Airie

Borwin’s house was three times as big as Dusan’s, which made sense for the head of the village who had two wives and a brood of children. His oldest offsprings were of Dusan’s age and lived separately. The youngest now ran in the yard like a flock of birds, making equally much noise.

“Go, play somewhere else,” said an old woman, stepping out of the house, waving the children away.

She gave Dusan a suspicious look. He said his greetings, and she nodded, the wary expression never leaving her face. She stepped aside, and he walked past her into the cool shadows inside the house, feeling her eyes on his back. She wasn’t the first one to act like this towards him today. The looks the other villagers had given him on his way here had been just as weird. Being out of their sight was a relief.

Borwin awaited him in the largest room, sitting on a chair, carving something with a knife. He was good with wood, and toys he’d made for his kids were everywhere—wooden dolls dressed in rags, wooden swords, wooden animals. As Dusan stepped in, Borwin put the block he’d been working on aside and stood up heavily.

“Good day to you,” said Dusan.

“Show me your wound,” said Borwin, walking to the window.

After a brief hesitation, Dusan followed him, untying his sash. He raised his tunic and showed Borwin the scar on his side, dark and prominent but mostly healed.

“Witchery,” Borwin muttered, examining it. “You should have died from this.”

“Are you disappointed?” Dusan said, lowering the tunic.

“Not disappointed you’re alive,” Borwin said, watching Dusan tie his sash. “You’re like a son to me, and you know that. Yet there’s no natural way you could have recovered from this, and in a matter of days. You’ve been meddling with those creatures again, haven’t you? Have they come to the village? There’s no way you went to the forest, not in the state you were in.”

“An airie came to my house,” Dusan admitted. “He chose to help me.”

“Chose! They aren’t to be trusted. They mess with your head. What do you owe him now, for saving your life?”

“He didn’t ask for anything.”

“Worse still! Who knows what he’ll request?” Borwin shook his head. “Have you learnt nothing? When you see an airie, you cut them open, bleed their power out of them, then treat them as you would any regular enemy.”

Dusan knew the wisdom, had heard it times before, yet it sounded different now. In stories the elders told, the airies were portrayed as predators, hunting humans for their own enjoyment. Yet if they were so powerful, how come they hadn’t been spotted for years, until Reijo’s appearance? If Reijo was indeed the last airie in this forest, that put the old tales in a different light. If airies had been hunted into near extinction by humans, which of the two species was the actual predator?

“I’m just thinking,” Dusan said. “Whoever has created the world—and us—has also created the airies. Why do we take it upon ourselves to destroy them? They have their place. It shouldn’t be up to us to deny it.”

Borwin frowned. “They operate outside of the natural laws. They’re abomination, a mistake to be fixed. Anyway, I don’t like it that you have such thoughts. Whose side are you on?”

“Ours, of course—but do there have to be sides? Can’t we just let them be and make peace? There’re barely any of them left, anyway.”

“That’s a good thing. I hoped they were gone completely, but now the one you’ve been dealing with came into the picture… where did you even meet him?”

“In the forest.”

Borwin clicked his tongue. “We should all be very careful from now on. As for you…” He looked Dusan over, his lips pressed into a thin line. “What should we do with you?”

Dusan felt chills. Despite the strange looks he’d been getting and the whispers he’d heard behind his back, he still was a part of the community. Did Borwin see him differently now? Could he get banished—or worse?

“I’m not sure,” Borwin said thoughtfully. “You’re one of us, yet you’ve been making dumb decisions lately. Can you promise me to never speak to that creature again?”

“That wouldn’t be wise,” Dusan said, choosing his words carefully. “Ignoring him might anger him and make him attack me—or us.”

“Could you, then… get rid of him?” Borwin’s eyes fixed on Dusan. “That would be best. If he approaches you again, look for a way to get close, and then… you know what to do, don’t you?”

If you see an airie, you cut them open.

“I’ll see if I can get close enough,” Dusan said.

“Good. Still, it will be best if you never meet him again. Don’t try to seek him out. I can see that he has the power to meddle with your thoughts. Yet I know you, boy, and I believe that you’ll make the right choice if it comes to that.”

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