Challenge of the Fairies

Challenge of the Fairies

“Here it is, that place you asked me,” the cab driver said and pulled over. He was pointing at the side of the street. Johan squinted his eyes, but all he could spot through the snowstorm was a yellow light in the distance.

“Danke,” he said in his bad German and paid the man. He clutched his coat tightly before getting off the cab.

As it drove away, Johan wondered if he should just go back. What was he even doing here? He left England with the pretext of going to see his grandparents, whom he barely even knew due to the great distance. This was his only his second visit in Germany. Frankly, his mother’s parents were merely strangers to him. There was no reason he’d suddenly decide to pay them a visit in his thirties.

“So cold… I guess January was a bad choice…” Johan mumbled to himself as he slowly dragged his feet through the snow-covered pavement. He just wanted a cup of hot tea, a pile of blankets and a lit fireplace to curl next too. Who cared about his stupid search? It was probably pointless anyway.

After what seemed like ages, he reached the tavern’s entrance. Loud music was playing inside. Laughter and the sound of glass against glass were audible even outside. Johan entered hurriedly, bringing fresh snow in with him. The place was crowded, so he made his way between occupied tables and found an empty stool by the bar.

For a while he was too busy, taking off his jacket, setting his bag on the floor and trying to warm up, that he didn’t realize that the bartender was talking to him. He was a tall, stocky, muscular man who seemed to barely fit in his shirt. He looked somewhere in his fifties, maybe sixties, with grayish hair and a thick beard. All in all, he was somewhat scary. Like a bear in human’s clothing.

Johan could only understand half of what he said, proof that his parents’ efforts to teach him German when he was still a schoolboy had gone to waste, but he understood the bartender was waiting for an order.

“Etwas… etwas warmes,” he said. He didn’t care what he got, if it could warm him up.

The bartender grinned and started talking on his own. Johan could tell that he was going to try some specialty or something. He patiently waited as the man poured wine, another red drink and then brought over various vases stuffed with spices at the bar and started mixing them.

Johan looked around and realized that the tavern was slowly emptying. Oddly enough, half of the tables, had already emptied out and waitresses were collecting dishes and glasses. Johan looked at his watch. Only ten’o clock? People sure go home early around here, even though it’s Saturday…

His attention turned to the bar as a glass was roughly placed before him. He took his time observing the peculiar drink. It had to be a local specialty; and a very loaded specialty at that. There was a slice of orange on the glass and a stick of cinnamon inside as well, more lemon was floating inside, soaked by the steaming red wine.

“Alles gut?” asked the bartender. “Trink!” he encouraged him with a smile. He said some more things, and as usual Johan could only get the basics. He definitely introduced himself as Olaf and also said something like, “Trust me, it’s good, drink up!”

Eventually, Johan took a sip. The lemon and the cinnamon had the strongest taste, but less than a minute had passed and he was already getting warmer. He gulped down the rest quickly and ordered a second. After the third glass, he decided to cut to the chase. He had come there to get some answers after all. The alcohol slowly erased any worries he had about speaking incorrectly and he could swear he even understood more from what the bartender said.

“How is the area around here?”

“Schiltach?” The bartender laughed. “It’s just a small town. There are houses, some shops. Nothing interesting really.”

“So… you haven’t heard any tales… stories… anything mysterious going on?”

“Mysterious…?” Olaf paused for a second, a wrinkle showing on his forehead. “I guess not. Or maybe… Well, it’s just some myth. About the Schwartzwald.”

Something clicked in Johan’s head. Schwartz meant black. Wald was forest. So, the Black Forest…? Had he heard the name before?

“Where is that?”

Olaf slammed his hands on the wooden bar. Johan flinched away, but the man started laughing loudly. The few people had were left in the tavern quieted and turned to stare at him. “Where’s the Schwartzwald, he says! The Schwartzwald! It’s all over the place, boy. Every single inch of woods you see around here, that’s where the Schwartzwald is.”

