The Changelings

There was once a time long ago where, on the English isles, the Fae were feared above all else. The nightmarish trickster spirits of the wood, silver of tongue and sleight of hand, simply lying in wait to ensnare those vulnerable enough to fall for their lures. Though they were known for many tricks and ploys, their most despised was when they would snatch away human children in the night, before replacing them with near-identical fae offspring known as changelings. This practice is considered entirely barbaric, most obviously by the humans, but also by the changelings themselves. As one could expect, being forced to live in a world not made for them, constantly forced to hide their true form, wondering why everyone around them was aging and dying except for them, would eventually drive many of these creatures insane. But, despite this, there are those who manage to make the best of the hands that they were dealt. One such changeling was Detective Robin Goodfellows.

The year was 1897. It was a crisp and foggy autumn afternoon, with a sharp chill blowing through the air. The sky above London, as nearly always, was filled with silver clouds ensnaring the sunshine above it. Goodfellows himself was having a peaceful day, sitting in an emerald green armchair, sipping on an herbal tea whilst reading the morning paper. However, his peaceful afternoon was soon interrupted by a loud knocking at the door. He groaned, put down his tea and paper, and walked towards the door. Before doing so, he took a quick glance in the mirror to ensure he was in his human form. After confirming this, he grasped the silver doorknob and opened the door. Standing outside was a woman, dressed in a fancy gray dress with white lace, though no expensive jewelry to speak of. Her brown hair was done up in a messy braided bun, as if she had just thrown it together in a rush.

“Are you the detective Goodfellows?” she asked, in a panic.

He responded calmly. “Indeed I am.”

“Good. Then I need you to come with me at once.” She began walking off, expecting him to follow her.

He, however, did not. “Slow down a minute there, miss... what is your name?”

“Helena,” she replied, “my name is Helena, and I’m kind of in a hurry here. Please, come with me.” She tried to walk off again, but Goodfellows still stood still.

“Hold on, Ms. Helena. I was in the middle of a relaxing cup of tea, and if I’m going to leave the house at all today, which for the record I really do not want to do, I’m going to need a good reason.”

“A child has gone missing.” Helena said sternly.

Goodfellows nodded. “Now, why didn’t you start with that?” He said as he donned his overcoat and hat. He then walked out the door. “Lead the way, Ms. Helena.”

As the two walked down the stony fog-covered streets of London, Goodfellows quickly became uncomfortable. In his head, he tried to remember all of what he had learned over the years to try and pass as a human. Keep walking. Smile, but don’t show your teeth. Make eye contact, humans like that. But not too much, or they hit you with their purse. Goodfellows soon began asking Helena questions regarding herself and the case. “So, is the missing child yours, or...?”

“Well, yes, no, kind of.” She explained, “I work as a governess for a man named Mr. Theseus.”

Goodfellows looked at her, confused. “Who is...?”

“He’s a banker in town. Fairly wealthy man. After his wife died, he hired me to take care of his son. Six years old.”

“And now he’s gone missing.”

“Indeed.” She confirmed.

“Interesting.”

The two arrived at the Theseus house, a large manor with black wooden siding. Goodfellows was about to walk towards the door but was stopped by Helena. “One last thing,” she said, “Mr. Theseus doesn’t know that I hired you.”

This greatly confused Goodfellows. “Why is that?”

“He didn’t want anyone from the outside knowing about the disappearance.” She explained

“Reputation?” Goodfellows guessed.

Helena shrugged. “Partially, but not just that. Mr. Theseus is a very... superstitious person. He believes a fae took his son;” She said, sounding greatly annoyed, “and he won’t be told otherwise.”

Goodfellows felt his stomach churn, knowing that this would greatly complicate matters, before walking to the door. He grasped the doorknob, only to wince as he felt his hand burn. He quickly reclined from the doorknob, hiding away his burnt hand in his coat pocket.

“Aren’t you going to go in?” Helena asked.

Goodfellows nodded and stepped aside. “Ladies first.” he said, allowing Helena to open the door and enter before him. He quickly followed her in, avoiding the doorknob as he did.

Immediately upon walking in, he and Helena were met with two older men. One was very heavy-set, wearing a black suit with a gray vest underneath. The other was younger, wearing a dark green suit with a black overcoat and carrying a gold-headed cane.

“Helena!” The older man yelled, “Where did you go, you shouldn’t be running off at a time like this!” The man then seemed to notice Goodfellows. “And who is this?”

