tears, and walked to the door. I opened it, and saw the person I least wanted to see. Dr. Jenson. The man who had gotten me fired. I tried my best to not sock him.
“So-sorry doctor. I thought I had left some-“
He put his hand below my slouched chin. Raising my face. I was raising my other fist for a right hook, when he spoke.
“Aren’t you the prettiest little thing. You haven’t aged a day.”
The voice, the tone, everything about it was different. But I recognized it all the same. I lowered my fist, and stared into the brown eyes of Hermes.
“…Is…it really you?”
“Not in the flesh. But yes. It’s me. I grabbed the human with the strongest connection to you, and it was this fellow. Is he your lover?”
I gagged. “God no-“
“Gods.” He corrected. I gave him a weird look.
“…No. He isn’t. He just cost me my job.”
He sighed. “Ah, I see.”
We stared at each other in silence a few moments, before I stepped inside the closet a bit further. He entered behind me, and shut the door.
More silence.
Then I spoke.
“I want to make a deal. Please. Can you fix this?” I gestured to the walls around me.
“If you mean get you your job back, yes, easily.” He said, calmly. “But are you sure? It’s an awfully shallow thing to deal with a fae for. You could just torture this man instead.”
“…I’d…rather not.” I said, unnerved slightly.
“Hm. I could get you more, you know. Back to that big city I know you like so much.”
“How did you-“
“I can see this man’s memories as long as I’ve overlaid into his body. If I wasn’t dealing with you, I’d deal with him. He’d give just about anything to see you how I’ve seen you.”
I made a face. “Can…you not.”
“What will you give me?”
“Excuse me?”
“What will you give me to not deal with this man once we’re done?” A wide, unnerving smile took up Jenson’s face.
My heart began to pound in my chest. I took a step back, looking scared. This was a mistake. And I hadn’t even given it a second thought.
“I want to be able to go back to Detroit. And afford it, with good employment. I want you to make sure Dr. Jenson never thinks about me like that again. And I…” I paused.
“And…?” He said, eager.
“…I want you. Again. Not like this, though.” A craving I didn’t know I had sprung through me. As if the longer I talked with Hermes, more memories of that night a few years ago crept through my very being.
He smiled a wide grin. Too wide. It almost made me shudder again.
“Aren’t you a wishful sort? I’ll do that, for certain. I think I can find you again, though it’ll be when I choose, not for you to. Your other demands are easy enough. As for the price…I notice you didn’t name one, so I will instead. I want your gaze. I want you to look at me.”
I looked confused.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s as simple as it sounds. I want to have your gaze. For as long as we are together.”
It sounded too easy. But then again, but that point, I was convinced that Hermes must like me. I made my second mistake. I nodded my head. “Sure.”
The fairy tales always tell you deals like these are sealed with a handshake. All I had to do was accept it in my heart. I felt fuzzy for a moment, like I was being wrapped in something warm, but it faded after a moment. Hermes smiled. “A pleasure as always, Andrea. I’ll see you sometime soon.” He turned, and left the room.
I wouldn’t see another face for a year and a half.
It was late in 1976 when I saw Hermes again. And at the time, it was one of the largest reliefs I’d had in my life.
After I last saw him, unfortunate events had transpired. Dr. Jenson died in an accident less then a day later, a tree falling from him as he was walking in his backyard. I was walking by his house at the time, and rushed to call the ambulance, catching a sickening glimpse of his crushed form in the process. That say day, as it had turned out, he had amended his personal will, leaving his property, and funds, to myself. This was suspicious, but the police investigation of it didn’t turn up anything. I sold his house, the man lived alone, and got out of Stillwater.
I moved back to Detroit at first. But it didn’t last. No one hired me. Both because of my connection to such a mysterious case, and because no matter what I did, I couldn’t seem to look at anyone I met. Only seeing faces in a blur of vision or in my peripheral. My gaze only belonged to one after all.
I lived in Detroit for but three more months. Before deciding to leave. Both because things were getting bad in the city-too many people coming to try and face the woman from the stars in her home turf, and because I couldn’t stand being both so close yet so far from my ideal life. Something that had seemingly been robbed from m, with no one but myself and a fairy to blame.