Johan stared down at the glass in his hands. He felt like he sounded very stupid just then. “And you’re saying that there is something curious about it?”

“Oh, there have been all sorts of stories about it. Children and hunters getting lost. Fires burning without anyone lighting them. Voices heard from its depths. Just looking at its direction at night can give you the creeps.”

“Voices, huh?” Johan gulped down what wine still remained in his glass.

“Another one?” Johan nodded. Olaf took the empty glass away from him. “Why are you even interested in that sort of thing? Are you a journalist? Because if that’s the case, I have to tell you a few years back someone else came and wrote for some newspaper about Schwartzwald.”

“No, no… it’s nothing like that. It’s for personal reasons.”

“A tourist’s curiosity?” The bartender grinned.

“You could call it that.” Or maybe not. I didn’t come here for tourism. Who in his right mind would come for tourism in this cold, God-forsaken place? If that hadn’t been his mother’s homeland, he would have never set his foot in this country, not now, not ever…

Soon after, a company of men who looked about Johan’s age entered the tavern. “Excuse me. I’ll be back,” the bartender said as he left Johan to take care of the company’s drinks. Johan felt somewhat dizzy from all the wine. He held his head and stared at the glass as his mind slipped away and he dove into old memories…

* * * * *

“I’m going to do some shopping. Be a good kid until I come back, okay? Don’t disturb Mom, alright?” was what Johan’s father had told him, before leaving in the morning. Johan had agreed, like the good kid he was. There was a part of the promise he made though that he couldn’t keep.

He carefully tiptoed up the stairs of the dark house and approached his parents’ bedroom. The door was tightly shut, as usual, but he mustered all his courage to go in. He might have promised, but it really was a good chance to see his mother. He rarely did so, even though they lived in the same house. She was always sick, always shut in that room. His father always said she needed some peace and quiet and that she might get better eventually.

Johan pushed down the handle and opened the door just a crack. The heavy, blue curtains hung shut in front of the windows, but a little sunlight got in, giving the room an ominous, indigo hue.

“Who’s there?!” the woman asked in a shaky voice. She always sounded like that. It’s because she rarely talks, Johan thought.

“It’s just me, Mom,” Johan said quietly and walked towards her.

Sabine sat in her rocking chair, with her feet curled up to her chest, wrapped in a blanket. Her face softened at the sight of her son, but her eyes looked tired and her face old. She had deep wrinkles scarring her face for as long as Johan could remember. None of his friends’ mothers looked like that.

“How are you feeling?” Johan asked and took her hand. It was a little colder than his, but he thought it was because she was sitting in there all day. “The weather’s so nice today, the sea is calm.”

“Is it, now?” Sabine asked absentmindedly. “That’s good. It’s not good when they get mad…”

“Mad? Nobody’s mad, Mom,” Johan reassured her. “Do you want me to show you what I drew at school the other day? The teacher said it was very good and gave me an A! She wanted to hang it in the classroom but I said no because I wanted to show it to you first!”

“Mmmh. Let me see then,” she agreed.

Her son’s face lit up and he ran out of the room. He noticed her flinching when he walked in, but she forced a smile on her face. He gave her the drawing and stood there proudly, waiting for her appraisal.

“It’s a really good drawing,” she said eventually and ruffled his hair gently.

“Really?”

She nodded. “I like the sunglasses that the sun is wearing.”

Johan was smiling from ear to ear. “I got the idea from a fairytale our teacher told us!”

“What fairytale?” Sabine straightened  up in her chair and Johan sat cross-legged on the carpet opposite her.

“Well, it is a long one, but I can tell you if you like.” He smiled at her expectantly.

“Please do.”

Johan cleared his throat like grown-ups did, put on a serious face and began. “It is a tale about the Sun, who was feeling lonely after being on his own watching everyone from afar for so many years. So, he called his friend, the Moon, to stand in his place, put on a hat to hide his golden hair and a pair of dark glasses to hide his eyes and he went down to earth to look for a bride to keep him company.

