“Go and fetch the water, Mavina, and mind you, go quickly. Your father will be home directly, and I don’t want you losing your head daydreaming.”

“I will, Mum,” and she kissed her mother on her rosy cheek.

Looking at them both was like looking in a mirror. Each had strawberry blond hair that flowed and bounced, when not tied back or plaited. Their fair skin was like cream and long, thick eyelashes curled around wide eyes that were as green as the grassy hills. Mavina was a smart young lass, as kind as she was beautiful. She had a gentle soul and all of the animals on the farm knew of her soft voice and caring touch. Most of all, she loved her mother dearly. Her mother was quite young with the name of Arienh. She, too, was kind and beautiful and she loved her daughter with all her heart.

“Mind the Kelpie!” Arienh called out to her daughter.

“I will, Mum!” was the reply and off she went.

For a moment, Arienh watched her little girl skip down the path. Then a feeling of dread began to steal into her heart, as it did every day at this hour. Her chest began to tighten, her face became strained, and a sick feeling overcame her, for it was almost time for her husband to arrive home from his work of chopping wood. She stirred the stew and hoped the meat was not tough, for it would displease her husband. She checked the loaves of bread and carefully prepared the table for their meal.

Mavina made her way to the creek that flowed near to her home. The sun was starting to go down and a slight chill hung in the air. She kneeled at the bank and filled her bucket with water. She noticed, out of the corner of her eye, a colorful light glinting in the last sunlight of the day. It was just beyond a rock sticking up from the mud, not very far from where she stood. She thought her eyes were playing tricks on her, so when it happened once more, her curiosity grew. She wondered what could be making such a bright, unusual glow. Finally, she could stand it no longer. She balled up her dress in her fists and began to take small, hesitant steps into the cold water. Perhaps it was a treasure of some sort, she thought to herself. Wouldn’t her mother and father be so happy with her if she made the family’s fortune?

With each step, the water level grew a little deeper. One more step and she was almost up to her knees. She couldn’t quite make out what was lying on the rock, but it looked like an abnormally giant insect. She was equally horrified, and fascinated, by what looked like matted hair stretched out into the flowing water, splashing around the rock. She squinted her eyes, trying to make sense of it. All at once, she gasped with the realization of what she was seeing. At that very same moment, she felt her foot sink deep into a pocket of oozing mud. She practically fell over, but managed to steady herself with her arms out, letting go of her dress that had been bunched tightly in her hands.

She was overcome with sudden emotion and felt her heart break with pity. There, before her, was a tiny, sparkly fairy with delicate wings all twisted the wrong way. The fairy’s silvery pink hair was just visible under the surface of the water and her luminescent eyes barely glowed under closed lids. She had a bluish look to her and Mavina wondered if she was too late. She had to take another step to get to the wispy sprite. She pulled on her foot, but it was stuck fast in the mud. She began to wiggle her toes back and forth and soon she could feel her foot pulling free from her shoe. At last, her bare foot came loose and she was able to take another step closer to the poor creature.

She scooped her up gently in both hands and made her way back to the bank. Mavina was soaked almost up to her hips, but she hardly noticed. She was instantly enchanted with her tiny treasure and wrapped the dry part of her apron around the seemingly lifeless body. She nearly started home without the bucket of water before she turned around and picked up the heavy load in one hand. Nevertheless, she had to limp home, leaving behind one shoe buried deep under the water and mud. She thought it was a small price to pay for such a rare and wonderful find as a pixie.

As luck would have it, Mother was in the garden, and she was able to sneak her fairy treasure up the ladder to her loft. She tried to make the fairy as comfortable as possible and only left her to fetch something to mend her fragile friend. She gathered up a spot of milk, a drop of honey and a splash of dandelion tonic. Mavina carefully climbed back up to her fairy and stopped short when she saw the beautiful creature sitting up on her pillow, shivering, but smiling.

“Oh, beautiful one! You are awake! Ay, but you are chilled to the bone!” whispered Mavina. She made a hollow cave beneath her pillow and the tiny fairy nestled into the small, cozy space to warm her soaked body.

“You are too kind,” replied the little fairy, her voice sounding like a cooing dove.

“Please take some nourishment, Miss. By what name are you called?”

