Fae Sanctuary

Do

2 Peter 3:8
But do not forget this one thing, dear friends: With the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like a day

You

Ephesians 2:14-15
14 For he himself is our peace, who has made the two groups one and has destroyed the barrier, the dividing wall of hostility, 15 by setting aside in his flesh the law with its commands and regulations. His purpose was to create in himself one new humanity out of the two, thus making peace,

Believe?

John 10:16
And other sheep I have, which are not of this fold: them also I must bring, and they shall hear my voice; and there shall be one fold, and one shepherd.
Colossians 1:16
For by him all things were created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities, all things were created through him and for him.
Genesis 6:4
There were giants in the earth in those days; and also after that, when the sons of God came in unto the daughters of men, and they bare children to them, the same became mighty men which were of old, men of renown.

In

Jude: 4 For certain men have crept in unnoticed, who long ago were marked out for this condemnation, ungodly men, who turn the grace of our God into lewdness and deny the only Lord God and our Lord Jesus Christ

Fairies?

Exodus 20:5 You shall not bow down to them or serve them, for I the LORD your God I am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers on the children to the third and the fourth generation of those who hate me
 
Part 1 (Prequel)
Bella
More than One Hundred and seventy-five years ago!
The air is crisp and moist on Jaydon's skin. The streets, glistening in the moonlight. The rain illuminated by the lamplight. The winter cloud cover gave the evening the dark feel. The streets are crowded as everyone rushes around. As they head home for the evening. Jaydon goes unnoticed for what he is. Every being that passes has a distinct odor. Jaydon’s sensitive nose picks up information about each human from the smell they present as their routes intersect. The man, who at this moment clumsily crashes into the well-groomed gentleman. He uses that bump to pick the gentleman’s pocket, he is a street rat. The target, he is enveloped in the scent of paper, ink, and a hint of cigar smoke.
The woman he is talking to, dressed well, in the latest fashion. She is a whore. Jaydon can smell the floral water, she used to clean with, and where she cleaned. He also picks up the scent of the other men. The man's traditional wedding ring on his left hand is no problem for either. Jaydon moves on. Not the thoughts he came here to observe.  He did not want to think of selfishness, hatred, greed, evil, and disturbing ways. The choices that blacken the soul emotions Jaydon is escaping.
He needs a reprieve from all that is his life. Jaydon fights the darkness that invades him the best he can. He pushes it away. It builds, to an aching, painful throb. The hate, greed, and wrongness in his world chews a deep hole he needs to fill. Jaydon closes his eyes searching for smells and energy that bring joy and happiness to the human world. The emotions that bring good feelings, smiles, laughter, comfort, joy, love. Things he so desperately needs to fill that hole.
The larger female behind him, the woman is a mother and smells of sugar cookies and dirt. Jaydon smiles at the image that comes to mind: an apron covered in flour, boys with frogs. The mother brandishing a wooden spoon at them. He shoves his hands in what appears to be the pockets of his long coat, holding onto those emotions. Tucking them away somewhere safe. The odor from the kerosene street lamps is making him nauseous. He quickens his crusade to get to an area with fewer lamps and the offending odor.
He needed time to think and breathe for himself. To get away, to think of anything other than his life. To feel any emotion that is safe, and healthy. The only place he could go where pure love, joy, and happiness can be attained. The human world. Very few in his world can follow him. He resents it, humans are disgusting. The way they cast their waste right out of their windows to the street. They let trash and garbage collect everywhere. Clothing hangs between buildings, and shanty shacks hap hazardously built are under them in the back streets. Perhaps that is the magic humans hold? Their energy.
Coming here always helps him cleanse his heart and forget. He would never understand how they live like this. How they are able to achieve such pure raw innocent emotions at the same time. Humans with their short lives, a weak and needy creature, can find endless wells of hope, joy, love, trust, security. No matter what their lives are like. Something Fae could not. Even with all the powers and magic they hold. He crosses from block to block observing.  Sleeping in the shanty shack back streets, are dirty under feed children, looking at him with wide eyes. In their sickened state, they can see what Jaydon truly is. The glamour hiding nothing, he does not care. Faces flare with excitement as they look at him. Amazing he thought as he absorbs their hope, excitement, and joy, provoked from seeing him. They probably will not live long enough to do anything with the hope, the virtue within them.
Catching the smell of death and sickness that is rather strong in this one back street distracts Jaydon as he steps from the muddy street to the planked sidewalk. His stomach rolls from the putrid smell. His nose wrinkles as he holds his breath. He stumbles when his foot catches on something soft. There is no yelp or cry of pain, so when Jaydon looks down into the large brown eyes of a little girl he is shocked. His boot tangled in a tattered blanket wrapped around her. He furrows his brow. From across the road he can hear the religious chants from the church. Bells chime from the towers, he blocks out the background noise of the bells. He considers the human girl for a moment before shrugging and setting to move on. When she speaks with broken English and a thick Italian accent, he stops.
