The Wishing Fountain

Adria had grown up well aware of the fae stories, the ones her grandmother had whispered late at night as the candle burned down closer and closer to the wick. In the morning, her father always made sure to shame them for wasting good wax, wax he would have to trade her mother’s beautiful needlepoints to reclaim. But Adria never cared and her grandmother always winked and she knew all was well.

Those fae stories always had little tricks and webs that ensnared a maiden such as she. Little dimples in the rules, slight depressions that turned the wording into a trick rather than a truth.

But as Adria grew older she also grew more cunning. She knew that those tricky poems would be no match for her. 

When she reached the age of eighteen, she found her body to suddenly be that of a beautiful young woman. The kind of raven haired beauty that wanderers and bards sang songs of praise toward. And Adria, for all of her wisdom and all of her cunning, learned that all she wanted in her life was to bask in that time forever.

She was no pampered princess, not like the snarky girls at school liked to say. And certainly not in the way that the Baron’s daughter on the great hill was a princess. No, Adria worked for a living. She fetched eggs in the morning and milked her prized cows and did needlepoint by the candlelight while her father still sighed about their wasted wax, though it was her crafts that bought the candles now.

She had watched her mother, graced with the same raven-haired, honey-eyed beauty as she, slowly lose hold of it as she aged. Her back hunched with the weight of the milk buckets, her hands gnarled and tore as she worked her embroidery through long hours of the night. 

By thirty, her mother was no better and no worse looking than any other mother in her village.

Adria knew she did not want that life for herself. She was certainly fine with the labor that her life entailed, but she refused to watch her looks turn grey and stooped year after year.

And so, she once again asked her grandmother to tell her the tale of the young maiden and the fountain of fortune and youth.

Her grandmother’s rheumy eyes had glinted, more than happy to impart the stories onto her grandchild once more, the girl sitting at her feet and head laying on her lap just as she did as a youth.

“In the days of old, when our land was still young and the men still walked side-by-side with the fae, there was a wishing fountain hidden well and deep in the Mercurial Forest, an ancient green thing with trees that towered more than ten times the height of the tallest man.

“This fountain was told to grant a wish to whoever was brave enough to find it, as the Forest was called Mercurial due to its constant changing of pathways and desire trails. On any day, a young hunter might enter and shoot for his family’s meal. By the sun’s set, the paths would be gone and the hunter would be swallowed by the forest to live forever and on, never to be seen again.

“But, on occasion, the Mercurial Forest would part and offer a path to the most cunning, most daring of maidens–and maidens alone–allowing them to traverse the forest to find the fountain and beg of it a wish.

“But the fountain made its home in a Mercurial Forest, and the fountain itself had grown just as mercurial as its home. And if a maiden requested something it did not like, it would grant it in a way that would leave her wishing she had never asked.”

Her grandmother had reached out to pet her hair. Adria shivered with the feeling, leaning back into those weathered hands through the story.

Until she felt a sharp pain and watched as her grandmother dangled a long, silvery strand of hair in front of her face.

She turned back to her grandmother to see the old woman smiling a gummy smile. “Your first grey hair! Oh, my dear you are truly a woman now!”

Adria felt the opposite of her grandmother’s delight. Dread pooled deep in her stomach and she knew she had to move now, lest she lose the beauty she had come to rely upon. “Where is this Mercurial Forest located, Grandmother?” she asked in what she hoped was an innocent way.

Her grandmother looked at her knowingly. “Do not tell me you plan to enter the forest to ask for a wish from the fountain. You know better than to do something so dangerous.”

Adria shook her head, a blush upon her face at being so transparent. “Of course not. I simply wish to know for when I am one day spinning these tales for my own children.”

The two women stared at each other for a long moment before Adria broke eye contact, the blatant lie too much even for her. 

Her grandmother’s knowing look did not go away, but she sighed and indulged her granddaughter once more. “The Mercurial Forest is said to be just on the other side of the Yellow Wood just out of town. You can only find it if you are looking for it, and you can only enter it if you are brave enough to dare. The trees will swallow you whole without thinking twice and the fae that still dwell there will cook you for dinner without batting an eye. Please, my child. Do not enter.”

