Today, I'd like you to meet Fari (in human form, of course)
Judge me not by her curls. It was my first time drawing curls.
You'll also know Fari from Coetir: People of the Woods. She's the witch of the Coetir, the one who leads her people in all things. Oh, and she'll be making another appearance in a later Druid Novel, so it's best not to forget her. *wink*
Today, I want to share with you one of the first times we ever see Fari. At this point in the story, I didn't even know who she was yet. She'd only been in the book a short time, and this scene really helped me to discover who she is as a character, as a person.
Excerpt #2 from Coetir: People of the Woods, by Rani Divine
© Copyright RAD Writing, 2015, All rights reserved
I gasped almost before I opened my eyes. The ground beneath my back was soft—it wasn’t the ground I’d fallen on. And when my eyes opened, the face I most wanted to see was not there before me. Instead, the face was round and feminine, and there were flowers in a halo around it.
She smiled with slightly pointed teeth and reached up to push the brambles of her hair behind pointed ears. My eyes widened and I raised myself up onto my elbows before I realized there was a corset preventing me from breathing. Her eyes narrowed with concern as I dropped back down to the ground.
“Where am I?” I heaved, placing a hand over my chest.
“You speak the language of the Vartes,” she whispered, her eyes widening once again.
“Who are you?”
Her face was marked with awe and wonder, but all I could think of was that I didn’t know where I was, and that I could hardly see.
“Where’s Elim?” I demanded.
She smiled down at me. “I am Fari,” she said, finally composing herself. “You are within the witch den, and Elim is waiting outside.”
“Witch den?” My brow furrowed.
“It is where we learn the ways of the Vartes,” Fari replied. “I have questions they have told me to ask.” She took my hand. “Would you like to stand?”
I nodded, and she practically pulled me to my feet. My corset constricted around my abdomen and prevented me from helping myself off the ground. But her arms were firm under me, and she brushed the dirt off my backside as soon as I was up.
“Thank you,” I whispered. I put my hands on my head and ran my fingers through the strands, pausing only momentarily at the pointedness of my ears. It was only after my hands were back in front of me that I realized something had changed, that something was very wrong. Instead of the lovely tanned skin I remembered having, my flesh was pale and lavender-violet. Instead of being covered in tiny hairs, I was covered in tiny scales, and the color changed almost imperceptibly as I stared down at my arms. Though the color wasn’t as pronounced as the light violet of Fari’s skin, my skin was unmistakably lavender.
I screamed. I held out my arms and pushed up my sleeves, and I screamed. The pointed ears had been one thing—they were somewhat fun and I could easily hide them from the people in the village—but this was completely different. It wasn’t as though I could hide the shade of my skin from my own mother—and what would Caleb and father think? I was sure this would go against Caleb’s views of what was best for the village.
But then again, so would crossing the boundary in the first place.
“Please,” Fari said, placing her hand on my shoulder. “Please,” she said again as my scream faded. “It will be explained.” Her hand found its way to mine. “Come with me: I will show you.”
My head nodded, but I was sure it was of its own accord. I could’ve sworn there was no part of me that wanted to go with her—but go with her I did.
Fari led me out the door, and I realized we were underground. I had been lying on nothing but earth. The reason it was so dim was that the torches were sparse, and inside the room there had been only candles.
“What is this place?” I whispered, staring up at the ceiling that seemed to extend for miles. I’d never even known a place this large could exist.
“It is the witch den,” she said. “Come.”
We climbed down a ladder made only of living vines, and when we reached the bottom I realized that Fari and I were not alone. A group of seven or eight older men—some of whom I recognized from the killing at the boundary—huddled together off to one side of the chamber. Dozens of women knelt in the very center of the room, and I could hear them murmuring in basic. And there, on the opposite side from where Fari and I stood, was Elim.
I smiled, finally seeing the one face that I’d been looking for since my eyes had opened in this unknown place. But before I could go to him, Fari took my hand and led me down another path, away from the main room. “Wait,” I whispered.
“You will see him soon,” Fari replied.
We continued on, and it wasn’t until it was only the sound of my breath and the crackling of fire from the sparse torches that she began to speak. “We are the Coetir of the Dewin, as I’m sure you are well aware,” she said. “We serve only the Vartes. There have been few to ever go against the creator, and those who have were removed of their essence.”
“The man at the boundary,” I whispered under my breath.
“Marike.” She nodded. “His essence was taken because of the death of our witch, Sarit. We do not generally approve of such removals, but there was no other option in his case.”
She was silent for a moment, and she led me into a small room off to the side of the tunnel. “You will need a change of clothes,” she said.
