‘I​ ​saw​ ​her​ ​in​ ​the​ ​woods.​ ​She​ ​stayed​ ​still​ ​long​ ​enough​ ​for​ ​me​ ​to​ ​take​ ​her​ ​picture​ ​and​ ​then​ ​she vanished.’

‘Vanished.'

'Yeah,​ ​you​ ​know​ - ​disappeared.’

Her​ ​father​ ​didn’t​ ​remind​ ​Lesley​ ​that​ ​no​ ​one​ ​liked​ ​a​ ​smartarse,​ ​he​ ​was​ ​too​ ​busy​ ​staring​ ​at the​ ​strange​ ​figure​ ​in​ ​the​ ​photo.​ ​The​ ​fey,​ ​lost-looking​ ​figure​ ​emerging​ ​from​ ​the​ ​undergrowth.

‘Where​ ​did​ ​you​ ​say​ ​you​ ​saw​ ​her?’

Sometimes​ ​a​ ​picture​ ​can​ ​be​ ​too​ ​fine,​ ​too​ ​clear​ ​and​ ​perfect​ ​to​ ​be​ ​chance.​ ​In​ ​the​ ​hands​ ​of​ ​an artist​ ​of​ ​course​ ​such​ ​beauty​ ​can​ ​be​ ​created,​ ​but​ ​in​ ​the​ ​hands​ ​of​ ​amateur​ ​teenager?​ ​Who​ ​could believe​ ​she​ ​had​ ​orchestrated​ ​such​ ​a​ ​sight?​ ​Lesley’s​ ​photo​ ​of​ ​the​ ​fairy​ ​woman​ ​didn’t​ ​stay​ ​in​ ​the house​ ​to​ ​be​ ​admired​ ​only​ ​by her​ father,​ ​it​ ​was​ ​passed​ ​around​ ​the​ ​town.

At​ ​first​ ​it​ ​was naturally​ ​met​ ​with​ ​initial​ ​incredulity​ ​and​ ​scorn,​ ​but​ ​those​ ​voices​ ​soon​ ​ceased.​ ​The​ ​woman captured​ ​in​ ​the​ ​camera​ ​made​ ​people​ ​question​ ​themselves.​ ​To​ ​doubt​ ​what​ ​they​ ​knew.​ ​Everyone wanted​ ​to​ ​believe​ ​it​ ​was​ ​a​ ​fake;​ ​a​ ​Photoshop​ ​job​ ​of​ ​a​ ​model​ ​superimposed​ ​upon​ ​the​ ​mundane background​ ​of​ ​the​ ​local​ ​woods.​ ​If​ ​it​ ​was​ ​though,​ ​none​ ​of​ ​them​ ​could​ ​tell​ ​how​ ​she​ ​had​ ​done​ ​it. When​ ​Lesley​ ​produced​ ​a​ ​second,​ ​the​ ​same​ ​ethereal​ ​girl​ ​peering​ ​with​ ​bemusement​ ​from​ ​the branches​ ​of​ ​the​ ​tree,​ ​most​ ​of​ ​the​ ​skeptics​ ​had​ ​already​ ​become​ ​convinced.

‘I​ ​call​ ​her​ ​Lilith.’

‘Have​ ​you​ ​spoken?’

‘No,​ ​but​ ​that’s​ ​what​ ​I​ ​call​ ​her.​ ​Whenever​ ​I​ ​see​ ​her​ ​she’s​ ​usually​ ​gone​ ​pretty​ ​quickly.’

Lesley​ ​would​ ​elaborate​ ​that​ ​story,​ ​describing​ ​how​ ​‘Lilith’​ ​would​ ​vanish​ ​whenever​ ​she​ ​came​ ​close like​ ​a​ ​startled​ ​deer​ ​in​ ​flight.​ ​She​ ​only​ ​had​ ​a​ ​few​ ​tantalizing​ ​seconds​ ​in​ ​which​ ​to​ ​take​ ​her​ ​fabled pictures.​ ​The​ ​woman​ ​hovered​ ​between​ ​worlds.​ ​Her​ ​evanescent​ ​presence​ ​like​ ​smoke​ ​meeting sunlight.

As​ ​the​ ​pictures​ ​gathered​ ​more​ ​and​ ​more​ ​fame​ ​so​ ​too​ ​came​ ​the​ ​speculations​ ​about​ ​their origin.​ ​The​ ​​ ​world​ ​wanted​ ​so​ ​to​ ​believe​ ​that​ ​‘Lilith’​ ​wasn’t​ ​a​ ​real​ ​flesh​ ​and​ ​blood​ ​model,​ ​but instead​ ​a​ ​visitor​ ​from​ ​another​ ​land.​ ​The​ ​king​ ​of​ ​Elfland’s​ ​daughter​ ​perhaps,​ ​Queen​ ​Titania,​ ​or Queen​ ​Mab.​ ​The​ ​fact​ ​only​ ​one​ ​person​ ​had​ ​seen​ ​her​ ​and​ ​been​ ​able​ ​to​ ​capture​ ​her​ ​image​ ​only made​ ​it​ ​all​ ​the​ ​more​ ​maddening.​ ​If​ ​there​ ​was​ ​one​ ​who​ ​could​ ​see​ ​her​ ​then​ ​there​ ​were​ ​possibly​ ​a chosen​ ​few​ ​to​ ​whom​ ​she​ ​would​ ​reveal​ ​herself.​ ​Crowds​ ​descended​ ​on​ ​the​ ​woods,​ ​but​ ​no matter​ ​how​ ​long​ ​they​ ​looked,​ ​the​ ​fairy​ ​maiden​ ​was​ ​not​ ​to​ ​be​ ​found.​ ​Then​ ​as​ ​soon​ ​as​ ​they dispersed,​ ​Lesley​ ​would​ ​reveal​ ​another​ image, ​driving​ ​the​ ​waiting​ ​devotees​ ​into​ ​a​ ​frenzy.

