It was a bright, sunny day. Bees buzzed along Pip's garden, a couple of faeries hummed above the cucumber flowers, and the strong scent of lilac trees rode the gentle breeze. Pip sat on the old rocking chair beside his back door, resting a cold sweetberry tea on the chair's arm, and gently pushing himself backward while letting his toes play in the grass and clover beside his porch. The kind of moment when decade-old memories roll through your inner eyes.

Pip was a young boy, about eight years old, when the glowing lanterns of the Great Meadow caught his eye. There weren't as many back then, and only Old Meir and his son Lucias knew how to light them. Pip and his mother had just moved to the Lane, and Lucias was the first child to reach out to Pip as a new friend. He was two and a half years older than Pip, which to kids seemed like decades — and Pip was grateful for someone to show him the wonders of this new land he had come to. But, to Pip and most others, Lucias was an odd boy. He spent most of his time in the woods or exploring the caves on the other side of Copperscale Ridge. He very rarely wore a shirt, and never, ever, wore shoes — even when he really should have. He said the faeries didn't like them.

What struck Pip the most odd, however, was that even though Lucias lit the lanterns every night, he had a greater love of darkness. In those days, the house Pip and his mother lived in was on the other end of the Lane, and Meir and Lucias' house was across from them, and from Pip's window he could see Lucias often sitting outside at night, staring at the stars.

One day after school, the two boys ventured along the ridge path and down the lower pass to a cave that Lucias had made into his own little fortress. Pip was entranced by how nimble and light Lucias hopped along the ground while his own boots kicked stones and stumbled on the roots. It was that moment, and that memory that stuck with Pip the rest of his life, that convinced him that Lucias was at least part Fae.

And then they got to the cave. Pip was surprised to see it was decorated with flowers and sticks and the bones of several animals. It was the first time Pip had ever seen bones that were not part of a roast or feastbird. They scared him a little. When they went into the cave, it got very dark, and quite cool inside, even though it was warm and sunny outside. Lucias pulled shut a curtain made of grass and reeds before they went farther. The cave bent inward and downward, away from the opening and any light left from outside. Pip's eyes tried to adjust, but there wasn't enough light to see where he was walking, so he froze still. It was as though his friend sensed his fear — and Pip felt Lucias' hand take his. It was an odd feeling; no one except his mother had held his hand to guide him since he was a baby.

"It's ok. Trust me." Lucias' voice was small and quiet, but still echoed softly across the close rocks. "There's a little step down right in front of us. I'll help you." Pip could hear Lucias' feet splat from a short jump into something like wet mud. That sound echoed softly too.

"Luc... am I going to get muddy?" Pip's voice echoed louder than anything yet. "I don't think my mother is going to like it if..."

"Shh," Lucias interrupted. "Talk softly —" he paused — "but yeah, you might, a little. It's just damp, not wet."

"I can't see at all," Pip whispered. "I'm scared."

"I'm your eyes. The step is right in front of you, just like a step at your house."

Pip let his foot dangle over the edge; it felt as though he were stepping off a cliff. He gripped Lucias' hand tightly, and then his boot hit the ground — harder and sooner than he'd anticipated.

"See — you're down." Lucias smiled in the darkness. "The rest is fairly level. I've cleared all the big and sharp rocks."

Pip's confidence rose noticeably. He felt Lucias' hand tug him. "Where are we going, anyway?" Pip asked.

"You'll see." Lucias laughed. "I mean it."

A minute later, as they rounded a sharp turn and the floor sloped down more, Pip's eyes began to perceive some light. Pale, blue-green, barely there — but light.

"Is there light down here?" Pip asked excitedly.

"A little. For now. I usually keep it dark, but I'll make it brighter for you. Oh, duck under this rock — it's really big, I had to dig under it."

Pip's eyes widened at the scene in front of him. Deep into the mountain, behind the darkness, was another world entirely. The cave opened into a large cavern, lit by the thin glow of sleeping faeriefire. It was in bowls, not lanterns, and lay still instead of dancing. There were many of them, though, enough that the glow was significant. Pip could make out what looked like water in the center of the cavern floor, and a crude wooden structure off to their left. The ground seemed to be covered in something soft, but not mud, and several faeries flitted above the water, their own soft glow reflecting off its surface.

Lucias sat next to several of the bowls and began to hum. He gently touched the surface of one bowl, then another, and danced his fingers above them. To Pip's surprise, the faeriefire leapt to life in both bowls, and twisted and darted around Lucias' hands. The cavern grew instantly bright, making Pip blink.

"...wow..." was all Pip could say.

"This is where I'm going to live when I'm a grown up," Lucias said proudly. "I don't need dishes and clothes to wash, or a roof that leaks. Or anybody telling me when to go to bed."