“Why?” At that point, I had every intention of returning home at the end of the day. There was no way to tell what Lionel and the others would believe if I never returned. Would they assume the Coetir had killed me at the perimeter, or would they believe someone in the village had taken me captive? I doubted they would believe that I had crossed the boundary and joined the people of the wood. It was the only thing in our village that was completely forbidden.
I wondered if I was about to find out why.
This place was far stranger than I’d imagined.
“I will explain.” She nodded as she sat on the ground inside the candlelit room. Her hand gestured for me to join her, but I knew that what went down would have great difficulty coming back up. It was why I’d always hated mother making me wear my corset to the perimeter. But my legs were strong from standing for such long periods of time.
“Please,” she urged.
I shook my head and placed my hand over my chest.
“If your dress is a problem, then why not accept the one that I offer?” She smiled, and I couldn’t deny her. If I was to return home and someone saw me I would be thrown in the cells and the fighting would begin. And if I did decide against staying, I was sure Fari wouldn’t be opposed to helping me redress.
She left the room, and when she returned she held a while silk dress. “Do you need help?”
“Please.” I unlaced the front of my gown and turned around for her to unlace the back.
“Why do you dress in such things?” she asked as my dress loosened around my bodice. “The Vartes does not require such things,” she added, her fingers working to loosen my corset.
“My mother helps me dress,” I said. “I’m still a part of her house, so she decides what I am to wear.” I gasped quietly when she removed my corset, sudden relief flooding to my lungs.
“Do you need help out of this?” She tugged at my slip.
“No,” I whispered, turning to face her.
She smiled and handed me the silken dress. “I’ll wait.” She turned and walked outside.
The fabric was unlike anything I’d felt before. My people usually made our cloth from cotton or hemp, and most of our fabric had been handed down through the years, making it old and decidedly less than soft. Most of my own clothes had once belonged to my mother, and her mother before her. But this cloth was fresh, as though it had never been worn before. It was soft and silken, and yet strong—I doubted that I would ever be able to tear it. The feel against my skin was more blissful than I’d imagined—I’d only truly touched the fabric before on Elim.
My gown matched Fari’s exactly. Purest white silk fell to my ankles, hugging at my chest and hips, and carried down my arms to my wrists, widening to bells at the ends of the sleeves. My throat was bared, the neckline covering my chest but allowing my collar to be visible. My hands smoothed the cloth down over my hips and backside before I called Fari to come back inside.
I wondered if my family would even recognize me. At this point, it seemed like almost nothing of me was the same.
“Please, sit,” Fari urged. “It will take time.”
I sighed, but I saw no better option. So I knelt on the soft earthen ground across the room from Fari, and I felt somewhat sad as the fabric of my gown touched the ground. I dipped my head toward her, urging her to continue—I would not speak again until she did.
“You know of the Vartes?” she asked.
My brows furrowed, but I nodded. Elim had spoken enough of the Vartes for me to know it was their deity.
“The Vartes is our creator,” she continued. “The Dewin were created to be one with the earth and all that is within her. We are the ones who ensure, with permission and blessing of the Vartes, that all of the earth continues in the original perfection. The Coetir have been given voice to speak to the wood, the wind, the earth.” Her eyes widened slightly. “Do you understand?”
“The Vartes created you to ensure perfection of the earth.” I nodded.
“The Vartes created your people as well—the untouchables,” she said.
“Why do you call us that?”
“You are no longer one of them,” she whispered, her eyes shifting to the ground. “It was what the witches have always called your people, in this place.” When she looked back into my eyes, she continued, “You know of the past between our peoples?”
“I know what my father told me.” I nodded slowly.
“Our peoples thrive together,” she replied. “But the untouchables did not agree with our ways. They fought against the earth and the ways of the Vartes, and we were forced to curse them. The curse was the precursor to the crossroads between our lands, and it is why we call them the untouchables. We cannot allow the two to blend together, as they attempted in the past. It would result in the loss of their essence.”
“As in, die?” My brow furrowed.
Fari nodded. “They would die.”
“Then why didn’t Elim die, when he touched me?”
Her eyes scanned up and down my body, and she smiled. “Do you not yet see?”
In that moment, everything stopped. I understood what Fari had implied, but I couldn’t believe it. There was no way it could be true. Both mother and father were human. I was human. The change to my skin and ears was a fluke. I couldn’t be one of the Coetir—it wasn’t possible.
“No,” I whispered. My body shook slightly, and I had no doubt that Fari could see it.
“Allow me to continue,” she said, dipping her head slightly.
I nodded, but it may have looked more like a violent tremble. I wasn’t sure.