“He searched and searched, but all the girls he met couldn’t stand him for too long because he was too warm to say next to. In the meantime, the world had only night with the Moon keeping watch, and humans were beginning to get annoyed, so time was pressing the Sun to hurry and find his bride.

“When he was about to give up, he stopped under the shade of a big tree to rest and he fell asleep below it. He woke up from a beautiful voice and saw a dark-haired woman dancing nearby. He realized this was the one he was looking for. He kissed her and her hair turned gold and so it was decided that she would be the Sun’s bride and then they both went up to the sky together.

“That’s it,” he said happily. “So, what did you think?”

Sabine nodded absentmindedly. “Hmmm, it was a nice story.”

“Our teacher also said that some people say that the Sun’s bride in the story used to be the Queen of the Fairies before she married him.”

Sabine’s posture changed immediately. The room wasn’t very bright, but he could see his mother’s eyes growing wide and staring at the wall in terror. She jumped up, knocking her chair down violently. Johan instinctively crawled back, taken aback by her reaction. She started going up and down the room restlessly, mumbling gibberish, half in German, half in English.

“They might know… they mind find us… we mustn’t go in the woods. They’re watching… always watching!” She took a sharp turn and stopped in front of the curtains. “They’ll know… they know everything!” Without a warning, she turned to Johan and grabbed him by the shoulders, staring at him like she didn’t recognize him. “Did you tell them, boy? Did they hear you?! You were in the woods, weren’t you?!”

“Mom, it’s me, Johan! What are you talking about?”

She shook him again, repeating the same questions.

“You’re hurting me, Mom, let me go! It’s just me! Everything’s fine!”

Sabine let him go and approached the windows again, holding her head and saying something Johan couldn’t understand.

“Johan? What is going on?” Suddenly his father was there, his eyes going back and forth between his wife and son. “Get out. It’s okay, I’ll help Mom. Just go downstairs and be quiet.”

“But I… I don’t know what I did wrong…” Johan muttered, looking at his father blankly.

“It’s not your fault. Just get out of the room,” he repeated before turning to Sabine, who was talking on her own, ignoring both of them in her terror…

* * * * *

His mother’s panic attacks had gotten worse ever since. They called for doctors. They moved as far away as they could from the woods so she wouldn’t think about it. Everyone had one thing to say: Sabine Miller was sick in the head. They just gave her some pills and hoped each day would go by as quietly as possible.

Johan stopped talking to her about fairytales, fairies and trees. These things seemed to set her off more often than other conversations. She was constantly distressed… until the last time he saw her. Because Sabine Miller vanished one day. She has been in the missing persons’ list for more than thirteen years. Even his father thought that she must be gone by now.

But Johan was stubborn. He couldn’t believe his mother was just a crazy person who vanished from the face of earth without an explanation. There had to be an answer.

“Ah, sorry, boy! Here, take another one,” Olaf said, placing another glass of spiced wine in front of him. “Things got busy all of a sudden, eh?” He laughed loudly and walked away to take care of more orders.

Johan sat quietly, pondering on his mother’s disappearance and sipping his drink, when someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around lazily, to see a short, thin man in a dark, cloak-like coat on his shoulders.

“Mind if I sit with you?” he asked, grinning deviously and showing his bad teeth.

Johan wasn’t sure if he wanted to be near him, but he simply shrugged. What would he do anyway? The man let out a small cackle and climbed – with a little difficulty – on the stool next to him. He reached on his own on the other side of the bar, took hold of a bottle of rum and a glass and poured himself. Johan’s eyes widened in surprise but the small man waved at the bartender, so Johan said nothing. He took another sip of his own drink in silence.

“So, heh, heh, you’re a new face, heh. What brings you here, heh?”

“Just passing through.” What’s this? Do strangers just talk to anyone and go asking questions here?

“Heh, heh, oh, I see, I see. You’re here for the Schwartzwald, aren’t you? Heh.”

