Serendipity

It's a glorious thing when accidents work out in your favour instead of fouling things up.

The vaguely superstitious parts of my soul are wondering whether my own brush with grace had anything to do with my answer when Dae asked whether the Fae were real.

"Hard, quantifiable proof is scarce," I muttered, hunched over my work, "but anecdotal evidence tends to suggest yes, in places where the folklore is alive."

"Hm?"

And so I told him the story my tour guide in Ireland told us, about one little tree in the middle of a field, that there were plans to cut down and pave over, a road to build. "And accidents happened around the site, and petitions went round to leave the tree alone, because it was a place the Fae gathered and had been for as long as anyone remembered. Eventually there was enough hullabaloo that the road gained a bit of curve, the tree to bypass. And all was well. You may draw your own conclusions."

"Oh..."

Methinks I'll have company, walking the boundaries and warding the house, when we find one of our own.

Here's to the old tales.