Goodfellows held out his hand. “Detective Robin Goodfellows. And you are Mr. Theseus, I presume?”

Mr. Theseus ignored him. “Detective? Helena, I told you, I don’t want anyone else involved in this!”

“Mr. Theseus, please,” Helena begged, “if we want to find your son-”

“We will not be able to, as I said.” Theseus turned to Goodfellows. “No disrespect to your skills, of course, but something of this magnitude exceeds even your abilities.”

Goodfellows tried with great difficulty keeping himself from laughing at this. “Look, it will not do you any harm for me to just take a look at things. Worst case scenario, I simply find nothing and leave.”

Theseus seemed to almost be convinced by this, but the second man interrupted the conversation. “I would highly advise against that, Theseus. A man of your position could be easily ruined by the drama of something like this. Additionally, it might be a waste of funds.”

This comment seemed to enrage Helena. “Yes, because his reputation is clearly more important than a missing child. Who exactly are you, anyway?” she demanded.

“Oh, this is my lawyer,” Theseus answered, “Mr. William Oberon.”

The lawyer held out his hand toward Helena. “How do you do; Miss. May I have your name?”

Helena was about to answer but was quickly interrupted by Goodfellows. “Her name is Helena.” he answered.

Oberon nodded. “Well, Helena, you should know how damaging a missing child with no explanation can be to a public figure.”

This was moronic reasoning, and Goodfellows knew it. “Well, given that I do not like people, I likely won’t be one to spill much information. That and my first consultation is free.”

With no excuses left, Theseus reluctantly agreed to let Goodfellows take a look at the crime scene. Helena led Goodfellows upstairs to the daughter’s bedroom, closely followed by Mr. Theseus and Mr. Oberon.

Once Goodfellows entered the room, there were a few factors he immediately noticed. The room itself was mostly gray, offset by the spotless white bedding, ceiling, and billowing curtains, blowing in the wind from the open window.

“This room is immaculate.” Goodfellows commented.

“Why, thank you!” Theseus proudly responded, “My housekeepers pride themselves-”

“No, that is not a good thing.” Goodfellows said sharply, “A clean room means no footprints, no signs of struggle, nothing to work with.”

“Oh.”

Goodfellows walked to the open window, looking down at the roof siding below. There were a few wooden tiles missing, as if someone had been walking up there. He turned to the group. “Who all was in the house last night?” He asked.

“I was,” Helena answered, “but I didn’t hear much. Only a thud, and then he was gone. Like he just vanished.”

“Of course, he just vanished, that’s how they always do it.” Theseus insisted. Both Helena and Oberon groaned in annoyance. Goodfellows also noticed Oberon tapping his fingers against the head of his cane.

“Mr. Theseus,” Goodfellows asked, “how much do you know about these fae?”

“Why do you ask?” Oberon rudely interrupted. Goodfellows glared at him. “I am merely trying to get a sense of what I’m working with.” he answered, “No need to be so defensive.”

Oberon only huffed, though he glared at Theseus, who answered the question. “Well, I know a few things, I suppose. They steal children. They are weak to iron; it burns them. And they are natural deceivers. They cannot lie, per se, but they twist their words.”

Goodfellows nodded. “Knowledgeable enough, I see.”

Oberon, fingers rapping even harder against his cane now, began speaking again. “Well, if you are done then with any relevant investigation, I think it’s time for you to be off. Isn’t that right, Theseus?”

Theseus nodded. “Right, right. Nothing more you can do here, I’m afraid.”

Goodfellows nodded. “Well, then. I suppose I’ll be off. See you all around.” Goodfellows then left, though not before giving the two men a suspicious glance.

As he walked home down the gray and foggy London streets, his head spun with thoughts of the case, obviously the strangest he’d come across. He’d met many superstitious people in his time, but none superstitious enough to actively try and stop an investigation of their missing child. Oberon himself also seemed to be a rather morally dubious and annoying person, though this could merely be explained by his profession as a lawyer. Either way, it seemed as if something else was happening here.

That evening, he arrived at his home, a large black manor with silver windowsills that he had inherited from his “parents” after their passing. But contrasting the dull exterior, the inside was decorated with green furniture and carpet, with floral and vine-like patterns adorning the wallpaper. Once inside, Goodfellows ran to the window curtains and closed them, ensuring that no passersby could see what was to happen next. He then approached a mirror and began to shift back into his true form. His eyes shifted from a dull gray to a vibrant green; his ears sharpened to a point; and two horns grew from his forehead. The transformation was actually quite relaxing, like the feeling of taking off a suffocating mask. Shedding his human disguise, he felt as if a heavy weight was taken off his shoulders.

