"Ask any questions you need," he said easily, turning to the desk. "We are students working in the cryptozoology, zoology, magic, and anthropology sectors and we are simply trying to understand the way beings and their magic work to give us a better understanding of different races." He hesitated, looking up at her as he ran his hand through the dark oak hair. "If that makes any sense."
"I see," she said slowly, perched uncomfortably on the edge of the chair. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear self-consciously, but her voice had a strange sense of amusement to it. "I find it funny how humans such as yourself always seem to think that faeriefolk are vastly different beings." She met his gaze with a raised brow, almost as if challenging him. "You and I are not as different as our appearances would lead one to believe."
"Differences and similarities don't mean much to me as it might other people, he said slowly, looking up at her with a curious gleam in his eyes. "But certain attributes lead me to be more interested in you than other humans. If we're being honest, humans are incredibly boring and weak compared to others."
She was thoughtful, her fingers drumming on the side of the chair thoughtfully as she considered him. Her wings seemed to relax, draping lazily over her shoulders rather than folding tightly against her back. If he cared to study them, he would see that they contained the same intricate pattern as a dragonfly's. "I don't know about that. Your kind seems remarkably developed considering you don't hold the benefit of magic," she said easily. "However, I will say that humans, or at least a majority of the ones I have met, lack a sense of humor. On the way here, I noticed a man washing clothing in the river and I floated behind him and took from his pile of clean garments and returned them to the dirty pile behind his back. It went on for about five minutes before he realized what was happening, and he seemed very upset with me."
Eden raised an eyebrow critically, eyeing his notepad with a degree of suspicion. "Pixies do," she corrected, almost sternly. She tucked a lock of her almost white hair behind her ear, biting her lip thoughtfully. "Fairies are our more... ethereal cousins. Anyway, we tend to enjoy that sort of thing, despite the damage it does to our reputation. It seems that whatever designed us oriented our powers around confusion."
He shook his head, mentally cursing himself. "Ah.. Sorry for the confusion. I tend to mess those up much more than I should." He bit his tongue in thought. "Can you describe your powers? At what age you began to control?"
She frowned, looking down at her hands thoughtfully. "At this point, I can scarcely remember," she said with a self-conscious laugh. "I think we're born with it. Our natural state is flying, you see; we learn to fly before we know how to walk and talk. If you consider that magic, I suppose I would say I've been doing it for as long as I can remember." She paused, playing with a silver ring on her pinkie finger as she spoke. "As for the actual 'powers', as you call them... well, Pixie magic goes by many names, but the most common one for us is 'Enryli'. Everyone's Enryli is a little different and it fluctuates based on your personality and interests. So, for example, if I were extroverted and bold, my Enryli may help me to be bright and dynamic. If I were introverted and withdrawn, however, my abilities may be more understated." She hesitated, before tapping her mouth with her finger thoughtfully. "I'm sorry, it's a little hard to categorize our abilities," she admitted eventually. "I suppose I should just say that it isn't necessarily restricted to one area because we are constantly learning new magic. Our... repertoire, for want of a better word, is constantly expanding. My tutor, for example, is able to create items out of thin air that I could only dream of. She could shrink herself down or grow as large as the tallest building in town."
He listened intently, writing on the notepad as he nodded slowly. His eyes drifted back and forth between her and the paper. He cocked his head, his soft eyes concentrated. He stuck out his tongue as he worked. It wasn't intentional. "I see.. She must be pretty powerful, then. That's quite interesting. How would you describe pixie communities?"
She hesitated, rubbing her leg as she tried to figure out how to explain. Her golden eyes darted to the ground, and she frowned as she considered her answer. "Well, first of all, Pixies don't really have parents. I mean... obviously they do, but not in the way that humans do. We are born and at birth, we are assigned a... I suppose you might call them a tutor here. That's the term I use with humans. In our language, we refer to them as Alyndars. They are generally centuries old and they act as our teachers and guides. Any singular Alyndar can have hundreds of Tyria at a time." She paused before clarifying quickly. "Tyria are the students. Alyndar Aspen is my 'tutor'. I am a Tyria to Alyndar Aspen. Does that make sense?"
He murmured to himself as he wrote it down, setting down the pencil for a moment as he looked up at her. "Got it! Well.. It makes sense to me. Do you keep contact with parents or..?'
She pursed her lips, looking up at the ceiling as she tried to figure out her response. "I suppose the short answer would be not really. When our kind generally has children, they are still practically children themselves. Alyndar Aspen is 637 years old, and she is considered a little older than middle-aged for our kind. If Pixies have children, they'll generally have them at about... oh, I would say 80 - 100. To humans, that would be like having children at eight or nine years old. Our parents are generally ill-equipped to deal with any sort of child. Generally, I think, they are relieved to give us to the Alyndars."
Sam blinked, his brows furrowed. He wrote, nonetheless. "Oh.. Wow. It's so long yet so short at the same time.." He murmured, rambling to himself. "That's amazing."
She allowed herself a small smile, leaning back in the chair slightly, her hands resting on her knees. "I'm glad you think so. Most just view us as irresponsible, but I think many people fail to realize that every Pixie eventually goes through being an Alyndar in their life as well. They just do it later."
She laughed lightly, shaking her head as she sat up. "It's impolite to ask a lady her age," she teased, her eyes flickering up to his. "But in human years, I'm about 21. Pixie years, I'm 163."
He chuckled embarressedly, rolling his eyes. His laugh was light and gentle. He looked up at her playfully. "It's studies, Eden. You must understand."
"I'm sure," she said sarcastically, folding her arms with a smug expression, her head tilting as she considered him. Her finger tapped her lips as she thought for a moment before she opened her mouth to speak. "Any more questions?"
He looked over the paper, with a slow nod of satisfaction, his eyes thoughtful. "Not today. Would it be alright to come back soon, though? It's always alright to say no."
She stood up quickly, her wings unfolding in preparation, catching the light and revealing the pearly quality of the material. "Of course. Do you know how to reach me?"
