Her name was Violetta, and she was hidden away from the world in a Wilde Wood. Why, you may ask, but you will not find an answer. Violetta was a Fey’s long lost child with a mortal woman. When she was born, she crawled from her crib and went to the forest, where she felt she belonged. She was raised by the trees, the animals, and waited upon by the Fey Folk. She could speak all the languages of Gaia’s creation.

They called her their Princess, though the Fey had no King. Violetta’s father was awestruck by her presence, but always kept his secret. He was ashamed of leaving her mother, but proud of Violetta’s decision to come Home. He prayed to Gaia with all his heart to be able to tell her of her family history— he often told her to guard her heart from all men’s advances, be they Fey or mortal. She knew of Mortals—she’d seen them, running in the forest. They were hunters, and left her and her people alone.

Then one day, while out on her own, she came upon a strange man, in armor. He was kneeling in a Fairy Ring. A horse, highly decorated in rich fabrics, was just to the side of it, chewing on flowers. Violetta felt her pulse quicken as he looked up suddenly, and caught her with his Warm Bronze Eyes. He beckoned for her to come closer, but she stepped back, calling to the wolves for protection. The man’s sword dangled at his side as he stood up, speaking to her in a tongue unknown to her ears.

A pair of wolves joined her at her side, and the man stood still. He was still using such garish words. Violetta began to mimic them, repeating what he had first said when he saw her standing nearby. He then said his name, Gregory. Violetta repeated it slowly, understanding its meaning, her fluency of his language ever increasing. As said before, she was a stunning beauty, with an amazing sense of wit—though, perhaps just a bit naive. In her World, all can be trusted. But, in the world from whence her mother and Gregory came, not everything is safe and harm free— especially men.

Pointing to a bunch of violets under an Elder bush, Violetta spoke her name in Gregory’s tongue. She mentioned that she was a Princess in her Land, where there was No King. Gregory was confused, but nodded in reply, a certain Hunger building in his face. He remarked on the simpleness of it, not matching her beauty. She blushed, not knowing what to say to this new friend.

Taking her hand, as she dismissed the wolves, Gregory asked her to come lay with him within the Fairy Ring. He was telling her about what he was praying for; he had asked for divine inspiration. And lo, Violetta then appeared. Gregory spoke softly now, as they lie together upon the ground. Slowly, he began to touch her, telling her that he loved her, how he Would Love her. But, she did not Know of the ways of Men... her naiveté would be her sorrow, in the end.

After many a passion filled moment, Gregory pulled Violetta to her feet, and gathered her dress from ground. She stood and watched him clothe his body as well. His armor, laced into various straps upon the saddle, glimmered in the afternoon light through trees. Her mind was racing; she felt the very skin of Gaia beneath her bare feet move.

Gregory held her chin, and said “Speak not of today to anyone, for it was a sacred thing that betwixt you and I occurred. I’ll come to thee by the moonlight, and wed you as my bride, Little Princess.” He mounted his horse and was off with a flurry of leaves. She did not move until the pair of wolves returned, with her father.

He was in a rage; he looked upon the scene and knew what had occurred. The Innocence of his chylde had been Lost. Refusing to believe any of which Gregory told Violetta, her father spoke that He Knew the Ways of Men. She pleaded with him to allow her to come back; some men were not That way.

She asked how he could be so cruel—her father grew ashen, and knew not what to say. He knew that now was the time for her to know the truth, but it pained him to speak the words. Violetta cried with joy at that moment. She had found her father, and spake that she forgave him, as he should forgive Gregory and let her go to him that night.

But, he still refused her wishes, knowing that he would lose her forever if he allowed such a thing. Carried home, Violetta knew in her heart she would venture out that night. She slept the whole evening away—at the midnight hour, out she crept, to meet her lover.

Her father and a select few followed her into the glade, and waited with arrows drawn for Gregory to appear. And appear, he did not, just as Violetta’s father had predicted. Weeping for the loss of her innocence, Violetta cringed on her perch of stone.

Leaving her where she sat, the Fey waited for her to return to their home. But, Violetta did not—she joined with Gaia, and regained her purity. Now as a Guardian of the forest, she would weep no more for love lost.