That last thing got Johan’s attention. It was the same forest the bartender had told him about. He straightened up and felt the urge to ask more, but he tried not to let it show on his face. “Schwartzwhat? What is that?”

“Heh, heh, but you know already, don’t you? Why are you asking me, heh?”

Johan didn’t see that coming. How did he know? “They might know. They always know,” his mother’s words echoed in his head.

“I know a lot. Olaf is a blabbermouth, heh,” he said pointing at the barman. “He likes telling by-passers spooky stories, heh, heh.” He drank the contents of his glass all at once and grinned. “You believe him, don’t you?”

“What? I… of course not. This is just some stupid gossip. There can’t be people going missing. The police would have done something.” I think so at least… he reasoned quietly.

“Heh, heh. You’re funny, Johan. I expected that. It’s only natural, with you being who you are, heh.”

Johan felt a chill running down his spine. How did that man know his name?

“I am Fred. It’s not proper using your name without telling you mine now, is it? Heh.” Fred gave Johan his hand, but Johan ignored him. Fred was creepy. Maybe Johan had had too many drinks and was imagining things. “So, you want to go to the Schwartzwald? I can take you there! I know it like the palm of my hand! Actually, I know it much better than my palm. Heh. They’ve been wanting to meet you Johan. They’ve known so much… they’re just waiting for you to go to the woods, heh. You’ve kept them waiting for too long, heh, heh.”

“I don’t understand,” Johan said. This sounded too much like the things his mother used to say. There’s no way this Fred guy knows all that; he’s making it up. Or it’s the booze getting to my head. “Who are they?”

“Ah, so you’ve been making new friends, huh?” The big bear of a bartender, Olaf, came out of nowhere, placing a heavy hand on Johan’s back.

“Eh, that’s not–” Johan started to say.

“Good, good. Fred is the best guy! I’ll let you two at it,” he said and, hooting, he walked away.

Johan’s last hope to get rid of crazy Fred, Olaf, left and Johan’s face fell in disappointment. He let out an audible sigh and pretended to be fascinated by something in the tavern’s decoration. Somehow, time managed to pass without Fred saying anything else to him. Eventually the small company of men left as well and the room was filled with an uncomfortable silence. Olaf was napping on a chair on the other side of the bar with his head leaning back and a single waitress was turning the chairs upside down, placing them on the tables to mop the floor. Fred poured himself another glass of rum.

“Uh… I think I should get going…” Johan murmured. He stood up from the stool and staggered, falling back against the bar. I think I had much more than I should… From the noise he made, Olaf woke up and came his way. A strong arm grabbed him and set him on his feet before he could realize out what was happening.

Olaf hooted loudly again. The sound left Johan’s head pounding. “O ho ho, looks like my specialty was a bit too strong for you, boy! Are you going?”

“Y-yes, pet me lay you… ugh, let… let me pay you,” he mumbled, trying to hide his embarrassed face and looking in his backpack for his wallet.

“Oh, forget it, just go. It’s on me,” Olaf said, patting him on the back so hard that he almost fell down again.

“No, no, I can’t let you,” Johan said, staring confused at his wallet, wondering which way the damn thing opened. It seemed too complicated to him at the moment.

“Hey, Johan, look up.” He couldn’t figure out whose voice he heard anymore. He looked at Fred. “You don’t look too well. Have a glass of water,” he said and handed him a glass. Without thinking, Johan drank it.

“It tastes funny,” he said and felt the glass slipping from his grip. The next events were a mess in Johan’s head. He remembered hearing glass break and the bear of a bartender taking the shape of an actual bear as he hooted loudly. He remembered Fred’s crazed glance as he knelt down to look at Johan. Then, darkness swallowed everything.

* * * * *

The cicadas’ song was making Johan’s ears buzz. It had been going on for a such long time… he couldn’t tell how long he was there, listening to it. He rolled on his side and felt something scratching his cheek. He opened his eyes slowly. Everything on his eye level was green. He found himself lying on the ground, tall grass rising all around him. He sat up hurriedly, worrying about what might be hiding in there.