“Are you the angel here to take mamma?”
Her lips have a bluish gray to them, her cheeks a bright red from the cold. Her face remains fixed as if her mother's death had no effect on her. He considers this unusual for such an immature, unproven being. He has seen strong healthy warriors crippled by the emotions felt for the ones they love. There is no shield or protection from such a weapon. Humans allow themselves to be governed by their emotions, the emotions he fights to knock down. That, he alone deals with, and it is a unique oddity.  An issue other Fae are able to circumvent.
Human’s hold onto their past. Treasuring it, things, places, people. Their memorials for the dead: Statues, paintings, tapestries that resemble those that they hold dear. Recording their roots with pride. The passing down of personal effects. A slight twinge pangs in Jaydon’s chest as he remembers why he is here. His mother hate for him. Humans, with their emotional attachments, has long fascinated Jaydon. He could not decipher his emotions from others. Is that why his mother thought of him as weak? His confusion?  He pushes those thoughts and feelings away.
“I am no angels child. Why do you not grieve for your mother?” He asks as if speaking to a warrior. The girl replies in Italian.
“I will meet her when it is my time to go home. This is a temporary separation of the body. Our souls are never far apart.” She looks past Jaydon at the church across the street. Jaydon wishes he could tell her it were true.  He has never studied human religion, and he has no desire to. Such a strong faith for a human, she is not saddened at her mothers lose. She did not fear death at a young age. Humans are so fragile, living such short periods of time. Their bodies weak, their minds, as well. The most intelligent could go crazy with the simplest of events. He snickers to himself thinking of the things he has done for his mother. To gain her love, maybe he is weaker than a human. Jaydon kneels sitting on his calves. His elbows rest on his knees. Knowing she could see his wings, he flaps them.
“Do these look like the wings of your angels?” He says in Italian. She nods, telling him no.
“Then you see I cannot take your mother to your heaven child. For, I do not hold the same belief as you do. I do not have a creator?” The brown-eyed girl shrugs. He could see the rose coloring to her nose and cheeks, is that painful? His brows shift with the thought. He reaches a hand out, and she takes his. They walk down the street together. 
“You must have, you did not just appear one day?” She points to his wings. “You did not evolve from a bird.” Jaydon thought of his mother and cringed inwardly. No, most days he felt he was spawned from the darkest of evils. For a simple question, he has no answer.
“How old are you child?” He asks, still speaking in Italian. She speaks openly without hesitation in Italian. English is obviously difficult for her to speak.
“Sixteen.” She replies. He places his hands together in front of him. He blows between his thumbs, then pulls them apart to reveal a sphere inside. He hands it to her. She hums and sighs
“It is warm!” She says, her voice glazed with delight. She brings the sphere to one cheek holding it there. Having to tilt her head to look up at him, to express her joy that cannot be said with words. Jaydon sees the smile he heard. Jaydon heart aches. He can see the dark circle under her eyes, pale skin, sickness of hunger. A sickness he had known often when he was a fledgling Fae. The feelings he has forced down all his life at his mother's command tries to surface. It angers him to feel this way. To battle inside himself, he wants to find a balance.
“Did your god create that?” He asks. More curious than he thought he would be about her answer. He has never thought of these things is this way.
“He created all things and gave all things life.” The modest answer she gave has him thinking. She moves the warm sphere to the other cheek. If life were as simple as that. To accept a fact with no physical evidence. With his hands cupped behind his back while she clings to the warmth of the sphere, he looks around. He spots the College Hall of the University of Pennsylvania. It is a grand building.
“And did man or God do that?” He leans over her holding a shoulder pointing to the University with his free hand. The young human leans closer. Using his pointed finger to narrow her perception of what he speaks of. She tilts her head to the side, resting it on his arm as she focuses. When she finds the building, she only shakes her head gently in disagreement.
“There are many marvelous things man has built, it is the ability to do so, that is a gift from God.” She pauses as she looks over her shoulder up at him, her eyes asking a thousand questions about him. Jaydon shivers under that look and he did not know why. Even an angered glare from his mother no longer affects him. She turns pulling out of his grasp, holding the globe out to him.
“Like the gift of the bear to sleep, without eating during the long winter. Ants build mounds, and birds, nest. He did not create us unprepared for the challenges or hardship we face. There is a reason and purpose for everything and everyone. It is not our place to question and judge why, only to ask how can we best use it in his way.”
