Arin Lee
Wild Fae
Fiddle Wit
It is the stretched soul that makes music, and souls are stretched by the pull of opposites - opposite bents, tastes, yearnings, loyalties. Where there is no polarity - where energies flow smoothly in one direction - there will be much doing but no music.
~Eric Hoffer
Arin Lee. Born seventeen years ago to a Pook mother of the Seelie Court, sired by a human man, Arin has been pulled by opposites all her life - Faerie and human blood, quicksilver mortal temperment and Faerie longevity. Pulled by human longings and Faerie whims...a stretched soul, full of music. 'Tis not always an easy life, but it is one she would not trade, for she deeply loves life and music.
Yes my brother I know,
The rest might not, but I have treasured every note,
For more than once dimly down to the beach gliding,
Silent, avoiding the moonbeams, blending myself with the shadows,
Recalling now the obscure shapes, the echoes...
I, with bare feet, a child, the wind wafting my hair,
Listened long and long.
~Walt Whitman
Arin was raised by her human father until she was eight. At age six she first picked up a violin, and learned she had an unusual talent for music. Her mother, who had remained distant, recognized this, and, two years later, took the girl with her to be raised among the Seelie Faerie, where she felt the girl's gifts could best be trained. For five years the child lived amongst the Seelie Faerie, training, learning, growing...
To gain that which is worth having, it may be necessary to lose everything else.
~Bernadette Deven McAliskey
At age thirteen, Arin decided she did not belong in the Seelie Court, as everything was to structured for her taste. That year, she ran away to the Wild Faerie, forsaking her parents; after several months among them, she found the life to be much more to her liking. She was accepted, despite her halfblood heritage. Now, four years later, Arin is a Fiddle Wit of the Wild Faerie.
It is cruel, you know, that music should be so beautiful.It has the beauty of loneliness and pain; of strength and freedom. The beauty of disappointment and never-satisfied love. The cruel beauty of nature, and everlasting beauty of monotony.
~Benjamin Britten
With her music, Arin can weave soft enchantments to snare the soul...to gather luck...and her music is all she believes in. Having lost the ties of family, her soul is somewhat adrift, always seeking...but what, she does not know. So she follows where her music leads her, searching...
Music was invented to confirm human loneliness.
~Lawrence Durrell
A young woman, petite and slender, Arin has thick hair that reaches a few inches past her shoulders, hair the color and sheen of the violin she carries with her. Her eyes are a dark grey, the dominating feature of her small face. She usually wears a simple, sleeveless dress of white that ends a few inches aboe her ankles...and, of course, she always carries her violin with her, in a battered case with a shoulder strap.
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
~W. B. Yeats
