Submission (#198) Approved

A breeze gently stirred the leaves of the trees in the Faerindell forest, sending a soft whispering ripple through the surrounding countryside. The heady scent of the flowers known as faerie shrouds which hung from nearly every tree in the woods wafted along on the breeze as well. Despite the tranquility of the fae-touched forest, there was a sense of foreboding in the air this evening. It was the time of Feyhallow, when the Miasma began to creep its way back across Eyre and the Elnins began to prepare for the long dark period when they would keep largely to their dwellings in order to avoid the effects of the mysterious fog-like phenomenon. Still, it was as good a time as any for a celebration, one last big gathering of Elnins before everyone returned home to wait out the Miasma. Laurent's elaborate invitation to a grand Masquerade Ball to be held at his castle was the talk of the land, and Elnins from all over were constructing masks and costumes for the event and making their way to the Elnin king's castle. A night of magic and mystery, gaiety and companionship was promised; there was no doubt in anyone's mind that this would be the party to end all parties, the perfect sendoff before the season of hiding.

Some were already in hiding, though for different reasons. One of these was a dark, elegantly beautiful Elnin whom the Elnins of Faerindell called the Baroness. She had a name as well as a title, though few knew what it was; she was reluctant to share it with anyone unless she knew or trusted them very, very well. And there were precious few Elnins who were that close to her in all of Eyre. Secretive and mysterious, she nevertheless carried a regal presence wherever she went. Right now, though, the Baroness was wishing that she was invisible.

She kept as still and silent as she possibly could, praying that the leafy shadows cast by the trees and undergrowth of the forest floor would conceal her from the approaching Sylvans. This was a fairly dangerous game she played, travelling the main road through their lands -- but it was the fastest way to get to the Masquerade. It promised to be the fete of the year, and she wasn't about to miss it; she so rarely got an opportunity to do things for herself as the head of her tiny village. The path she had chosen crossed the main Sylvan road through this part of Faerindell, largely open farmland with a few stands of trees, dotted with small villages. The Elnin residents of this region mostly lived in the pink-forested area surrounding the great tree in the capital city of Elenion, but some Elnin lived in villages deep in the lush green forests that filled the rest of the region. Elnin paths through these forests frequently crossed Sylvan roads, but the Elnins were careful to avoid direct encounter with the unpredictable, often surly primary denizens of Faerindell. Normally the Baroness would have stayed exclusively on the Elnin path, but the Sylvan road was the more direct route to Laurent's castle, and the risk was sometimes worth it, as it was in this case.

The Sylvan voices grew louder, and the Baroness pressed herself down amongst the foliage and leaf litter even more, peering through a small gap between the leaves of the bushes that sheltered her. Her brown cloak, tattered and covered with decorative leaves, and the leafy circlet she wore woven into her long dark hair, blended well with the foliage she had hidden herself in, as did her brown tail and fur. She felt fairly certain that she wouldn't be seen, yet she was still fearful that she would be spotted; and she wanted to avoid conflict at all costs.

The Baroness froze as the Sylvans stopped on the road practically right in front of her. Had they seen her? Oh please, let them not have seen her! But no, it didn't sound like she had been noticed; they continued to talk in normal tones of voice and made no move toward her hiding spot. Still, she felt so exposed, as if she was sitting in the middle of the road waving a banner proclaiming "here I am!" After a few agonizingly long minutes, the Sylvans finally moved on, but the Baroness remained hidden and still until they were well out of sight down the path. Then she let the breath she didn't know she had been holding out slowly. That was a little too close for her comfort.

Maybe it would have been safer to traverse the Elnin path through the woods after all. She let out a little disgusted huff. Maybe it would have been safer to just stay home in her nice quiet safe little village and not attend the Masquerade at all. Maybe it would have been safer to never venture outside again! The Baroness shook her head. What was life without taking risks? What good did it do to play things safe forever and never take a chance? Yes, what she was doing was potentially dangerous; but living itself was dangerous. And she so desperately wanted to go to the Masquerade -- and, she decided on the spot, to never return to her safe little village. She thought for a moment about the Elnins she would be leaving behind; they would be just fine without her, they had been fine without a titular head before, before she had even been there. The only reason she had set herself up as their Baroness in the first place, when she had first arrived at the village, was to organize them and show them how to protect themselves against the fae. Now that they had a system in place, her Elnin subjects (she hated the word "subject", she had never lorded it over the Elnins in her village) would be fine on their own. They would be able to protect themselves with what she had taught them, the guidance she had left for them.

Now was the right time for her to take her leave and move on.

The villagers would miss her for awhile, she was certain, but they would go on, maybe elect another Baron or Baroness, and carry on with their lives. And she would establish herself someplace else, as she had done many times before. For the first time since she had decided to go on this adventure, she felt a sense of loss, a sense of regret. She would miss her little village, and her villagers, and her peaceful, safe life there. She would miss the lovely little estate they had set up for her to live in as their Baroness. She felt tears welling up in her pale aqua eyes, and she angrily brushed them away with a paw. No, she was doing the right thing. For everyone.

Donning her mask for the Ball, dark with long horns protruding from the sides, the Baroness leaped out from her hiding place onto the main road. With a quick glance over her shoulder, she scampered off down the road, leaving a trail of tiny golden leaves in her wake that scattered through the forest on the gentle breeze.