Where the Veil Grows Thin

It was one of those nights again.

Fires blazed high into the sky, wine flowed in endless streams, drums pounded, and laughter rolled loudly between the olive trees of the thiasus.

Satyrs leapt over the flames, nymphs and dryads sang at the top of their lungs, while Dionysus sprawled half across his barrel, roaring with delight as someone repeated the same tune on the aulos flute for the fifteenth time.

Only one figure sat apart from the chaos. 

A young satyr, leaning back against a wine cask, arms folded behind her horns, yawning loudly as the fire flickered in her amber eyes.

“Here, sister, have another cup!” a passing maenad shrieked, shoving a goblet into her hand before spinning back into the wild dance.

“No thanks…” Melissa muttered, tossing it to the ground and letting the wine seep into the grass.

Festival. Trance. Madness. Ecstasy.

Nothing new. No surprises, no challenges. Only the endless cycle of noise and intoxication.

Her heart longed for something else, though she couldn’t say what.

“I’m going to lose my mind,” she murmured as she stood.

She left the frenzy behind, slipping through groves and over hidden paths until she reached the quieter edges of the realm.

No festival. No music.

Only the rustle of trees, the murmur of a stream, the crack of branches under her hooves.

She wandered deeper into the night, until she came to a dense forest, where the veil between her world and the world of mortals grew thin.

And sometimes cracked open.

As she strolled along the edge of the woods, arms folded behind her back, hooves scuffing through the leaves, something flickered at the corner of her eye.

“Huh? What's this?“

She stopped and tilted her head, peering through the branches.

Beyond them stood a small house, and through its open window, she could see something flickering inside.

A glowing box.

In front of it crouched a young man, frowning as he tapped furiously at some rattling board.

“Why won’t this work?!”, he growled in frustration.

Melissa frowned. “A mortal?”

She watched him rise to fetch a cup of coffee.

He yawned, returned, typed again, cursed again. Until finally he let his head sink onto the table and drifted into sleep.

Melissa tilted her head. “What a peculiar fellow!“

Suddenly, the veil thickened, the border between worlds closing again, and soon the house was gone.

“Hey! I wasn't finished watching“, Melissa protested, but the rift was gone.

The following night she crept back, more deliberately this time, waiting in the brush for the mist to thin again.

When the time had finally come, she peered toward the house again, but it still lay in darkness.

“Hmm… sleeping already?”

Suddenly came a muffled sound. A rustle, a thud, then a sharp, frightened chirp.

Something had fallen from the roof, landing squarely on the windowsill below.

The light snapped on, footsteps clattered down a staircase and the window opened.

Melissa craned her neck through the undergrowth for a better look.

His dark brown hair fell in loose strands to his shoulders, his blue eyes wided as he regarded the trembling bird with bewilderment.

The man carefully scooped it into his hands and carried it into the kitchen.

“What am I supposed to do now?!” he muttered anxiously before emptying a breadbasket and placing the bird inside.

When he sprinkled some breadcrumbs on the bird, it turned its head away and squeaked even louder, as if offended.

Melissa shaked her head.  “Wrong food, silly…”

He stood there helplessly for a while before an idea came to him. He hurried outside, shovel in hand.

Immediately, Melissa pulled her head back deeper into the bushes.

”And now?”, she whispered, still observing him.

Moments later she saw him digging up the earth, pull out a worm, and return triumphant.

Melissa grinned, before the veil closed once more.

“Ha. Not bad“, she admitted while slowly heading back to her realm.

But she kept coming back. 

The next day.

And the next.

Until one day, the bird was ready to fly.

When it was set free, it promptly left him a parting gift on his head after vanishing into the sky.

Melissa stifled a laugh behind her hand, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

And yet, something warm stirred in her chest when she saw him smile.

The more she watched, the stronger that feeling grew.

It was no longer just amusement, no longer just distraction.

But she couldn’t name it.

One evening a car pulled up, and a woman stepped out.

Long hair, an elegant dress, a beautiful face. And a basket of pastries in her hands.

Melissa narrowed her eyes as she watched the woman approach him.

“For you, Lucius. May I call you Lucius? Welcome to the neighborhood!”

“Lucius…” she whispered, testing the name.

“You bought this house so far away from the rest of the village, it must get lonely here, doesn’t it?” the stranger cooed, leaning close, her hand brushing his arm.

Melissa pouted. “Oh no, sweetheart. You won’t take him that easily.”

She snapped her fingers and a gust of wind tore through the veil, vines curling around the visitor’s ankles.

The woman stumbled and fell flat into the dirt, pastries scattering everywhere.

Melissa smirked. “Whoops!” 

Lucius blinked in confusion at the mess.

The woman stammered an apology, cheeks blazing, then scrambled back into her car and drove off in a hurry.

Melissa rolled in the underbrush with laughter. “Oh, that was divine!”

But afterwards a strange emptiness crept into her heart.

“I barely know him…” she whispered, as if answering an unspoken question, before shaking her head.

“Nonsense! He’s just a mortal. Just light entertainment. Nothing more.”

Yet she returned.

Again and again.

Until one night, he descended into the cellar.

“Hmm… what’s he up to? I can’t see from here…”

She hesitated first, but then, for the first time ever, Melissa stepped through the veil.

On silent hooves she crept to the house, peering through a narrow side grate that gave her a view into the cellar.

He brushed dust from an old book and muttered something.

“…just missing the belladonna and the fly agaric, hmm…”

Before him lay a scrawled chalk circle, surrounded by scattered ingredients.

Melissa’s eyes widened, and she nearly burst into laughter.

“Well, well! A real wizard, who would have thought?”

Lucius sighed, rubbing his neck.

“Ah, I’m such an idiot. This won’t work anyway.”

Melissa’s grin spread wide, as an idea sparked.

“Oh, you’re wrong, my dear. It will work. Just not the way you think.”

She darted back into the mist, while Lucius glanced up toward the grate, convinced he’d heard something.

But Melissa was already back in her world, rehearsing her grand entrance.

“So… how should I appear?”

She stood before a pond that served as a mirror and cleared her throat.

“Tremble, mortal, for I am your new mistress!” She grimaced. “Hm. Too grim.”

With pursed lips, she struck a pose and tried a more husky voice.

“Well, handsome… do you really want me as your servant?”

Melissa broke into laughter instantly. “Oh, that’s awful. All right, option three: chaotic!”

She leapt into the air, flailing her arms. “Woohooo! Surprise! Here I am!” 

But she shook her head. “No, no, far too silly.”

Suddenly she fell quiet, staring at her own reflection.

Horns. Wild hair. Glowing eyes. A twitching tail.

For a fleeting moment, she grew pensive, almost sad.

And if he sees me like this? What if he’s afraid?

But then a crooked smile tugged at her lips.

“Oh, you know what, Lucius? I’ll just do everything at once. You’ll manage somehow.”

And so she waited.

Until the blood moon rose, its crimson light mingling with the evening sun.

Melissa crouched in the mist, her eyes gleaming.

“Well then, my little wizard…”

Her heart raced.

“Ready or not, here I come!”