“Ow… my head’s about to burst…” he murmured and placed his hands on the sides of his head, as if he had to keep it together. “Where is this place? Why isn’t there any snow…? There was a snowstorm last night…”

He took a few minutes to snap out of it and he stand up. The grass almost reached his knee. The sun was shining brightly and the cicadas suddenly seemed to be singing even louder than before. Little by little things started coming back to him. The tavern… The bear-like bartender… The creepy, short man… And the drinks… so, so many drinks. “No wonder I am having a hangover… But what am I looking at now? I’m probably still dreaming.”

“You’re not dreaming. This place is real,” he heard a childish voice call out in German. He turned around anxiously and saw a girl in a red summer dress sitting on a swing a few trees farther away.

Johan scratched his head in confusion. What is a swing doing in the forest? And what is a girl doing on the swing in the forest? “Where is this place exactly?”

“But it’s the Schwartzwald of course.”

“And why are you here? What’s your name?”

The girl flashed him a smile and hopped off the swing. “I’m Anna. Come play with me now. It was rather boring waiting for you to wake up.”

Johan didn’t have a chance to say anything because the girl took hold of his hand and pulled him around as she wished. As the day passed, he played with her all sorts of childish, nonsensical games that he had never heard of. He caught himself wondering why he didn’t take the girl and head for the town, leave her at the nearest police station and get away from that place. That thought somehow faded and was forgotten quickly though. He couldn’t recall what he was doing the night before, or how he had gotten to that town and why.

Night came eventually, wrapping the forest like a thick blanket. Everything was enveloped in darkness and Johan was having a hard time seeing up ahead as the girl lead him between the trees. “Shouldn’t you be heading home? It’s getting really dark,” Johan said eventually.

Anna turned around, flashing him her usual smile. “Silly, that’s when it starts becoming interesting. This is the most fun part of the game.”

Something about her words made Johan shiver, even though it was still very warm outside. “What do you mean?”

“The Challenge of the Fairies of course! Come with me, I’ll explain when we get there.”

Somehow, once she took hold of his hand, he couldn’t let go, even though he wanted to. They walked a long distance until abruptly, Anna stopped and sat on the ground, pulling Johan down with her. She crossed her feet and made herself comfortable as Johan looked nervously around. He was so on the edge that he was ready to take off at the slightest sign of danger.

“Why did we stop?” Johan asked, peeking over the bushes in front of them.

“Shhh, not yet! Get down!” Anna said and pulled him back. “Okay, let me tell you how it works. Tonight there’s a full moon, so the Fairies will come out to dance soon.”

“The Fairies…? Wha–”

“Listen, listen! So, the Challenge of the Fairies goes like this: You have to watch them dance all night, but they mustn’t see you. Then, near dawn, when they’ll stop, you have to reach their queen and you can have a wish of yours granted.”

“And… if you are seen?”

Anna smiled broadly. “Just make sure you don’t, okay?”

Johan didn’t like the sound of that. He ducked as far down as he could, trying to sneak peeks through the gaps between the bushes’ branches. It was going to be a long night. How would they even last all night long, watching those fairies, even if they made an appearance? They had been running around the forest all day! Even if he could last, there was no chance Anna would. She is a child. She’ll be asleep before midnight, Johan thought.

Time passed and nobody appeared. Johan started thinking that this was all just part of what Anna’s childish mind had fabricated. Do I have to play along and pretend to see them already? he wondered.

“Oh, there they are!” Anna whispered and pulled his sleeve.

Johan couldn’t believe his eyes. Indeed, dark figures were beginning to gather in the clearing, carrying things. He heard logs being piled one on top of the other and stones being scrapped one against the other. The crackling of the fire came next as it devoured the wood greedily. Music started playing as more figures crowded the clearing. Anna was moving her head rhythmically from side to side, humming to herself as the figures began to dance.