"...this is amazing... I never knew this could be..." Pip trailed off, looking at the faeries and the water. Lucias hopped over to the trickling shoreline, and motioned for him to follow.

"Come check it out. This is the coldest, clearest, most delicious water ever. It's — oh, take your shoes off first. The faeries are afraid of them. It's safe here, the lichen is soft to walk on."

Pip was bewildered and looked down. "The what?"

"Li-ken. And some cave moss. I'm growing more over there—" Lucias pointed to the wooden hut — "to make a bed out of. It's magical, doesn't even need light to grow."

Pip took off his boots and socks near the entrance of the cavern, somewhat worried that they might be smelly. But they weren't bad, and Lucias didn't even seem to notice. The cave floor was cool and soft and slightly damp. His toes felt cold, but he didn't say so. He walked toward the water, and, surprising to him again, it wasn't slippery as he expected.

"Here — kneel down and cup your hands like this—" Lucias showed his hands together — "and get a drink."

Pip copied him. It wasn't the first stream he had ever drank from, but it was certainly the coldest. He dropped most of the first handful, then tried again. It was, indeed, the coldest, clearest, most delicious water he had ever tasted.

The faeries flitted over and teased the boys' hair and faces, glittered and chuckled, and one snapped Pip's suspenders then flew away.

"Hey... why did they do that? It kinda hurt." Pip asked.

"I guess they aren't used to seeing clothes." Lucias motioned to his chest, which was bare, as always.

"I think I'll keep my shirt on... it's a bit chilly down here," Pip said cautiously. "How do you do it?"

"I like it cold," Lucias answered. "The summer heat bothers me. I think it's because I was born in the Farnorths."

Pip's eyes widened again. "Do you mean... you aren't from here either?"

"Nope. Not originally. I was still a kid when we moved here." Lucias smiled again.

"You're only ten now," Pip smirked.

"Almost eleven!" Lucias laughed, and it echoed along the cavern walls. He playfully splashed a handful of water at Pip.

Pip scrunched up. "Ohhh that's cold!" and they both laughed and echoed. The faeries came around and whizzed about frantically, and chittered into their faces. Pip couldn't understand what they said, but was sure that they were being scolded.

"Alright, alright, I know," Lucias whispered. He turned to Pip — "We don't want to wake up the bats... or the trolls."

Pip caught his breath in his mouth. "Ba... what... trolls???" Pip stuttered as quietly as he could. He had only ever heard stories of how bad trolls could be; he had never seen one. But then, he had never seen a Brownie until he moved here.

"Eh, the ones we have here are small compared to the ones in the Farnorths. Still dangerous though."

Lucias paused a moment. He looked at Pip, whose eyes and mouth were both as wide as could be. Then he grinned — "Speaking of getting eaten... I'm getting hungry. How about you?"

Pip wasn't quite sure what to say, but slowly sat down, closed his mouth, and took a deep breath. He looked around and wondered how long they had been down here. "Actually — I'm starving," Pip laughed. "What do you do for food here? Do you hunt? I saw bones..."

"Hunt? Ugh no! I don't eat meat." It was the first time Pip had ever seen Lucias react in such an offended, almost angry way.

"I'm sorry — I saw the bones up there, I..."

Lucias had a strange look, but it did not stay on his face long. "Oh those — I found them. I think it was a fox. That stuff is fascinating, I study them, draw them. But I didn't kill it — never." He paused. "I usually just go home. Or go to the bakery — Hester has the most scrumchamazic pies and veggie tarts ever anywhere!"

Pip could not disagree with that.

They stood up and Lucias pointed toward the entrance. "Go put your boots on, I'll put the faerieflames to sleep."

Pip looked down at his feet. They didn't feel cold anymore. "I think — I'm gonna try leaving them off."

Lucias was the one surprised this time. "Well, then I'll bring a flame with us. I should probably leave one up there anyway, in case you want to come back."

"Can I come back?"

"Of course," Lucias answered, almost before Pip finished asking. Then he reached into the little hut and pulled out a shoulder satchel, and handed it to Pip. "Here. It'll be easier to carry your boots in this." Then he waved his fingers over one of the flame bowls, and the faerieflame settled down.

"How do you do that?" Pip asked in wonder.

"It's not hard, if you are feeling right. Come to think of it, the Meadfeast is probably starting by now — when we get there, I'll show you how."

"...really?" Pip was surprised again. He had lost count of how many things had surprised him this afternoon.

Years later, it was this afternoon that Pip would look back on as the moment that his entire life had changed. He found a friend whom he would greatly admire and who would teach him the very skill he is most known for today — lighting the lanterns around the Great Meadow. Many of which are lit by the very same faerieflames that had been in that cave that day. He also came to have a greater appreciation for the faeries, for the natural wonders and magic that surrounds us, for feeling the moss beneath your feet, and for family and friends who may even seem a bit odd at first.