Shadowing a Shadow

Being a fae is about the power of debts. We grow, hold less debts, diminish into freedom. The oldest fae are weaker than the younger in ways that are merely superficial. Power diminishes as wisdom increases; the universe never runs out of lessons. I have not been a fae long. I am not certain I considered myself wise. Some things fade, vanish from recall. For our protection, and to protect others from us.

I slip through streets, past people. Even magicians cannot piece a fae glamour unless we allow it; most Outsiders cannot as well.

I had been told to shadow a shadow, to make certain the world is safe from it.

I thought it foolish.

And it was, until the shadow turned to me. Until it told me, eleven and so polite, that it had been told to have adventures. And having adventures was hard if I kept trying to fix everything. The shadow was larger than I. Deeper than even a fae could go. We gain much, with glamour, but there are things we lose as well. The shadow knew this without malice. Understood without condemnation.

I stared into a Power unlike anything I had known. I asked what it had in mind. It suggested playing fetch with Dogmeat. Which turned out to be a dog. And then others. Entities. Powers. Some horrified, some befuddled, some amused. A few said no. It was a mark of the nature of the shadow that it was confused, but let them say no. Offered other games. Wandered.

Eventually we played fetch ourselves. Glamours and shadows, darkness and light. It grinned after, told me I had been quite jaysome and then was gone.

I returned to the West Court. I made my report, was asked what I had learned.

“I have no idea,” I said.

Several old fae laughed gently and said that was the only honest answer.

I think I have passed a test.

I have no idea what kind it was.