I moved further from home this time. Out West. I sent my parents a letter with my new address, and settled into living in an even smaller coastal town named Rallick, in California. I woke up every morning to the sound of seagulls and the waves. It was practically paradise. No one knew me there. I got a bookkeeping job for a local library, no one there minding my odd ticks (I heard them whispering behind my back about how bad they felt for me, being “Damaged” in that way). I used the money I still had from Jnson to make up for the meager pay I got there.
Not to mention that I wasn’t all that far from the bigger cities. Some weekends, I’d drive out, just to visit the various nightlives there. People were just so much more…accepting, in this part of the country. Far cry from what it should be, but it was more breathable. I met plenty of girls, played around with plenty of girls, but I never could stick anything for longer then a couple of weeks. Except with her.
She was from out east, like me. Indiana. She’d gotten lucky with a death too, an uncle who hadn’t known she was the type of girl to floor the Prom King after he got handsy. She’d moved out here, and lived in the big city.
Her name used to be Hazel. And she was the second most perfect thing I’d met. And since the perfect creature in the universe had forsaken me, she was more the enough. She’d whisper me good mornings and good night whenever we slept over and around each other. She didn’t mind that I’d never seen her face, not fully. And she didn’t pity me either. She told me we’d get through it. Fix things. I told her about Hermes, everything but the accursed name. And she seemed to believe me. Soothed me about it. For the first time, in a long time, I felt better. And felt better for six long months.
It was a cool Sunday night, at the end of autumn. I was sitting in bed alone, reading a book with a title I’ve long since forgotten, when I heard the sound of my front door opening. On edge, I creeped towards the front room of my house. I didn’t have anything to defend myself with, so I just grabbed my heaviest book from the shelf (a dictionary) on my way. Raising it ever slightly, as I turned the corner.
I saw the shape of a person, clad in a dirty dress. I almost looked at more of her figure, as hard as it was to make out in the dark, but something else caught my eye first. Or rather eyes.
I could meet this person’s eyes. Her radiant, brown eyes which glittered in the dark.
“…Hermes.”
“I still owe you.” She said. Distinctly female this time. Her voice sounded oh so familiar.
“…Do you know-“
“How much you’ve suffered? I know. I would never try to hurt you like that. I thought you knew. Let’s talk…” She trailed off, as if to finish a thought. I waited.
“But can I repay my end of the bargain first?” She spread her arms. I smiled brightly, even in the dark. Hazel couldn’t be further from my mind. The notion of being able to make eye contact was a relief in ways I couldn’t describe. And when the most beautiful creature in the universe stands befoe you…
You find it hard to say no. How ironic, how quick months of love can leave you.
It was just as amazing as it had been all those years ago. No light, save for the waxing moon covered by the clouds, and those brown eyes. The feels of emotional pleasure swirling around me just as much as my physical sensations erupted with each motion by us both. It lasted hours, with myself putting much more effort to reciprocate this time around, to seemingly some effect, based on the sounds I could make out in my ringing ears. Eventually, I passed out. Perhaps from exertion. Perhaps from momentary satisfaction.
When I next awoke, I was groggy, as I looked out my window with hazy vision. The early morning sun having awoken me, a sunrise over the sea, normally a welcome sight. I smiled a little to myself, as the night came back to me. Perhaps Hermes was still asleep. That would be a nice thing to see.
I propped myself up, and saw that there was indeed someone wrapped in the covers in front of me. I decided to pull the covers back slightly, to see the face of Hermes’s glamour.
I was met with the face of a beautiful young woman. Perfect caramel skin, bobbed and partially braided black hair, though it had been tousled a little. Her entire face was straight, with the only imperfection being a small scar below her lower lip.
Her looks were fitting of the most beautiful creature in the universe to wear. The disturbing part, however, was that this woman was dead. Blood poured from her ears. A mixture of dried red and pink stained the bedsheets. Unliving eyes, a faded hazel instead of brown.
With horror, I looked at the rest of he. A tattered and familiar blue dress. A body shape which could allure me a thousand times. Hands which had caressed my hair. And fit into mine. Feet which moved with the grace of a dancer.
Fitting of the second most beautiful creature in the universe.
I stared at Hazel’s corpse for a long, long time. Enough for the sun to rise into the sky. Then I whispered the name.