Adria acquiesced, though she knew in her heart of hearts that she would be entering the forest the day after the next. Just beyond the Yellow Wood? To think it had been a quarter day’s walk all this time!

Two days hence, Adria packed a small sack for herself, filling it with a hunk of cheese and a few apples. The stories did not speak of how long it took those maidens to make it to the fountain and back, but she planned on being home for supper.

On her way out, she thought twice and retrieved a spool of brilliant crimson string from her collection before heading out into the burgeoning dawn.

The Yellow Wood was easy to find. She had grown up swinging on the trees with the other children in the village. She crossed through them with barely a thought, the sun still shining brightly down through the foliage. The leaves cast everything in a warm golden tint, the shade of which lent itself to the name of the forest.

Just when she began to doubt that she would make it to the end and come across the supposed Mercurial Forest, she noticed the trees ahead turn a deep green instead of gold, and the lowest branches rose more than twice her height into the sky. 

That must be it. The fae forest was just ahead.

At the first tree, she unwrapped her crimson spool and tied it to a branch on the edge of her childhood trees. She began to walk deeper, leaving a trail of bloody red string behind her in hopes she could use it to find her way out once again.

I am brave, she told herself, chanting silently to the trees so they would open for her. I am brave and cunning and a beautiful maiden. I am all of those things you love and I am all of those things that the world seeks to destroy. Allow me to find the wishing fountain, for I am daring and brave and cunning. I am brave. I am brave and cunning and a beautiful maiden. I am all of those things you love and I am all of those things that the world seeks to destroy. Allow me to find the wishing fountain, for I am daring and brave and cunning. I am brave…

And so on she went, entering deeper and deeper into those viridian trees, forcing her feet to be sure and her resolve to not waver. Not even as the sun was blotted out and the shadows grew thick enough to feel. Not even as she heard little giggles from the foliage coating the ground, perhaps from the fae of the wood or perhaps from her own mind.

Just when her spool was about to end and her legs were about to crumble, the Mercurial Forest opened up and, there, in a brilliant gleam of early afternoon sunlight, was that wishing fountain that she had first heard of as a small child.

She ran to it, her legs wobbling as she did. She collapsed beside it, almost falling into its shallow depths. She stopped herself just in time, unsure what a full submersion in such a powerful artifact would do.

Instead, Adria simply whispered to the fountain her secret wish, begging it to grant her eternal beauty and eternal youth. To never wither and grow old the way the women in her town were wont to. For none in her village to ever watch her shrivel away. To never again find a grey hair falling amidst her black tresses. For never a wrinkle to grace her high forehead, and her lips to never lose their perfectly pink plumpness.

The fountain listened to all of this and more, watching and learning as the young maiden poured her secret fears and deepest desires into it. It drank her up, acknowledging this beautiful child beside it. When her hand dangled in its waters, it decided to do as she wished and grant her that beauty and youth.

Adria pulled her hand back from the fountain and suddenly had the knowledge of what she must do, knowledge that the fountain itself must have imparted to her while her pleas were being said. She shivered with delighted anticipation at the knowledge that her wish was to be granted, and stripped off her day dress and corset and lay down in the fountain, bare as the day she had been born.

She let the shallow water wash across her, felt its glittering lightness as she ducked her head beneath the surface and opened her eyes to the late afternoon sky. The soon-to-be-setting sun was brilliant through the crystalline waters, and she felt peace and hope like she had never before known.

Once Adria had bathed in the fountain as much as she felt she needed, she took several large gulps of the water, coating every part of her with its essence. She then climbed out and lay upon the grass to dry herself in the last vestiges of the afternoon light.

As soon as she could, she dressed and nodded her thanks to the fountain. No matter the safety she felt in such a place, she did not want to be caught after dark.

Adria tugged on her string and began to follow it back, her walk much quicker this way. This time, she did not notice those thick shadows. She didn’t hear the louder peals of laughter and high-pitched giggles from the forest folk who had watched her bathe and knew of her request. 