“Marike, the man you saw the elders remove, attempted to destroy the Coetir way of life.” Her eyes pierced into mine. “Our people require a witch, a woman who is closer to the Vartes than she is to the earth. Since the beginning, our people have followed the witches of the same line.” She took a deep breath. “Marike took the essence of Sarit, our witch. She had no heir among our people.”
For a moment, we both paused. I could almost feel the sadness coming in waves off of Fari. She glanced all around the room, avoiding my eyes, looking more like she was searching for something.
It was during that pause that her words settled in even more. Fari was implying that I was Coetir—but I knew that couldn’t be possible.
She must have been mistaken.
“Elim heard the voice of the Vartes, concerning you, while the elders were praying for the new witch to be revealed,” she continued. “I have heard the words of the Vartes as well.”
“What did they say?”
“The creator wishes you to be trained in our ways; the ways of the Coetir.” Her eyes finally settled on mine, and they did not leave.
I felt like there was nothing I could possibly say. Elim hadn’t mentioned anything like this. Fari was implying that I would never return home, that I would remain here and train in the ways of the Coetir so that I could live out my life with them. But I wasn’t one of them. I was human. It didn’t matter that my skin had turned purple and developed scales, or that my ears were pointed, or, as I now realized, that my nails had narrowed and become more like claws. At heart, I was sure that I was still human.
Then again, even if I was still human, this was a chance to learn about the Coetir in their environment. This was the opportunity I’d always wanted—to see the world I’d dreamed about since I was a child.
A small smile pulled at the corners of my mouth, and a breeze blew around me.
“You see?” Fari smiled, her pointed teeth making me wonder if mine would soon morph to match hers. “The Vartes is already connected to you.” She got up onto her feet and reached out toward me.
I looked up at her, and I said nothing. I could see by the look on her face that she was ready for this conversation to be finished, but I wasn’t. There were still questions that needed answering.
“I do not know what to expect from you.” She laughed, and the sound was unlike anything I had ever heard before. It was like the song of a bird, mixed with the sound of the wind in the leaves, and the stream as it trickled through the village I called home. It was all of these sounds and none of them, and it was beautiful and captivating beyond any sound I’d heard before.
“The sound is the connection being expressed simultaneously,” she said. “The untouchables have been known to fear it.”
“I don’t know how,” I whispered under my breath. I couldn’t imagine anyone fearing something so beautiful.
“What would you like to have explained?” she asked as she sat down beside me, folding her long legs beneath her.
“Tell me about the Coetir,” I whispered.
“There is too much to tell,” she replied, taking my hand. “You must see.” Her smile was sincere and welcoming, and she squeezed my hand. “Elim would make a lovely guide—I cannot yet leave the den.”
“Elim?” I could almost feel my face lighting up at the prospect of seeing my friend.
“I’ll take you to him.”
She smiled with slightly pointed teeth and reached up to push the brambles of her hair behind pointed ears. My eyes widened and I raised myself up onto my elbows before I realized there was a corset preventing me from breathing. Her eyes narrowed with concern as I dropped back down to the ground.
“Where am I?” I heaved, placing a hand over my chest.
“You speak the language of the Vartes,” she whispered, her eyes widening once again.
“Who are you?”
Her face was marked with awe and wonder, but all I could think of was that I didn’t know where I was, and that I could hardly see.
“Where’s Elim?” I demanded.
She smiled down at me. “I am Fari,” she said, finally composing herself. “You are within the witch den, and Elim is waiting outside.”
“Witch den?” My brow furrowed.
“It is where we learn the ways of the Vartes,” Fari replied. “I have questions they have told me to ask.” She took my hand. “Would you like to stand?”
I nodded, and she practically pulled me to my feet. My corset constricted around my abdomen and prevented me from helping myself off the ground. But her arms were firm under me, and she brushed the dirt off my backside as soon as I was up.
“Thank you,” I whispered. I put my hands on my head and ran my fingers through the strands, pausing only momentarily at the pointedness of my ears. It was only after my hands were back in front of me that I realized something had changed, that something was very wrong. Instead of the lovely tanned skin I remembered having, my flesh was pale and lavender-violet. Instead of being covered in tiny hairs, I was covered in tiny scales, and the color changed almost imperceptibly as I stared down at my arms. Though the color wasn’t as pronounced as the light violet of Fari’s skin, my skin was unmistakably lavender.
I screamed. I held out my arms and pushed up my sleeves, and I screamed. The pointed ears had been one thing—they were somewhat fun and I could easily hide them from the people in the village—but this was completely different. It wasn’t as though I could hide the shade of my skin from my own mother—and what would Caleb and father think? I was sure this would go against Caleb’s views of what was best for the village.
