Siv glances down at me with curious eyes. The flames dance at the fire pit, lighting up her face with shades of orange and yellow.
“So you are saying that you want to stay here? You don’t want to find others like you?” she asks me. Her voice is full of surprise and wonder.
I nod my head, “Yes, I want to stay here, I like staying here. At least for now. I don’t even know if I am a blood child like you say, I just know that I feel at home here.” I look up at her with big eyes.
She sighs as she places her fingers at her temples, “Fine, little one. You may stay, but if I find out you’re causing trouble you have to leave, ok?”
“Yes! Thank you, Siv,” I exclaim and throw my arms around her. Her eyes widen at my sudden display of affection.
She smiles and pats my hair, “It’s alright, little one. You can be safe here. We don’t mind you,” she reassures me with her gentle voice.
I breathe out, and I feel relieved. At least they won’t try to kill me for not being human.
I stay with them for many days and nights. I play with the other children, I have never had playmates before. The others stare at me sometimes, but I am an outsider so it’s no surprise. My broken heart still weeps at night, I miss my mother. I miss her songs and goodnight kisses. I wonder how she’s doing, I want to go see her again someday. Simply to see how she is, if nothing else. I am an island in my sorrow. I am an island far from home.
I spend my days helping Are with his chores, he is kind, like the older brother I never had. One sunny day we go fishing in the river nearby. Are ruffles my hair cheerfully, he seems as full of sorrow as me. Crows caw gently overhead as we look into the slow river.
“They seem to like you, don’t they? Crows are always around you,” Are tells me cheerfully, “It’s not a bad thing, they are messengers of the gods aren’t they?” He glances up at the black feathered birds.
“What’s the difference between a changeling and a hulder?” I ask him. His teal eyes, just like the gently flowing river, glitter in the light of the sun.
“That’s a good question. Hulder are usually females, changelings are males. It’s a simple answer. Changelings can change their form to appear more human. While hulder can only look like hulder,” he replies quickly and glances at me.
“Oh, so why do they replace human babies with changelings? Where do the babies go?” I look at Are with an overflowing amount of curiosity.
He laughs, “That answer is less simple. Hulder can feel death. They sense it days before it comes, death follows them everywhere. Some say death is their companion. Hulder are also not as vicious as stories have them be. They feel compassion, a lot of it. Some deaths are too much to bear. Like the death of young ones. They take pity on the mother and replace the young one before the mother even notices. Sparing them the pain of death,” he explains as he looks up at the ever-changing sky. I can see sorrow in his face.
“That- that’s too sad,” I mutter, “They would give their own child, so the mother wouldn’t have to grieve?”
“Exactly, it might not be ideal. Sometimes it leads to heartbreak. Like in my case. Yet it’s a pure form of love,” he grins at me. Some part of me wishes I was a changeling now. It would be so much better than this. My mind drifts back to my mother, to that night. The crows caw louder, it’s all I can hear.
“I- I don’t feel so good. I’m gonna go back,” I mumble as I let go of my fishing stick and jolt back to the longhouse.
I am an island. Even in this place. In this ever-changing forest, under the clouds drifting by. I feel the darkness in my chest. It’s holding. So tightly. I miss my mother. She was love, everything she did, everything she was.
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