Shaken by a shiver, Maria pulled a wool blanket over her shoulders and looked at the old woman. "What's that sound, Mother Doca?"

"It's the Eddies," said the old woman in a whisper, making the sign of the cross. "They have bells tied to their ankles, and the clink follows their step as they walk the air. Soon, they will start their wandering over forests, ravines, and crossroads."

The tinkles were soon accompanied by lights, rapidly passing through the air.

"It looks like the fireflies have come out," the girl said in a low voice.

"Those are not fireflies, my dear. They are faeries. Carrying candles with them, to see the lost wanderers and to play with their minds and souls ..."

George stood up and searched for the edge of the forest with his eyes, his fists clenched and his gaze fixed on the lights dancing in the air. "They are no candles, either. It's the faery gold, Grandma. The glints of the gold call me, urging me to find it," he said as if enchanted.

The old woman shook her head. "It's not good, my boy, to be tormented by money, to fall into its passion. Come to me tomorrow to read you a disenchantment ..."

"That won't happen, Grandma", he spat the words as if he spat poison. "What's wrong with wanting to have fortunes, not to struggle every day for a penny?"

"There is nothing wrong with wanting to sweeten your life, my dear. But do it through hard work and patience. Think carefully about the things you want to do because you do not know how your life will be rewarded. And don't look for the faery gold in any way. You are not the first nor the last to dare to trample their land and disturb their peace. Some found a handful of coins in the woods and paid for it with their lives. Both they and their families, for the curse of the faery gold is still haunting the offsprings of their offsprings. Others found nothing but returned with their minds forever shuttered. And others were taken by them into their world and no one ever saw them again. Do you really want to go through so much, boy, for a handful of coins?"

But George was relentless. "Grandma, you'd better save these stories for small babies. The treasure is not a ghost, it is real, and it's waiting for me. And no one will ever laugh at me again when I become the richest man in the village. I'll have more than the Boyar Pavel. Then, Elena will want me to be her husband."

The boy's words fell like lightning on Maria, and heavy clouds covered her beautiful eyes. She got up quickly, wrapped herself in a shawl, and kissed the old woman's hand as a sign of goodbye.

"It's late," she said. "My mother is probably worried about me." And without saying nothing more, she set off with a determined step to her home without looking back. George frowned, looked behind her, then said goodbye to his grandmother and hurried to catch up.

"Maria, wait! You can't go home by yourself. The road is dangerous and you can be attacked by forest beasts. Let me take you home. I'm a great travel companion," he joked.

The girl nodded and they both started quietly on the road that bordered the forest. Whispers and snaps could still be heard in the fog surrounding the forest, but the two tried not to mind them.

George felt Mary's uneasiness and fear. He began to hum a merry song he heard at the village gatherings. His voice sounded clear in the night around, accompanied by shouts of owls or nightingale trills. The smell of moss and raw grass, fresh soil, and tree bark filled the air, invigorating them. The sky was now covered with a myriad of stars, and a single glance at the mighty roof above made them dizzy. It was as if they were both floating on the winding path to the village.

From time to time, maybe out of fear or maybe not, the girl shuddered, clutching at the boy's chest. George held her, feeling her thin body tremble and the sweet scent of her hair. And each time, he felt overcome by a strange feeling that shook him to the core.

When they arrived in front of the girl's mud house where her nine relatives lived, Maria stopped in front of the small gate as if not daring to come in. She didn't know why, but she felt like she wanted to linger for a few more moments. It was as if she could not part with that enchanted night. And with George ... But in the window of the house, a dim light glittered, a sign that her mother had not yet gone to bed, still waiting for her.

"I should go in," she whispered. "My mother is waiting for me ..."

But the boy didn't let her finish. He took her by the waist and, pulling her close, pressed his lips against hers. Her soft, milk-scented lips trembled at first, resisting. Then she surrendered to his lips as if she had known his kiss for a lifetime. And their hearts became one, leaping and flying to the sky. 

He wanted that moment to last forever. But the girl broke away from his embrace and ran inside. George watched her melt into the night, trying to easy his breath and the beating of his heart. He would have stayed there until the next day just to see her face bathed in the morning sunlight. But his thoughts suddenly scattered. And, just as suddenly, the boy started for home, leaving behind the most beautiful night he had ever lived.