“I am Lhiannan-Elly, dear one. And I am grateful for your rescue. If it weren’t for your bravery, I would have faded away by now, for I was on the brink of death.”

“Pardon, but how did you come to be in the river?”

“I was headlong into a bluebell when a strong gust of wind took me by surprise. I was thrown against a stone and from hence laid there in a near lifeless state. ‘Tis for your innocent belief in me that breathed much life back into my soul, and for that I am eternally grateful.”

The door opened and shut quickly and Mavina heard her mother bustling about.

“Mavina,” called her mother urgently. The color drained from Mavina’s face and her wide eyes begged the fairy to stay hushed and hidden. She raised a silent finger to her mouth and started to scramble down her ladder, when she remembered her lost sandal. Only now had she stopped to think about her shoe that was drowned. Her wet dress hung heavy about her legs. She started to think of what fantastic story she could give about her disheveled state.

“What has happened to you, daughter?” Her concerned mother whispered to her. Mavina scrambled to her place in front of the fire next to her mum, clasped her hands and cast her eyes down, as did her mother, ready for Father’s inspection. She was in the nick of time, for her father had just entered the house.

Powell O’Baudain was a large bearded man with short reddish hair and a flat, scarred nose that was slightly crooked from many prior breaks. One of his front teeth had been knocked out of his head. His face was hard and fixed with an expression of sternness and not a trace of kindness. First, he looked to see if the table was set and the house was clean. Everything was in its place. The good smell of dinner and bread wafted through the tidy home. He then walked over to where the girls stood, as instructed, upon his arrival each day.

“Wife.”

“My lord,” Arienh responded, and gave a little curtsy.

“Daughter.”

“My lord,” Mavina replied as she gave a little curtsy.

“Why do you stand before me in such a state, child?” he inquired coldly, as he stood before Mavina, noticing her disarray. Mavina had thought of saying that she was almost drowned by the Kelpie, but thought better of it, thinking a lie might not be the best notion. She was at a loss for words.

“Wife, why does our daughter have one shoe and one barefoot? And she is soaked to the bone.”

“I was not aware of it, my lord,” was Arienh’s muted response.

Mavina had been afraid for herself, but now she feared for her mother, for it was only at this moment that she realized that she had put her mother in a very unfavorable position. She was wary of her father’s silence. She knew all too well that his temper was short and his hands were quick to make justice when he saw the need.

“My lord, I was careless whilst I was fetching the water and I lost my shoe in the currents,” Mavina fearfully stated. She knew full well what this meant for her, but was glad to take the punishment, rather than see her mum take the brunt of it.

“You are going to feel my strap for this!”

Mavina obeyed her father and turned to fetch the strap from its prominent resting place on the wall next to the fire. Arienh stood by silently.

“You will learn not to be careless with the things that are provided for you by the toil and labor of your father!” he continued harshly. Mavina knew the strap her father used to sharpen his knives and lived in fear of it. She offered it up in her two trembling hands and bowed her head low. Her father took the strap and stepped back, clearing her path to the table. She somberly walked to the table and carefully placed the plate and cup to the side. She reached under her dress to pull down her drawers and let them hang about her ankles. She then lifted her skirts, and took her place bent over the wooden table.

Arienh cringed each time the strap connected with Mavina’s bare bottom and tears welled up in her eyes. She recalled her own fear the moment her father brought Powell to the house and informed her that she had been promised to a man twenty years her senior, and that she was to go with him and become his wife. Powell had taught her many hard lessons in ten years time, sealing her fate with his curse, and now she feared her beloved daughter was vulnerable to his insatiable urges.

“To bed!” commanded her father in a husky voice when he had delivered the last deliberate slap to her reddened behind. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, a powerful yearning in his loins. Mavina lifted her undergarments and without a glance to anyone, climbed the ladder to her loft. Arienh breathed a sigh of relief that her daughter was safe in her bed. Mavina climbed under the covers and curled into a ball. Her sweet fairy calmed her silent tears and caressed the curve of her fair cheek. Together they listened helplessly to the aftermath.