However, before he got too comfortable, he heard the sound of shattering glass from the back of his house, followed by a familiar female voice yelling “Sorry, sorry!” Suddenly, Helena emerged from his kitchen. “I couldn’t have them following me, so I had to get in through the back, but- ah!” It was at this point where she noticed his true changeling form. “You, you’re a-”

“Please, let me explain.” Goodfellows said, but this plea was ignored. She began running towards the door, but with a snap of his fingers, Goodfellows made it disappear. With her exit gone, she turned to face Goodfellows. “I’m not going to hurt you.” He insisted.

“How can I trust you?” she asked, panicking, “Mr. Theseus said fae were natural deceivers!”

“True,” Goodfellows admitted, “But he also said that we cannot lie, remember?”

Helena nodded. “I suppose that is true.”

“Exactly. Now, please, sit down, let’s talk.” Helena, still slightly shocked by all of this, did. Goodfellows began making some tea, before joining her at the table.

“Now,” he asked, “why on earth did you break into my house?”

“Well, I-” she was about to answer, but quickly became distracted. “Could you, perhaps, put the horns away. They are kind of unsettling.”

“No, I am afraid I will not.” he bluntly responded. “If you knew how uncomfortable it is pretending to be a human all day, you would not blame me. Also, you are the one who broke into my house, so...”

“Alright, I get it.” She said before continuing. “Shortly after you left, I overheard an argument between Mr. Theseus and Mr. Oberon. Oberon seemed to be threatening him, yelling at him for ‘saying too much.’ Then, Oberon said he was going to ‘take care of the problem’”

Goodfellows nodded. “So, it appears Oberon is blackmailing Theseus and using the boy as a bargaining chip. So, only slightly more evil than the average lawyer.” He immediately stood up and snapped his fingers, transforming back into his human form. “Come along, then.” He said to the very confused Helena.

“Where are we going?” She asked.

“We are breaking into Oberon’s house to get the boy back.” he replied bluntly, “And given that you seem to be good at this kind of thing, you’re going to help me.”

Helena groaned. “Okay, how long are you planning to hold this over my head?” She asked.

Goodfellows laughed. “Given that I’ll likely live until the end of time, probably until then.”

The two then walked under the cover of the night down the streets of London. Eventually, they found Oberon’s manor, an even larger estate than even Theseus’. The two then snuck around to the back garden and found a door leading inside.

“Okay,” Goodfellows said, “You may need to help me with the door here. Most doorknobs are made of iron or some iron alloy these days and I cannot touch it.”

Helena nodded, before giving Goodfellows a confused glance. “Wait, why are fae even weak to iron anyway?”

“I’m not sure.” Goodfellows answered, “From what I have read, it seems like since fae are embodiments of nature and iron is a tool of industrialization, it’s a symbolic thing?”

“So, iron, a naturally occurring element, is too unnatural for you?”

“Look, I do not decide these rules, I just suffer from them. Now, will you please break the window and unlock the door?” He insisted.

Helena shrugged, picked up a small rock from the ground, and tapped the corner of the window, shattering it. She then reached through the broken window and unlocked the door. The two entered, though Helena looked back and muttered “Well, that seemed partially unnecessary.”

“What do you mean?” Goodfellows asked.

“The door latch and knob are made of gold, not iron.”

Goodfellows simply shrugged before moving on.

The two walked around the house quietly, unsure who, if anyone, was in the house at the time. The house itself was quite extravagant, decorated with deep green walls and golden decorum all around. At first, the two looked around where one might expect to find a kidnapped child. The cellar, the attic, various closets. But all these searches were null and void.

The two were going to give up, before Helena heard familiar footsteps. “Over there!” She said, before quietly running off towards the sound with Goodfellows following her. Finally, standing at the end of the hallway, they found the missing boy. However, something about him was different. His face seemed gaunt, and his skin seemed pale, almost sheet white.

Helena ran up and embraced him. “Lysander!” she cried, “Thank God you're alright!”

However, the child did not reply, simply staring blankly past Helena as if she were not even there.

“Lysander, are you alright?” She asked frantically, but the boy did not answer.

Goodfellows felt a sinking pit in his stomach, fearing for the answer when he then asked, “What is your name?”

The boy answered in a monotone voice. “I do not have a name anymore.”