*

After that enchanted night, Maria had not seen George in weeks. She wandered the places they used to walk together or where she knew she could meet him. It was the only thing she wanted. Just to see him.

When she finally saw him on a Sunday at church, the boy lowered his head, looking away. And Maria felt her heart breaking into a million pieces. What had she done wrong? Didn't he feel even a shred of the love she had for him? She retreated to a corner of the church, where she could no longer see him. What was the use of talking to him? It was clear he had other thoughts. And not with her.

Soon, life seemed grim and pointless to her. The lads who were always around her, calling her to Sunday dance or to the gatherings, always got stuck by her stubbornness. Her mother noticed her uneasiness and sorrow. But when she asked her what was bothering her, the girl told him not to worry, it was all good.

She wasn't even visiting Mother Doca anymore, for fear she might meet George and see the indifference in his eyes again. She heard in the village that George would still go after Elena, the boyar's daughter, trying to win her heart at any cost. So she decided to get him out of her mind. And of her soul, too, if she could ...

But as things happen not by the wish of mortals, but as they are settled by forces greater and stronger than any human mind could comprehend, the two met again. In a place where they never expected to meet.

It was a day like any other. Summer gained its rights and fell over people and their worldly lives. It was Maria's turn to go out with the cattle to graze. The other six younger siblings each worked around the house, helping the parents. She always loved her family. Hard living did not seem to erase their love of life and the joy they found in small things. But their parents, like any parent, for that matter, wished a better life for their children. And they dreamed that maybe their eldest daughter would choose a richer lad in the village and have an easier life than theirs. But Maria's indifference to all the boys who courted her came to worry her parents. They wanted to take her to the village's doctor, but they got stuck by her stubbornness.

Now, Maria was just as lost in thought, as the cattle walked slowly in the summer's heat. She decided to take them elsewhere. She wanted to be alone, to enjoy the peace, the sun, and the flowers that had her heart rejoice every year. She chose a secluded path in the field, guarded by old oaks where the grass was thicker and more tender. 

While the cattle were grazing quietly, Maria began to look for flowers for a wreath. She loved their colors and scent and not a day went by without picking the freshness and perfume of summer and putting it in her blonde strands.

She found small flowers of lady's bedstraw and braided them in her hair. She felt like the princess of the meadow with those delicate flowers in her hair. She began to spin in a dizzying dance. Heaven and earth became one and Mary fell on the soft grass with the sky and the sun dripping into her eyes. Pleasant tiredness took her over for a few minutes, and the girl floated on the wings of sleep and wildflowers. 

She struggled to get out of that pleasant state when she felt her nose itching. As her heavy eyelids drifted away from sleep, she saw George against the sunlight. He smiled at her and stroked her face with a blade of grass. The girl jumped to her feet and looked at him, frowning

"What are you doing here?"

George laughed. "Did you think you were the only one who knew about this place? No, my dear ...  I've been coming here with the cattle for years."

"Fine, but this place isn't just yours. I can come here whenever I want to. Me or anyone else," she said, pretending to be annoyed by his presence.

A smile appeared in the corner of his mouth. "Of course, no one's stopping you. But it would be good to guard your cattle, though. I had to gather a few. They reached the foot of the hill. I don't understand how you can sleep in a time like this ..."

The girl looked worriedly at her herd and began to count her cattle. She then breathed easy. They were all there.

"Thank you," she said, looking down.

"Any time," he simply replied.

It was afternoon already, and the entire field was bathing in the sunlight. They both retreated into the shade of an old oak tree without saying a word. Maria took out of her bag the bread and cheese her mother had prepared for her and invited the boy to eat with her. He eagerly ate it and drank the water from the clay jug that had kept it fresh.

As the sun began to withdraw its scorching cloak, Maria and George began to roam the surroundings. They played catch-up, as they did when they were children, running among the flowers and tall grass. The boy deliberately let her go away, only to catch up with her later, holding her by the hands and spinning with her until the surroundings turned dizzying. Then they both fell into the grass and looked at the sky.