“Yes, but did he also not destroy many of his own creations? Does your book not mention a flood?" She shrugs tucking the sphere back close to her body when he did not take it back.
“Beast and man alike destroy many things. We were created in his image. Then he gave us free will. It is our choice what we do with it. One may choose to be of wicked ways or not.  To stand by idle while others suffer is as wicked. Life requires a choice.” She considers him close again, her brows pulling together.
“Sir, do not let your anger consume you. Let it go. Find balance in yourself. Let the goodness take its place. Let what is in your heart go free.” She puts her now warm hand on his heart. She closes her large brown eyes.
“Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.” She speaks softly. Jaydon heart stops for a moment. He slowly reaches up resting his hand over hers. His heart races with the kindhearted connection they physically share in that moment. His mind blank of any thought but her words. Could he do it? He cups her hand pulling it away. He does not let go put gentle pulls her along. They walk in silence until Jaydon hers the turning of her empty stomach.
“Would you like something to eat?” She shakes her head, eager to have food in her stomach. It had been at least three days since she had last eaten. It was a discarded half eaten apple.
“What is your name?” He asks.
“Bella.” She ducks bashfully “Bellissa”
As they enter the bakery, he watches as she takes a deep breath and holds it. Her eyes close for a moment before she runs outside where she heaves what fluid is in her stomach. Jaydon follows and notices the traces of blood in the fluid on the ground.
“Forgive me Sir, your kindness has been revered. I do not mean to be insolent it has been too long since I last ate.” Restrained tears of fear, that she might have angered him, danced in her brown eyes.
“It is alright child, wait here. I will bring some out.” He pats her back twice before returning to the Bakery.
As he waits for his turn in line, memories of his own hunger as child surface. The hunger of the slaves in his mother's court. The pain and abuse at her command. Jaydon is surprised it is not anger that floods him, but feelings of injustice, wrongness. The thoughts of his pampered brother and the way his mother flaunts her affections and favoritism of them in front of him. He turns his head to look over his shoulder at the young human outside. She had a mother who loved her, unable to care for her. He has a mother able to, not doing either loving or caring for him.
Could he help her? Could he change her life? Save her from what fate lay before her? Can he do the same? Such a strong human, so young, filled with faith and hope. To have faith in someone she has never seen, or never will in her physical existence. That this creator will protect her. Bring her home when it is her time. Where is his home? Where would he go when he is dead, is it just a fade like the one they say? Where did he come from? She is right. Fae did not just one day appear. He rejoins her outside handing her a loaf of bread.
“I know how it feels, eat slowly child or your body will reject it as well.” He tells her. Knowing from his own experience. She breaks a small piece off, holds it to her nose as she breathes in deep. A smile spreads as her eyes close. He could not help the feeling of gratefulness that washes over him. Knowing he is feeling her emotions. He does not realize he has let his walls down.
They were so different from what he usually felt. He grumbles inside at the thought of home and Mictian. A sickening feeling washes over him as he thinks of his life. He has to shut out everyone to block the cold, malicious, emotions running deep in the world of Fae. This is what he came looking for, now it hurts more than it helps. He asks himself, could I change my life?
“Thank you for your kindness, Sir. Will I see you again?” She asks.
“Probably not I do not make my way here often. It is a tiring journey for me.” He answers thinking of much energy it takes for him to come to the human world. How weak it makes him. 
“You must live far away.” They talk and walk on. Jaydon lost track of time until he notices the cold of the winter night picking his flesh. He looks around.
“It is late child, where is your home?” He asks. She shook her head.
“Where is your papa?” He watches a glint of horror flash in her eyes. She stiffens and answers.
“In the old country. Mamma brought me here alone.” Jaydon pushes into her mind and sees the memories of an abusive father and uncles. Her emotions wash over him. The fact that her memories scare her more than being alone in the world or the pain of her mother's death is astonishing. An idea crosses his mind that warms him similar to her feeling of gratefulness, and he knew, without a doubt, it is what he has to do. For the first time since he was a fledgling Fae, Jaydon felt right inside.
Her words, seek, and you shall find flutters across his memory. He smiles down at her and puts her into a deep sleep. Catching her in his arms he moves along the city streets. They go unseen until he crosses a hotel. Yes, he thought this would do for the night.
Jaydon rested that night with the thought of their conversation running in his mind. Humans have such a definitive answer for where they came from. Whether they believed in evolution, or a creator, they had made a science and school for that. Discovering their origins understanding themselves. Where were his? Where did Fae come from he had asked himself for the first time? He went to sleep knowing two things. He would change his life somehow, and he will seek the way to make the wrongs right, starting with Bella. He would discover his origins.