But then again, so would crossing the boundary in the first place.
“Please,” Fari said, placing her hand on my shoulder. “Please,” she said again as my scream faded. “It will be explained.” Her hand found its way to mine. “Come with me: I will show you.”
My head nodded, but I was sure it was of its own accord. I could’ve sworn there was no part of me that wanted to go with her—but go with her I did.
Fari led me out the door, and I realized we were underground. I had been lying on nothing but earth. The reason it was so dim was that the torches were sparse, and inside the room there had been only candles.
“What is this place?” I whispered, staring up at the ceiling that seemed to extend for miles. I’d never even known a place this large could exist.
“It is the witch den,” she said. “Come.”
We climbed down a ladder made only of living vines, and when we reached the bottom I realized that Fari and I were not alone. A group of seven or eight older men—some of whom I recognized from the killing at the boundary—huddled together off to one side of the chamber. Dozens of women knelt in the very center of the room, and I could hear them murmuring in basic. And there, on the opposite side from where Fari and I stood, was Elim.
I smiled, finally seeing the one face that I’d been looking for since my eyes had opened in this unknown place. But before I could go to him, Fari took my hand and led me down another path, away from the main room. “Wait,” I whispered.
“You will see him soon,” Fari replied.
We continued on, and it wasn’t until it was only the sound of my breath and the crackling of fire from the sparse torches that she began to speak. “We are the Coetir of the Dewin, as I’m sure you are well aware,” she said. “We serve only the Vartes. There have been few to ever go against the creator, and those who have were removed of their essence.”
“The man at the boundary,” I whispered under my breath.
“Marike.” She nodded. “His essence was taken because of the death of our witch, Sarit. We do not generally approve of such removals, but there was no other option in his case.”
She was silent for a moment, and she led me into a small room off to the side of the tunnel. “You will need a change of clothes,” she said.
“Why?” At that point, I had every intention of returning home at the end of the day. There was no way to tell what Lionel and the others would believe if I never returned. Would they assume the Coetir had killed me at the perimeter, or would they believe someone in the village had taken me captive? I doubted they would believe that I had crossed the boundary and joined the people of the wood. It was the only thing in our village that was completely forbidden.
I wondered if I was about to find out why.
This place was far stranger than I’d imagined.
“I will explain.” She nodded as she sat on the ground inside the candlelit room. Her hand gestured for me to join her, but I knew that what went down would have great difficulty coming back up. It was why I’d always hated mother making me wear my corset to the perimeter. But my legs were strong from standing for such long periods of time.
“Please,” she urged.
I shook my head and placed my hand over my chest.
“If your dress is a problem, then why not accept the one that I offer?” She smiled, and I couldn’t deny her. If I was to return home and someone saw me I would be thrown in the cells and the fighting would begin. And if I did decide against staying, I was sure Fari wouldn’t be opposed to helping me redress.
She left the room, and when she returned she held a while silk dress. “Do you need help?”
“Please.” I unlaced the front of my gown and turned around for her to unlace the back.
“Why do you dress in such things?” she asked as my dress loosened around my bodice. “The Vartes does not require such things,” she added, her fingers working to loosen my corset.
“My mother helps me dress,” I said. “I’m still a part of her house, so she decides what I am to wear.” I gasped quietly when she removed my corset, sudden relief flooding to my lungs.
“Do you need help out of this?” She tugged at my slip.
“No,” I whispered, turning to face her.
She smiled and handed me the silken dress. “I’ll wait.” She turned and walked outside.
The fabric was unlike anything I’d felt before. My people usually made our cloth from cotton or hemp, and most of our fabric had been handed down through the years, making it old and decidedly less than soft. Most of my own clothes had once belonged to my mother, and her mother before her. But this cloth was fresh, as though it had never been worn before. It was soft and silken, and yet strong—I doubted that I would ever be able to tear it. The feel against my skin was more blissful than I’d imagined—I’d only truly touched the fabric before on Elim.
My gown matched Fari’s exactly. Purest white silk fell to my ankles, hugging at my chest and hips, and carried down my arms to my wrists, widening to bells at the ends of the sleeves. My throat was bared, the neckline covering my chest but allowing my collar to be visible. My hands smoothed the cloth down over my hips and backside before I called Fari to come back inside.
I wondered if my family would even recognize me. At this point, it seemed like almost nothing of me was the same.
“Please, sit,” Fari urged. “It will take time.”
I sighed, but I saw no better option. So I knelt on the soft earthen ground across the room from Fari, and I felt somewhat sad as the fabric of my gown touched the ground. I dipped my head toward her, urging her to continue—I would not speak again until she did.