“Hermes-” I croacked out.
This time, they did not come physically. Instead, a living wind which swirled around me. Whispering in my ears.
“How can I help, Andrea?” They said, as if nothing was wrong.
“…What happened.” I said, sounding like death.
“Ah. Well. I needed a body to visit you with. My current physical form is tied up, so I couldn’t come in glamour like I did before. Thankfully, this young woman agreed to trade me her name, and her body for a night. Though it seems like her poor little head just couldn’t quite take what you and I were giving each other. Though it did fulfill our bargain quite nicely.”
“Wh-What bargain?” My voice shook like an earthquake.
“She offered what I mentioned. In exchange for her girlfriend, a lovely little thing with your name, to be able to see her face. Just the sweetest little wish.”
I looked in horror upon Hazel’s face. Her empty, lifeless, face. I went silent for long moments again.
“Fix it.” I finally said, after minutes of nothing.
“Excuse me?” said the wind and the nothing.
“Fix it. You can fix it, right, what do I have to give?”
“Oh! Yes, of course, another deal. I’ll fix this situation. Make sure you see no consequences. Make things as they were. All I’ll need…is your touch. I want it for myself. Whenever I should so choose.” Their voice was like stone, despite it’s current arid form. Impossible to read the excitement I now know was barely contained within.
In my turmoil and grief, I made my third mistake. “FINE! Just take it. Please. Fix it.”
Once more, I accepted the deal into my heart. Once more, the fuzzy feeling.
I once more stared at the corpse. The corpse which, to me, lacked a name. I shrieked.
A mere six months, until I saw Hermes again. The start of Summer, 1977.
Not that I could particularly tell the season, with how far north I was. After being implicated in my second murder, the second murder caused by Hermes, no less, I started to despair once more. Even if this one lacked the same identity that the other had, I still felt an unplaceable sorrow. I tried to fall back into my old life as the investigation continued to conveniently turn up other suspects away from myself, back to the big cities and their sapphics that used to be like me. But without a touch or a gaze to give, without anyone like the woman I’d found dead in my own bed, I found nothing there waiting for me. So I sold the home I’d made, and moved away again, the moment I was cleared of the crime. I tried to as the young woman’s name when I left, but it never seemed to stick in my memory. And as I moved, it was like I’d never known at all.
Another small town was my destination. Alaska. Sitka was bigger then Rallick, but smaller then Stillwater, an old mining town that grew bigger over the years. Big enough that a newcomer wouldn’t get picked apart, but small enough that I could still build an odd reputation.
I was more alone then I had ever been. Nothing but pleasant memories and regrets to keep me company. I tried to make friends, to little success. I didn’t even have a job anymore, coasting off of money I’d accumulated over these five years or so.
I had taken to long walks outside of town, in the woods. I had been warned about bears of course, but I was lucky enough to never run across one. It was on these that I shed the most tears, laughed my most laughs, and had my deepest contemplations. I was convinced that I had gone insane. How could I not? I had lost but two things, and I was an inhuman freak. Two people were dead, because of me. The guilt of that was most prevalent. But I was equally disturbed being unable to remember the second. WHY she was important. Why she made my still human heart spin with anguish.
It was during one of those moments, wracking my mind for any memory of the woman in the tattered dress, when he found me.
I had seen him in town a few times. I guess I hadn’t paid attention to how close he had been watching me. And how often I’d seen him, in just a few days. Probably because he was the unassuming sort. He couldn’t have looked out of place at a lumberyard, he was only a bit of muscle short of a full on lumberjack. He was a scruffy blonde, with an unkempt beard and hair, based on what little of his face I could see. He wore a fur cap, and other clothing that seemed unassuming, but I realized a bit too late, that it was just a few too many layers. I had been too lost in thought to notice he’d followed my footprints. Too busy lamenting to see the knife being drawn.
The knife lodged in my arm. Tearing through my jacket. Blood fell to the snow, and I almost fell with it, but I instead managed to break into a run. Stupid, in hindsight. The second knife cut the side of my throat. That one sent me the ground. Blood pouring into the snow now. I scrambled, with a surge of adrenaline…and hit a tree. Laid down on my side, I looked up hazily, seeing the man approach. No more knives. Two items instead. A spear, tipped with some kind of strange crude looking metal. And a smooth metal pistol in the other.