She just continued on, her stomach grumbling and ready for the stew she knew her grandmother would have prepared for her.

Just before the forest’s edge, she grew hungry enough to want to retrieve an apple as a snack. She opened her pack and was surprised to see that all of her food was gone, a fine layer of dust all that remained.

Her shock did not last long. She simply smiled to herself, sure the fair folk had gotten into her bag while she was bathing in the fountain. If that gift was enough to keep her safe in the forest, then she could survive without food a little longer.

Adria finally reached the end of the Mercurial Forest and found where she had tied her crimson string at the beginning. She untied it from the branch and wrapped it all up in her pack before strolling into her beloved Yellow Wood.

Finally, Adria noticed something was amiss. These trees she knew like the back of her hand were significantly taller than they had been just that morning. The low branches that tangled in her hair were more than two heads above hers now, high enough that she would need a boost to climb into them. And the trunks were thicker than she had ever known them to be.

Bewildered, Adria walked faster. She made it to the edge of the forest in record time and all but ran up the knoll to overlook her village.

What she saw made no sense. Below, where before were the small cottages with their thatched roofs, stood great stone homes instead, many more than two single homes tall. She had never seen such dwellings, not even belonging to the Baron and his daughter.

She ran toward the center of town, where all of the summer festivals of her childhood had been held. She looked for the first person she knew, or any person at all.

Luckily, she saw her grandmother hauling water up from the well.

“Grandmother,” she called, running toward her. The old woman turned and looked at her, eyes clear. 

Adria stopped short. Though this woman was nearly identical to the woman who had raised her, this was certainly not her grandmother. Her grandmother had possessed eyes rheumy with cataracts for Adria’s entire life.

The woman-who-was-not-her-grandmother looked at her as though she had seen a ghost. “My child, what is your name?”

“Adria,” she said, slightly out of breath.

The elderly woman’s breath caught in her throat and her eyes instantly welled with tears. She touched a hand to the papery skin of her chest, looking Adria up and down. “Adria?” she said softly.

Adria nodded. “Yes. Who are you? Do you know where my grandmother is?”

The old woman’s tears grew heavy. “Adria, it cannot be you. It simply cannot be.”

She grew confused, flustered and bewildered by this line of questioning. “And why not? Where is my grandmother, you hag!”

The woman just shook her head in sorrow. “I am sorry, Adria. This… I don’t know how to act. I don’t know what to say when confronted with something such as this.” She took a deep breath in. “Your grandmother died decades ago.”

Adria stopped in her tracks, her tirade dying in its tracks. When she spoke again, her voice was very small. “What do you mean? She was just here this morning.”

The elderly woman just gave her a pitying look. “You weren’t here this morning. You weren’t even here this decade. My child, it has been almost a century since you have been seen.”

Adria backed away in shock. “You lie.”

“I wish I did. You left one morning with a sack of apples and were never seen again. Your grandmother died shortly after, blaming herself. I was born two years after you disappeared. Our parents missed you so much, but in their grief they decided they needed another daughter to take care of. And so, here I am.”

Adria shook her head, not able to comprehend that this old woman was her sister… but, yes. Those honeyed eyes, the gnarled flesh of the same hands their mother had. The way she scrutinized Adria was the same way she herself looked others up and down.

Her sister seemed to know that she finally understood. “I am sorry, my dear sister. You went to wish in the fountain and the fae magic did not pity you.”

“I wished to be eternally young,” the beautiful woman said in anguish, finally comprehending the disaster that had befallen her. “I wished to keep my looks forever, for the village to never witness me wrinkle, and it gifted me with my beauty but took away my life, my childhood. I never got to see my family grow old. I never got to know my younger sister.”

The elderly woman looked at her with something akin to pity. “And what a life you were destined to have. And what a life of mine you had to miss. Come. I will introduce you to your great grand-nieces and -nephews.”

Adria followed her, away from her beauty and carefree childhood and into a world that no longer recognized her.