Arienh was aware of her husband’s lustful mind when he strapped Mavina and she knew all too well what followed every one of Mavina’s punishments. With more frequency as of late, she did as she always did, and obediently followed her husband to their bedroom where he was feverishly untying the twine holding up his yellowed britches. Without a word, she sank to her knees in front of him and waited. She heard him breathing heavily. Then he released his throbbing member in front of her face. She could smell the heavy, musky stink of sweat and urine. She got down lower on her hands and pushed her face into his scrotum and tasted the acrid, hairy sac that hung before her. He smashed his hips into her feminine face while he held her small head. As taught, she ran her tongue up his damp shaft and came back to a full kneeling position. He pulled her braid roughly, making her wince, her face tilted up.

“Open,” he commanded. She took the whole of him into her pretty mouth, stretched wide to accommodate his full girth. He moaned and moved her backwards, pushing her head against the edge of the bed. He shuffled his body along with hers, keeping his member stuffed deep in her mouth. He propped himself up with one arm on the mattress and began steadily thrusting in and out of her mouth, causing her head to bang into the wooden frame behind her. She kept her eyes tightly shut and endured the onslaught. He was groaning and sweating steadily, ready to ejaculate. The ugly sounds of sloppy garble escaped from her throat when she swallowed his seed.

Mavina and Lhiannan-Elly listened to the rhythmic grunts and low cursing of her father’s lust, until his heavy breathing slowed, signaling his satisfaction. The silence was broken when he demanded dinner. They heard her mother shuffling about the fire, preparing his meal. What she heard next caused her tremendous grief.

“You’ve burned the bread, wench!” followed by the sound of a slap, her mother’s guttural gasp and loss of footing, boots scuffling on the floor. “Get up, woman!” Then another slap.

Mavina brought her hands up to cover her ears. At this, the angered fairy had heard enough, kissed the child on her cheek, gave her a fiery look, and darted out the window. The girl’s heart broke all over again at the loss of her pretty pixie and she sobbed quietly until she fell asleep to the thrashing sounds of her mother being beaten and abused over the table, her empty belly forgotten.

Later in the night, Powell was awoken by the sound of his horse whinnying and making a frightful ruckus. He ran to the barn just in time to see his two cows running through the barn doors, which had been left wide open. They seemed as terrified as the horse, who was about to knock down his stall. Powell couldn’t understand what was happening and ran back to the house. He pulled on his boots, grabbed his knife, and ran back to the barn once more. He mounted his horse and took off in pursuit of his property.

He rode deep into the forest where he found his cows grazing in a clearing. He managed to herd his cattle together and was preparing to tie ropes around their necks when his horse reared up and kicked his front legs, throwing him to the ground. The confused man scanned the darkness around him and that was when he saw two red eyes glowing among the trees, just beyond his cows. Out of the night trotted a black spirit horse with flaming eyes, blowing smoke from his nostrils. The creature broke out into a gallop, heading directly towards Powell. His animals bolted in the direction of home and he was left standing to face the magnificent horse. Powell blinked and the shapeshifter suddenly changed into a hooved man with curved horns protruding from his deer-like head. The stunned Powell could smell the stink of death on the demon and its piercing red eyes held his petrified stare.

“What do you want of me, Puca?” he asked the beast, holding his dagger up to it. The demon hissed and Powell fell to his knees, dropping his weapon. He screamed in agony while the bones in his hands and feet twisted into gnarled masses of joints and flesh, rendering them as useless as burled knots. The beast raised one of its arms in a signal and two ravens swooped down from their perch. They screeched and dug their claws into Powell’s face, pecking at the tender globes of his eyes, plucking them out, leaving two bloody hollows within the man’s skull. His shreiks fell into the dark night upon the silent mossy trees and the moistened dirt.

“I have done nothing wrong!” Powell mournfully cried out.

“Lies,” hissed the beast and grabbed the man’s slashed face in one of his powerful hands. The Puca squeezed Powell’s cheeks, forcing his jaw open.

“You have a serpent’s tongue!” With those words, Powell’s tongue swelled to fill the whole of his jaw and then suddenly transformed and there, dangling from his mangled skull, protruded a two-headed snake in its place.

“You are banished from your home, never to return. Your destination is in these woods forever more. The boundary of your existing days will be within this clearing. Any path you take to find your way home will only lead you back to this place.” These were the Puca’s ominous last words before it shifted once more into the black horse and galloped off, leaving the hideous Powell to his fate.