Hidden Wings
MOTE Week 29, 2026
This week on MOTE, it was a week for prompt exchanges. I exchanged prompts with Becky Jones, who gave me: She stood and stared. The people flowing around her never saw it.
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Julia had never visited the Old Land before. Her ancestors had come from there, on all sides as far as she could tell. There was a story about some of them fleeing for the New World under a cloud, but the story had never been told in full, and she was sure that it had got mangled in the long-delay Chinese whispers of repeating the tale across the generations.
She was determined to see as much of the sights as possible before she flew back home. She had spent a week down in London, seeing the sights, visiting some of the museums. Heading towards the Midlands, she spent a day in Oxford before visiting Blenheim Palace. Stratford and the opportunity to see a Shakespeare play in the theatre named after him was something she just couldn’t miss. The day before she had been in Coventry – just visiting, she hadn’t been sent there – and had taken the opportunity to see the Cathedrals, both the bombed ruins and the new one built in its place.
Today was Birmingham. Julia had taken the train into the city centre, getting off at Birmingham New Street station. Heading out into the city, she bypassed the Cathedral – the guidebooks all suggested that it wasn’t an essential visit, being the old parish church for the area rather than being built for the purpose – and headed to Victoria Square.
Julia was intending to enjoy the architecture of the buildings before visiting the Museum and Art Gallery. She wasn’t entirely sure what she was going to do for most of the afternoon before she enjoyed a concert at the Symphony Hall.
As she prepared to walk up the steps beside the fountain, she halted. At the top was a statue of a woman, as per the guidebook. What wasn’t in the guidebook was the creature hovering above it. It was blue and green, with two pairs of gossamer wings. It looked like how a classical fairy was supposed to look.
No-one else around her saw it. All of them just passed by without stopping, just heading to wherever they were going.
Julia started back up the steps. At the top she sat on the first of the cannonballs, and sat there watching the fairy fly above the statue.
Suddenly the fairy stopped in mid-air, and shot off at a speed too fast to follow with the eye. Julia was disappointed; she was enjoying watching the fairy enjoy itself (or was that himself or herself, she didn’t know).
Time to visit the museum. As she was getting up, a figure appeared by her side. It was impossible to tell by sight whether it was male or female, having a hood over its head which shadowed the face.
“It is unusual to find a human able to observe the antics of the fair folk. Of what line are you?”
“I am Julia FitzJames. My line and heritage are of no relevance.”
“Perhaps. Perhaps not. My father spoke of a Hubert FitzJames. He eloped with Princess Lyra. They passed across the ocean rather than face the wrath of the King. Perhaps you are of that line.”
“I doubt it. My great-grandfather left the Old World in a hurry, but his wife was not a princess or any type of nobility.”
It smiled. “They would not be too open with friends and family, for even in other realms it is not done to merge the blood of fair folk with the short-lived. She would not have used her fair folk title for her own safety and that of her family.”
“If you speak true, then it would be foolish to claim to be their descendant.”
“Once that would be true. Now it is not. Prince Oberon inherited the throne after his father, but his line has failed. Now the only true descendants of the royal house are those of the line of Hubert FitzJames. The throne has been left vacant until either one of that line returns or we hear that it has also failed.”
“If that is so, should we be speaking of such matters in public?”
It laughed. “The short-lived are very rarely that observant. Our conversation will pass unnoticed by all others as long as we do not draw attention to ourselves.”
“I am not the heir. Others are truer descendants of Hubert.”
“But none are here. Under our laws, a vacant throne can only be granted to one present in the realm. A closer heir to the previous ruler cannot claim the throne from outside the realm. If you are the only one in this realm, you are the only legitimate claimant.”
“I have not proved that I am a descendant of your former king.” It was now time to end this conversation and depart before the situation became even more insane that it already was.”
“You have the look of a member of the royal house, you have the ability to see the fair folk, and your knowledge of your family history is consistent with the facts. It is enough for your claim to be put to the test. If your lineage is as I believe, that test will be passed, and you will become our Queen.”
Now was definitely the time to depart. “I do not believe that the rigmarole you propose will be necessary.”
“If not, then I will return you here, with my apologies. Otherwise, it has been far too long since the throne was filled. We need your presence to restore our realm to its former glory.”
Against her better judgement, Julia decided to play along. The stranger took her down a road – it wasn’t until they reached a crossroads that she realised it was called Waterloo Street – until they reached a small green area around a church.
“This is the closest place where I can create the portal for us.”
Julia didn’t understand, until suddenly they were somewhere else. Rather than being surrounded by the buildings of a city centre, they were in a beautiful woodland setting, with wooden structures around them.
Julia was so struck by the beauty of the surroundings that she failed to observe the people around her. They were also fair of face and form. The ladies had long hair down to their waists that flowed without constraint. The men had shorter hair, hanging only to their shoulders. Many had small wings attached to their shoulders. All had pointed ears, as had her escort, now that she had removed her hood.
Almost immediately, all knelt before her, all bar her escort, who produced a mirror. “The test has been passed. You should see for yourself.”
Julia looked into the mirror, to see a set of golden wings now sprouted from her upper back. She looked across at her escort, who had now knelt also.
“In other realms it is different, but here golden wings is the sign of the royal house. Only those descended from it whose lineage has bred true have them. You having them is the only proof we need that you are descended by a true line from Princess Lyra, and are hence our Queen.”
“But I cannot stay here. I have a life back home!” She was losing control, and heard it in her voice.
“By ancient law, the ruler of this realm may only travel within the human lands to the extremes of the territory governed by its ruler, and your writ in those lands over the fair folk is only valid to the same extent. That is why Princess Lyra went to the land in the New World she did; had she gone to the land to the north, the fair folk there would have returned her here at her father’s request.”
“I have family I must see and stay in touch with.”
“That isn’t difficult. They can come to the human lands to visit you, and you can go to the human lands to visit them. The human technology will allow you to communicate with them across vast distances when you are in the human lands. If they can access the fair folk kingdoms parallelling where they reside, you may use the magic of our realms to communicate with them.”
“But I am short-lived by your reckoning.”
“Only if you reside solely in the human lands. Once your home is in our realm you will gain the long-life of the fair folk. Only if you make your home permanently in the human lands once more will that gift fade.”
Julia kept trying to argue that she could not be Queen of the fair folk of the Midlands, but all to no avail. By evening she had accepted that she needed to return to the human lands to contact her family and explain why she could not return to them as she had planned.
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Head over to MOTE and enjoy the fun. I’m looking forwards to reading all the responses as they come in over the week. There’s a new set of prompts every Wednesday; if you’re interested in writing join us.