I was loosing blood fast. So I was barely able to make out what he said to me as he stood over me.
“…I feel bad for you.”
I didn’t reply. I couldn’t even muster a glare. Why was he attacking me? Some kind of serial killer?
“…What did the fey take from you? I know whatever it was, the townspeople here think you’re a freak.”
I tried to say something. But I was only met with a strange gurgle, as blood fell from my mouth.
His look was a mix of disgust and pity.
“Say your masters name. That’ll bring them here, right? Do that, and I’ll put you out of your misery.” He said, raising the gun to point at my head. “I don’t want to see you suffer any more. I’ve seen enough of that.”
I wanted him to see me suffer. Just to make him suffer. I was angry. But also…almost relieved that this might just be it. I gugrled out a single word, for the fourth time.
“Hermes-“
The sound of a gunshot roared through the air. I squeezed my eyes shut.
But there wasn’t anymore pain. But I wasn’t dead either.
I felt less dizzy. I managed to open my eyes, slowly. The world was frozen around me. A small metal cylinder, a bullet I presumed, sat a few inches from my face. The man with the spear had his hand firmly on the gun, as he prepared to see me die. Behind him, a familiar figure. Hermes. In the same shape as the day I had met her in the lodge. She smiled at me. As I looked at her face. A gaze long missed.
“Help me-” I managed to say, weakly.
“And what will yo-” She started to say
“Anything-” I cut her off, replying.
“Anything?”
“Anything.” I said.
“I want your joy. Your love. Every bit of it, all for me. Reserved for me. Every tiny facet of happiness.” She gave her penultimate offer to me.
And in the pain I felt, and in the desperation I felt, unlike any other, watching a bullet a few inches from my head, said a simple-
“Yes! Please!”
Time started to move again. No bullet connected with me. Instead, a faint whizzing sound. Puncturing of flesh that was not mine. A bullet to the heart should have knocked him to the ground. But he stood up, still, blood falling to the snow, further staining it red, as he came to me…and met my gaze with radiant brown eyes. He lifted my chin, ignoring the blood that continued to flow from my neck, and pressed his lips to mine.
I ignored the blood that flowed from two mortal wounds during this contact. I ignored the hatred of being kissed by a man. And I let Hermes do as he wished. As I felt joy, true happiness flow thorough me. The kindling of love roaring into a bonfire for those long moments of contact. When he released, our lips stained crimson , he smiled at me. And I felt my wounds were gone.
“Who was…” I said, breaking one of our many silences. Looking to the body Hermes was using.
“This? A monster hunter. Let me-“ He rummaged around in his pockets. Seemingly looking for something specific. Eventually finding a strange silver token with inscriptions along it’s edge. . “Ah, yes, Wheel. They’re annoying. He even brought cold iron and everything.” He said, looking over, to the spear. in the snow. “They were probably -no, definitely, using you to get to me. One of their elders, not this fellow, sniffed out our bond, probably. And where there’s one, there’s generally…a lot more.”
I noted the uncertainty in his voice. But the fear still set in. Robbing me of the joy I felt so entitled to. My face went pale.
“I need to…get out of-“
“I’d move continents, yes. You have the money, I’m sure. It’ll take them a few days to find this one. More then enough time! If you get caught again, just call, Andrea.”
He smiled. And before I could say anything more then the starts of “I love you”, the corpse became what it should. The man’s body bleeding into the snow. The third and final death on my human hands.
I only lasted another week. On July 2nd, 1977, I said Hermes’s name for the last time with my lips. I had gone to the Anchorage airport. A flight booked for somewhere in Nepal.
My misery caught up to me as I walked across the open floor, to where I would wait for my flight. There wasn’t a single scrap of joy in the memories I was given no choice but to wallow in. No other people had spoken to me for longer then a minute in months, maybe years. All I had was sorrow, suffering, paranoia, guilt, hatred. It was torture. And I couldn’t take it any longer. Three peoples corpses in my head.
I fell to my knees. Screaming, out into the world, the name. My voice filled with anguish, and a motley of emotions that were devoid of happiness.
