It was Samhain, the day when the veils between the worlds weakened, the day when ghosts and the fey wander earth. The small town of Sléibhtiúil was alive with the annual Samhain fair. Stalls of potions and small treats lined the streets, and a bonfire lit in the square. Adults prepared for their trip to see the humans. Teenagers looked after children, albeit grudgingly. Children pulled on their minder's hands, asking for treats, for a go on the carousel, or a look in the lake to see the mer celebrating in their own way. And the older children smile because this is a day of festivity.
The adults found rips in the fabric of the universe, disappearing into other worlds. The children, the ones not yet reached immortality, were alone. Grinning, they begin telling stories around the embers of the fire. They tell first of stories about people who do things without magic until the youngest listeners have fallen asleep. Then they tell stories of angels and demons. These two tribes of fey were so violent, The Creator Goddess sealed them both in their own worlds, unable to hurt her favorite children, the faeries. They listened to tales of the wars between heaven and hell, and of the warriors of both worlds, questing for items whose worth was lost to time. They talked about the brutal angel of blood, a knight whose very name chilled their blood. Then they noticed her.
There was a girl standing at the gate of town, drenched to the bone but not shivering. A couple children screamed, thinking they had summoned the angel of blood by talking about them. But she stepped forward revealing that she was, in fact, a faery. She had grey eyes, and long black hair tucked behind her pointed ears. She looked no older than fourteen, so the eldest boy invited her to sit by the fire. She joined them, but did not sit. She stood facing the glow, drying her arms and front. The boy offered her a blanket to dry off and she accepted.
"Our town is in the middle of nowhere. How did you get here?" he asked as he handed it to her.
"I teleported. I was going from my village, and noticed lights on the top of the mountain."
He didn't believe her, because there were no villages for miles, defiantly not within sight. But the blatant lie just made her story more interesting.
"How could you teleport? You are young, your magic cannot have matured enough to allow you to use such advanced spells."
"Oh, I reached immortality a lifetime ago. I just don't look my age."
"If you have reached maturity, why aren't you on Earth?"
"What? Is it Samhain? Yes, it is. Well I guess I just lost track of time, besides Earth is boring."
The others gasped, because their whole lives they had been told that Earth was the most amazing place. They were shocked, and a little disgusted. To them the girl was either a liar, or an adventure-addict, which to them was one of the worst things to be. But to the boy, a person who wanted nothing but to leave the confines of the small town and explore the great unknown of Faerie, she was a treasure chest of stories. They talked, and talked, and talked until dawn. The first trickle of adults were arriving, and the children going to their parents. The boy could see his mother, but before going he had to say one last thing.
"My name is Joseph Breen, yours?"
"Jessamine. Jessamine Rose," the girl smiled, eyes sparkling
Later, Joseph would write to every village in the kingdom to ask about Jessamine, to find out where she really came from. But they all replied that nobody with her name had ever lived in their jurisdiction. It seemed as if she had appeared out of thin air.