Today as I was scrambling over a rock formation, a person suddenly loomed before me. He was a giant as compared to me, yet no more than waist-high to an adult human. His skin had a coppery cast, and his long hair was midnight black. He wore blue pants. His white shirt was bright with beadwork, done in patterns new to me.
Why did it never occur to me that there would be people native to the Enchanted Realm on these strange shores?
“Well, little man,” he said. “Why are you crossing my lands?”
“I am nae a little man!” I cried, on the edge of a fit. I managed to pull myself back. Unlike the selkie, it was possible this…person did not know a brownie when he saw one. I was now on the far side of the sea, after all.
“Then what are you?” asked the big fellow as he bent to look at me more closely. “I have never seen your like.”
I did not like being examined like this, and it pushed me into crankiness. “I am a brownie,” I snapped. “It’s plain as day, and if ye canna see it, then you need new eyes!”
The wretched fellow laughed at me! “And do you know what I am?” he asked.
“Now how should I know that?” I asked angrily.
“Well, how should I know what you are?”
That stopped me in my tracks.
“That’s quite a temper you have, brownie,” the fellow said.
I hung my head. Though I am by nature as sweet as dew on a rose petal, my temper is my downfall. And here I was, in this new land, meeting my first new person, and already acting the pepperpot.
“So, you’re a brownie,” said my new acquaintance. “I’ve heard of your kind, but never met one. A long way from home, aren’t you?”
“A very long way.”
“Have you come to steal our land?”
I looked at him in puzzlement. He smiled, showing admirably white teeth. “Just a joke. A lot of land stealing went on here in the past, so we ask that question of any newcomer.”
“And who is this ‘we’ you speak of?” I asked.
“I am one of the Makiaweesug.”
“And what might be the Makiaweesug?”
“We’re people of the Enchanted Realm, just as you. We have been here since time out of mind.”
“And how do you know I’m of the Realm?”
“Well, there’s your size, to begin with. But mostly there’s the fact that you are here in the Realm to begin with.”
This made me feel a right fool. Drawing myself up to my full not quite twelve inches, I said, “Though I am of the Realm, I am just passing through. I’ve been assigned to a lass who lives not far, and I am bound by ancient pact to her family.”
“Ancient pact” is not quite true, of course, as it is not an agreement that ties me to the McGonagalls but a curse. But I do not like to speak of that.
“And how do you know where to find this girl?”
“I canna help but find her, for I am drawn as a moth to the flame, a fish to the worm, or a needle to a lodestone.”
“Rather fond of words, aren’t you?” said the Makiaweesug.
I paused for a moment, then said, “Yes.”
This short answer earned me a smile and his name, which turned out to be Weegun.
When someone of the Enchanted Realm tells you his name, it is only fit and right that you should do the same, so I bowed and said, “I am Angus Cairns.”
“Well, Angus Cairns, would you like me to walk a while with you?”
It was a pleasant offer, and Weegun seemed a good-hearted fellow. Or perhaps he just wanted to make sure I wasn’t up to any mischief. Either way, I did not think I could refuse him. “I would be glad of your company,” I said, which was hardly a lie at all.
So on we walked. As we did, Weegun told me about his people. Unlike we brownies, they have as little to do with the human world as they can.
My new friend also named for me the trees and flowers that I did not know. I began to feel quite glad that I had met him.
We had been going a bit when I said, “The pull on my heart grows suddenly stronger. I think we draw near my new home.”
“Then I will leave you here, Angus Cairns. We are close to the edge of the Realm, and my people do not leave it unless we must.”
I thanked him for his company, and he wished me well.
Soon after, I came to a place of mists and knew I was about to return to the human world. I decided to write this before I did. Who knows what I will find on the other side? Perhaps this will be the last time I ever make an entry in this diary.
Besides, I must wait until dusk, for I must not be seen.
LATER
I just read over what I have written, and realized I do not need to put down who said what so often. It was clear to me when I was talking and when Weegun was talking.
That’s good writing, I think.
This will save me a lot of time and ink.
Also, it’s neater.