Goodfellows’ eyes widened in realization. “Oh, this is bad. This is quite bad.”

“What is?” Helena asked. “It appears that Lysander here has given his name to a fae.”

“Okay?” Helena said, confused, “Why is that bad?”

“By fae logic,” Goodfellows explained, “giving one your name means giving someone yourself. Your identity, your mind, pretty much everything. Reverting them to, well, this.”

Helena looked to be on the edge of tears. But suddenly, a realization struck her. “But wait, that means that Oberon-”

“I’m afraid so, my dear.” a voice rang out from behind them. It was Mr. Oberon, though looking far different from when they had last seen him. Similar to Goodfellows, his eyes were now glowing green, with sharpened ears and two horns erupting from his head.

From the other side of the hall, Mr. Theseus approached, carrying a crossbow in his hand. With his free hand, he restrained Helena, before aiming the crossbow, with an iron stake loaded, directedly at the detective, who seemed rather unfazed.

“Ah, Mr. Oberon. A fellow fae, as I had suspected.” Goodfellows remarked.

“Not merely that,” Oberon confirmed, “but a fellow changeling, I would wager.”

Goodfellows confirmed this, snapping his fingers and turning into his true form.

“Wait, Mr. Theseus,” Helena asked, “you are in on this, your own son’s kidnapping?”

“He is,” Goodfellows confirmed, “although I suspect not by choice. Am I correct on that, Oberon?”

Oberon laughed. “A clever one, yes. You see, Theseus and I had a deal we made many years ago. I helped him acquire all of this wealth and status if, in return, he would give me his firstborn. When the bill came due, he did not want to pay up. However, I did not leave him much choice.”

As Oberon cackled to himself, Goodfellows looked back at Theseus and saw what looked to be remorse in his eyes.

“However, when our little governess here brought you into the picture, it put a wrench in our plan which we had to take care of. A shame, really. There are not many of our kind these days and I hate to get rid of another one, but what choice do we have?”

“Wait!” Goodfellows said, “Before you kill us, I’d like to have a word! Why are you doing this?” Goodfellows asked, “Why torture this family?”

Oberon laughed “Oh, Robin, you of all people should understand. You and I, we’re forced to live in a world not meant for us, one that actively hurts us, forces us to disguise our true selves for mere human sensibilities. And try as we might, there is nothing we can do about that fact. But what we can do is lash out, hurt the world that hurts us, take what little control over what we can. It’s survival, Goodfellows. You surely understand.”

Goodfellows solemnly nodded. “I do understand. It is true that we are forced upon this world that hates us. However, unlike you, I have seized this opportunity to hope to improve it while I can. It’s a very ludicrous hope, I’m aware, but it’s one I have all the same.”

Oberon once again simply laughed. “Well, that hope should do you quite well in the grave,” he said with a sinister sneer, before turning to Mr. Theseus. “Kill them. The girl first.”

However, before he could, Goodfellows began laughing. “I should let you know, Oberon, you’ve made a crucial mistake this eve. Earlier, I asked you if I could have a word. I’ve now chosen which word.” Oberon’s once-prideful face quickly fell as he realized his error.

“’Oberon.’” Goodfellows said, a mischievous smile across his face.

“No!” The man cried in desperation, “That cannot be how that works!”

“In that case, you would not mind me testing my theory,” Goodfellows turned and snapped his fingers. “I command you to free this family.”

Against his will, the changeling raised his hand and snapped his fingers. Immediately, Lysander seemed to instantly recover, snapping back to life as his face flushed with color.

Seeing as Oberon no longer had control over his son, Mr. Theseus aimed the crossbow at the changeling, firing an iron stake straight into his chest. As the man screamed, his body began to burn and crumble until he was nothing more than a burnt pile of ashes upon the floor.

Mr. Theseus ran towards Lysander, and the two cried and embraced each other. “I’m so sorry.” He cried.

Helena walked over to Goodfellows. “Thank you, Mr. Goodfellows, for your help.” She spoke.

Goodfellows nodded. “Thank you as well, Ms. Helena.”

“For helping with the case?” She inquired.

Goodfellows shrugged. “That as well,” Goodfellows replied. “Feel free to stop by anytime. Preferably through the front door this time.”

Helena rolled her eyes. “Will do.”

Goodfellows nodded, then turned to the others. “Well, this has all been fun,” he said sarcastically, “but it has been a long day and I’m quite exhausted. Hopefully, I will never see most of you ever again.” Without another word, the changeling left, disappearing into the night.