All of Johan’s worries about how they were going to keep themselves from falling asleep evaporated. There was no way one could sleep while watching such a sight. The way they moved, the vibrant music… it was all too fascinating.

“We shouldn’t go in the woods… They’ll know… they always know…” The words rang as a warning bell in Johan’s head. Why though? Who had said them? He could not remember. Well, it didn’t matter anyway. He’d remember whose they were if they were important.

As the time passed, Johan’s fear of the dancers melted away. At first he sat up, looking at them over the bushes… Later he got on his knees and crawled closer… Eventually he rose and went to stand a breath away from the clearing. These are fairies indeed, he mused as he looked at them up closer. Their skin had a pale green hue and their ears’ pointed tips showed through their silky, dark hair.

When the circle came to a halt and the music stopped, Johan was left gazing at them in a daze. His thoughts were hazy and unruly. He saw a man unlike the fairies approaching him; he wore a dark cloak and his eyes gleamed wildly. His name Is Fred, he thought, but that was the only thing he remembered of him.

Fred placed an arm on Johan’s shoulder. “I knew you’d come, heh, heh! They wanted to meet you after all! Heh!”

Johan nodded absentmindedly. The fairies wanted to meet me? Of course. I can have a wish granted after all, can’t I?

“Looks like you were caught, heh. You’re supposed to hide until they’re all done dancing, heh, heh.” His cackle echoed through the clearing, pulling Johan violently out of the trance he had fallen into.

“Wh– what are you talking about? You’re all done, right? I can get to your queen now!” Johan said in a trembling voice.

Fred cackled again. “But you weren’t hiding, were you? The challenge just doesn’t work like this. Heh, heh. Good luck, friend,” he said, patted Johan’s shoulder one more time before withdrawing, vanishing behind the other fairies.

“Did you tell them, boy? Did they hear you?! You were in the woods, weren’t you?!”

I suppose I was, Mom… I’m sorry. They heard me. They even saw me. I’m sorry… I guess you were right. They know. They always know. They might have been watching all along. And I was stupid, oh, so, so stupid!

The fairies were around him, closing in. Their eyes were pitch black and shining in the moonlight, their grins felt threatening as they bared their pointed teeth.

I suppose this is it. I was caught. This was Johan’s last thought before darkness swallowed him.

* * * * *

It was freezing cold. So this is how it feels to be dead. I suppose it’s not much different than that wretched place where Mom grew up…

Johan curled his body, bringing his knees to his chin. Something cold touched his lips. Snow. He opened his eyes and saw he was almost buried beneath it.

Is it snowing in the afterlife too?!

Surprised, he stood up and started shaking the snow off his clothes and hair. “S-s-so cold…” he said and clutched his teeth. He seemed to have lost his coat and scarf somehow. “I shouldn’t hope to find them again either…” he mumbled to himself.

Johan stood there, wondering what he was supposed to do. Am I just going to linger here? If I’m dead, isn’t there someone who should take care of people like me? Like, an angel, or a devil… someone to take me to where I’m supposed to be? I can’t really die from the cold anymore, but it is unpleasant. Maybe I should look for shelter someplace...

The snapping of a twig made him turn around so fast that he fell back in the snow. Someone was standing behind him, wrapped in thick clothes from head to toe. He squinted his eyes, trying to make out the details of the approaching person. His mind tried to process what he was seeing. A face scarred with wrinkles… a pair of wide, blue eyes.

For a second he couldn’t even breathe. Eventually, he smiled.

“I knew you had to be somewhere, Mom.”

Author’s Note: I’m sorry for the German at the beginning, it was used to create the appropriate mood. Hope I didn’t give anyone difficulties, I tried to write them in such a way that it wouldn’t really matter if you could understand what they were saying in German or not. Now what happened at the end really? Did Johan die? Did he find his mother? Or did he go crazy? Mwahaha, I’m leaving the answer to your imagination! Thanks a lot for reading!