The field resounded with their shouts and laughter. The girl's tresses soon loosened, letting the scent of summer scatter all around her. And George felt intoxicated again by that strange feeling of being with her. Their hands touched as they laid on the grass, and their fingers intermingled.

"You're like a sunshine, Mary," he said as he looked into her eyes. "I wish you could light up my life every day..."

"I would if you just let me..." she whispered. But then, she saw him frown. He pulled his hand from her hand and got up.

"I can't. Not even the brightest sunshine can break a storm," he added and walked away from her with a determined pace.

Maria followed him in silence, a thousand thoughts running through her head. Without realizing it, they reached the top of the hill that bordered the field and went down to the valley. Then the girl stopped. In front of them, the Forest of Wind was laying.

"George, let's go back," she begged him.

"Don't be such a scary mouse. It's just a forest," he said, stepping closer without even looking at her. And the girl followed him, too afraid to be alone near those woods.

The forest looked like any other. Poplars and oaks rose to the sky, and a gentle breeze caressed their cheeks. The sun still crept through the foliage, illuminating here and there, patches of grass and moss. The forest had a green, raw, and unknown scent. It spoke to them in the flutter of wings and rustling of bushes, in the breezes of branches, and the crackling of twigs under their bare feet. George took a deep breath of the forest's air. Afraid she might get lost in the forest, Maria took him by the hand and they both started to explore the green land that was shown before their eyes.

No one dared utter a word as if the whole forest was a living being who would hear the slightest whisper. They had never entered the forest so deep, warned by their parents or frightened by what the old people said. The villagers barely dared to gather firewood at the edge of the forest. And there were many stories about those who had been cursed for life for daring to disturb its peace. The wives of the men who had disappeared without a trace in the land of the Eddies still lived, trusting that their husbands had perished as a result of thoughtless deeds. The youngest laughed at them, saying the men had probably left their homes because of such annoying women. But the old women stuck to their stories and spoke with fear of such creatures, saying their names only in a whisper.

Those dark thoughts were gathering in Maria's head now. She knew the Eddies seduced young and handsome boys with their songs and their beauty, and she feared for George. But she said nothing for fear that a single word would awaken the fae and bring them out of their world. George slowly let go of the girl's hand and began rummaging through the ground with a stick. Maria knew then that he was looking for the faery treasure. That the fire of finding it still burned in his heart.

Soon, the gentle wind caressing their cheeks turned stronger, bending the crowns of the trees above them. Heavy leaden clouds filled the sky and flashes of light furrowed the horizon, roaring loudly. Heavy raindrops began to fall heavily on their skin.

"We should go back," Maria shouted through the storm. "My cattle must be frightened by the thunder."

The boy spat in spite, glaring at her. He tossed the stick and grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the edge of the forest.

They barely managed to gather the frightened cattle before the wrath broke out. And they all took shelter under the old oak that covered everyone with its protective cloak. It didn't matter to Maria that they were soaking wet or that she had lost the wrath she had so fondly made. Now they were safe, away from the trembling forest.

As the sky poured down the rain with anger, George held Maria tight to his chest, trying to stop her from shivering. And the warmth embraced them both as the boy's lips caressed with soft kisses the girl's forehead, cheeks, and mouth...They stood there, chained in an endless embrace, forgetting about one and all.

"I'll find that treasure, one day... Whatever it takes. I swear I will, " the boy whispered, his lips glued to the girl's wet hair.

*

Somewhere, in the heart of the woods, a hand with long, gray, twitching fingers picked up the wreath of yellow flowers. And a black eye, blacker than the darkest cloud, blinked with eyelashes of dead grass blades at the fragile flowers that still kept the scent of the girl's hair...

Thank you for reading this story! I hope you'll enjoy it just as much as you enjoyed my other fairy tales.  As you might have noticed, there are a lot of motifs that you've already met in my stories. The forest, the wind, and of course, the fairies. However, this is not connected with the Ferry's Tale series, nor a prequel of the series. 

This story is particularly dear to me because it's inspired by the fairies of Romanian folklore, called the Iele ( meaning they/them in Romanian because people didn't dare to speak their names). They were also the inspiration for the Tenalach fairies, and they are some of the most intriguing, fascinating creatures in fairy lore. Some of the stories about them in this book are inspired by true stories as told by the elders.