“You know of the Vartes?” she asked.
My brows furrowed, but I nodded. Elim had spoken enough of the Vartes for me to know it was their deity.
“The Vartes is our creator,” she continued. “The Dewin were created to be one with the earth and all that is within her. We are the ones who ensure, with permission and blessing of the Vartes, that all of the earth continues in the original perfection. The Coetir have been given voice to speak to the wood, the wind, the earth.” Her eyes widened slightly. “Do you understand?”
“The Vartes created you to ensure perfection of the earth.” I nodded.
“The Vartes created your people as well—the untouchables,” she said.
“Why do you call us that?”
“You are no longer one of them,” she whispered, her eyes shifting to the ground. “It was what the witches have always called your people, in this place.” When she looked back into my eyes, she continued, “You know of the past between our peoples?”
“I know what my father told me.” I nodded slowly.
“Our peoples thrive together,” she replied. “But the untouchables did not agree with our ways. They fought against the earth and the ways of the Vartes, and we were forced to curse them. The curse was the precursor to the crossroads between our lands, and it is why we call them the untouchables. We cannot allow the two to blend together, as they attempted in the past. It would result in the loss of their essence.”
“As in, die?” My brow furrowed.
Fari nodded. “They would die.”
“Then why didn’t Elim die, when he touched me?”
Her eyes scanned up and down my body, and she smiled. “Do you not yet see?”
In that moment, everything stopped. I understood what Fari had implied, but I couldn’t believe it. There was no way it could be true. Both mother and father were human. I was human. The change to my skin and ears was a fluke. I couldn’t be one of the Coetir—it wasn’t possible.
“No,” I whispered. My body shook slightly, and I had no doubt that Fari could see it.
“Allow me to continue,” she said, dipping her head slightly.
I nodded, but it may have looked more like a violent tremble. I wasn’t sure.
“Marike, the man you saw the elders remove, attempted to destroy the Coetir way of life.” Her eyes pierced into mine. “Our people require a witch, a woman who is closer to the Vartes than she is to the earth. Since the beginning, our people have followed the witches of the same line.” She took a deep breath. “Marike took the essence of Sarit, our witch. She had no heir among our people.”
For a moment, we both paused. I could almost feel the sadness coming in waves off of Fari. She glanced all around the room, avoiding my eyes, looking more like she was searching for something.
It was during that pause that her words settled in even more. Fari was implying that I was Coetir—but I knew that couldn’t be possible.
She must have been mistaken.
“Elim heard the voice of the Vartes, concerning you, while the elders were praying for the new witch to be revealed,” she continued. “I have heard the words of the Vartes as well.”
“What did they say?”
“The creator wishes you to be trained in our ways; the ways of the Coetir.” Her eyes finally settled on mine, and they did not leave.
I felt like there was nothing I could possibly say. Elim hadn’t mentioned anything like this. Fari was implying that I would never return home, that I would remain here and train in the ways of the Coetir so that I could live out my life with them. But I wasn’t one of them. I was human. It didn’t matter that my skin had turned purple and developed scales, or that my ears were pointed, or, as I now realized, that my nails had narrowed and become more like claws. At heart, I was sure that I was still human.
Then again, even if I was still human, this was a chance to learn about the Coetir in their environment. This was the opportunity I’d always wanted—to see the world I’d dreamed about since I was a child.
A small smile pulled at the corners of my mouth, and a breeze blew around me.
“You see?” Fari smiled, her pointed teeth making me wonder if mine would soon morph to match hers. “The Vartes is already connected to you.” She got up onto her feet and reached out toward me.
I looked up at her, and I said nothing. I could see by the look on her face that she was ready for this conversation to be finished, but I wasn’t. There were still questions that needed answering.
“I do not know what to expect from you.” She laughed, and the sound was unlike anything I had ever heard before. It was like the song of a bird, mixed with the sound of the wind in the leaves, and the stream as it trickled through the village I called home. It was all of these sounds and none of them, and it was beautiful and captivating beyond any sound I’d heard before.
“The sound is the connection being expressed simultaneously,” she said. “The untouchables have been known to fear it.”
“I don’t know how,” I whispered under my breath. I couldn’t imagine anyone fearing something so beautiful.
“What would you like to have explained?” she asked as she sat down beside me, folding her long legs beneath her.
“Tell me about the Coetir,” I whispered.
“There is too much to tell,” she replied, taking my hand. “You must see.” Her smile was sincere and welcoming, and she squeezed my hand. “Elim would make a lovely guide—I cannot yet leave the den.”
“Elim?” I could almost feel my face lighting up at the prospect of seeing my friend.
“I’ll take you to him.”
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