"Tears of the Widows" by Haley N. ´Everlorn´ Baker

            Long ago, though our histories don’t like to document it, magic was a part of our world. It didn’t just hide in cupboards or wells like one might see today, it was an ordinary occurrence. It would not be surprising to walk down a road and greet a fae, two elves, a dwarf, and a giant in one day. It is the remnant of magic and its beings that cause some of what we consider to be “natural” happenings

            There were originally ten tribes of fae. Two of the tribes suddenly started warring with each other. No one was ever sure who started it; although some say it was a witch or a troll, but everyone knew it was unjust. These were the proudest clans of the fae, and they refused to stop. They battled across the globe with magic weapons that would only harm the enemy troops and effects. The women and children were kept safe in the houses of the other tribes. The war raged for an entire generation, until all the adult men of both tribes were wiped out. When the last two men killed each other, everyone was happy it was over and sad it happened in the first place. The eight remaining fae clans pledged that no feuds would put them at war with each other, and the dead were turned into stardust and were use to fertilize the earth. The saddest point in fae history was over.

            It was not over, however, for some. The widows were devastated by the loss of their husbands. A fae only has one soul mate, and the loss of that soul mate so suddenly and senselessly drove the women to madness. They left their homes and children, walking at night across the plains, crying for their husbands. Their tears fell like a soft rain, covering all where they had walked with fine droplets. The two tribes walked all together, moving as one in their mourning. Nothing could persuade them to give up their vigil. No one spoke to the widows, and they spoke to no one. Other tribes adopted the uncared for children and raised them as their own, thus reducing the number of clans permanently to eight.

            When things of magic were being persecuted, and all magical beings had to leave this world, the widows were asked to go. They refused, preferring their infinite mourning. Away from the source of magic, the fae women wasted away until nothing but the part of their spirits consumed by sorrow remained.

            Even today their spirits are still here. In the morning, there is a light dusting of water on everything outside. Scientists call it dew, but we know they are really the tears of ghostly widows. If you are extremely lucky, you can wait until the dead of night and see transparent forms walking through the grass, crying forever for lost love.