“HERMES!“
And there they were. Appearing, in all of their glory, for me and everyone in the airport to see. Finally, a form true to themselves. Instead of glamour or the stolen forms, it was truly them.
They were easily eight feet tall. A mix of masculine and feminine features. Muscular and broad shoulders, with curved thighs and waist. Breasts, but not large enough to draw ones entire gaze. Their chest was nearby bare, save for a small golden sash which covered the aforementioned feature. A similar one covered whatever laid between their legs. Their entire body was covered in layers of purple, pink green and a bit of blue, as if painted on with sparkling glittering paint. Around their feet were strange butterfly winged boots, and in their hands was a strange rod with coiled snakes around its’s side. The snakes themselves seemed alive, coiling and shifting, eyes settling on me. Golden scales glittering in the light of the airports overheads.
Their face, however, was most striking. All six of their eyes looked down at me. The same brown color I’d grown accustomed to. Their mouth was fanged, and smiled wide at me. Every facial feature was uneven, yet perfect at the same time. Their hair, an iridescent mass of color, hung down to their shoulders.
I looked at them in awe. Before they tilted their head and spoke. In this form, their voice was a song, and I never wanted to stop listening. Their very presence reigniting everything happy and joyous within me.
“Yes, pretty thing?”
A delusional part of me was happy I was no longer little.
“…Make it stop. Please. Forever. I don’t want to feel without you again. Please. I’ll give ypu whatever you want. Please. Please PLEASE!”
A small crowd had formed by now. But me and Hermes didn’t mind them a bit. I would learn later that they never remembered this brief exchange.
They craned their head slightly.
“A peculiar request. But I’m happy to oblige. I just need one thing in exchange.”
“Yes?” I said, desperation very plain on myself.
“Your human body. “ They smiled.
I tilted my head up towards the ceiling and laughed, long and hard. Before turning my gaze back to Hermes, tears streaming down my face. Tears of joy, as I looked upon my one true love.
“I would rather give you nothing else.”
That was the last moment I spent on earth.
And now, as I gaze upon the realm of Olympia and the Fae for every waking moment, I smile. For Hermes is never out of reach. I am theirs. And in some small way, they are mine as well. I am the only one ever treated this way. Or that will likely ever be treated this way. None of the other Sovereigns on Olympia ever have creatures like me with them. Fae that were once human. I assume, at least, that I was once human. I still have my name, after all. Andrea. Even if it’s meaning is long lost to me. I remember my days of being human. I can remember the feelings that I felt, but not feel them, I do not have that body any longer. That, like everything else, belongs to Hermes. What I have kept, what is not theirs, I would give in a heartbeat, and yet they do not ask. I do not know why.
Moment after moment, I exist here. Since that last moment on earth, I have done so much for Hermes.
I have killed for them. More from that Wheel,. Those who would try to bind them. Those who would try to hurt them. Those who would insult them. Platitudes compared to the mere three that my human body saw killed.
I have stolen for them. They always want more, from humans. And so I take from them. I am never as good at it as they are. Sometimes they let me keep what I take. And normally, I use it to help them more all the same.
I have shared my love with them. Undying love, that is extinguished when they are gone from me. When we are apart, I store it within myself, to return it in spades when they show themselves again.
This love is physical, with my body that can appeal to whatever they could possibly want. My days of feeling any kind of disgust to any form Hermes takes, human or no, are long gone. I would not dare consider the thought anymore. I cannot feel for anyone else. I cannot meet the gaze of anyone else. I cannot love anyone else. So it must be for them. My love is verbal. With every word I can possibly speak, being spoken, human or no. I shower them in these words, with the hope that they understand. I think they do. My love is mental. Unchecked within my newfound mind, able to be explored in boundless depths. Even if they will never see what lays within that particular scale, I cherish all the same.
My love is the hope that one day, they will return it to me. And show a small gesture of love in return. And they do. And each moment of that is enshrined within my very being. They must simply not have the same space for such things as I. I wouldn’t understand. I am not a Sovereign, with a gods name.
And any concern I have is washed away, looking at them in any form. Into one constant between them all.
Brown eyes. They enraptured me then, and they enraptured me now. It is as it should be. Must be.
I had a word to describe them one. Though it is gone to me now.
It was likely not important anyways,
Kindling And Miscellany 