Despite some initial forays into the limelight, Lesley​ ​chose​ ​to​ ​avoid​ ​talk​ ​shows​ ​and​ ​magazines​ ​that​ ​clamoured​ ​to​ ​interview​ ​her​, seeking ​to​ ​gain an​ ​insight​ ​into​ ​the​ ​growing​ ​phenomenon.​ ​She​ ​refused​ ​them​ ​all,​ ​sending​ ​the​ ​photos​ ​when​ ​they came​ ​out​ ​through​ ​an​ ​agent​ ​who​ ​made​ ​them​ ​public.​ ​Lilith​ ​was​ ​her​ ​secret,​ ​and​ ​hers​ ​alone.

As ​more​ ​frequent ​photos​ ​emerged,​ ​it​ ​was​ ​possible​ ​for​ ​the​ ​viewer​ ​to​ ​gain​ ​a perspective​ ​of​ ​Lilith.​ ​The​ ​child-like​ ​lost​ ​wonder​ ​on​ ​her​ ​face​ ​endearing​ ​her​ ​all​ ​the​ ​more.​ ​She​ ​was beautiful​ ​to​ ​be​ ​sure​ ​but​ ​there​ ​was​ ​more​ ​to​ ​her​ ​than​ ​just​ ​attraction.​ ​Her​ ​very​ ​existence​ ​was testament​ ​that​ ​there​ ​was​ ​more​ ​to​ ​the​ ​world​ ​than​ ​the​ ​grey​ ​veil​ ​of​ ​the​ ​normal.​

​Here​ ​there​ ​was​ ​a glimpse​ ​into​ ​a​ ​world​ ​unseen​ ​but​ ​long​ ​desired.​ ​The​ ​eerily-coloured​ ​landscape​ ​through​ ​which Lilith​ ​walked​ ​was​ ​a​ ​hidden​ ​realm​ ​of​ ​delight​ ​and​ ​wonder​ ​desired​ ​by​ ​people​ ​who​ ​had​ ​no​ ​idea​ ​of what​ ​they​ ​desired​ ​so​ ​much.​ ​‘Lilith’​ ​was​ ​a​ ​glimpse​ ​into​ ​that:​ ​a​ ​beckoning​ ​finger​ ​to​ ​your​ ​heart’s desire.​ ​Maybe​ ​she​ ​wasn’t​ ​real​ ​but​ ​everyone​ ​wanted​ ​so​ ​to​ ​believe​ ​that​ ​she​ ​was;​ ​a​ ​fairy​ ​princess dancing​ ​in​ ​the​ ​beauty​ ​of​ ​the​ ​sunlight.

A​ ​campaign​ ​was​ ​started​ ​online​ ​to​ ​try​ ​and​ ​search out​ ​the​ ​origin​ ​of​ ​the​ ​mysterious​ ​girl​ ​and where​ ​the​ ​pictures​ ​were​ ​being​ ​taken.​ ​Experts​ ​came​ ​and​ ​went,​ ​and​ ​theories​ ​clogged​ ​up​ ​forums all​ ​over​ ​the​ ​internet​ ​as​ ​everyone​ ​clamoured​ ​to​ ​try​ ​and​ ​understand.​ ​‘Where is ​Lilith?’​ ​became​ ​a slogan​ ​people​ ​would​ ​wear​ ​emblazoned​ ​on​ ​their​ ​T-shirts​ ​or pasted on their social media.​ ​Music​ ​festivals sprung​ ​up​ ​reviving​ ​a​ ​craze​ ​in​ ​medieval​ ​instruments​ ​as​ ​people​ ​dressed​ ​like​ ​'Lilith' gathered to slowly dance to the sounds of a different time. Knowing it was done in 'Lilith's' name made the music magical, made it fairy.

Throughout​ all the rising hysteria,​ ​Lesley,​ ​cult​ ​figure​ ​phenomenon​ ​that​ ​she​ ​had​ ​now​ ​become​, s​lowly​ ​shifted from​ ​enthusiastic​ ​artistic​ ​heroine ​to​ ​pensive​ ​capturer​ ​of​ ​the​ ​fey.​ The idea of fame now repulsed her, while Lilith herself was a troublesome ward. Where had that name come from, after all? She could no longer remember there being a conscious decision to name the subject of her art, one day she was just Lilith, the girl in fairyland.

​Fairy​ ​is​ ​never​ ​meant​ ​to​ ​be​ ​a reassuring​ ​place.​ ​It​ ​isn’t​ ​somewhere​ ​to​ ​go​ ​to​ ​get​ ​your​ ​heart’s​ ​desire,​ ​no​ ​matter​ ​how​ ​much​ ​you may​ ​want​ ​to​ ​believe​ ​it and wishes​ ​might​ ​be​ ​granted​ ​but​ ​only​ ​at​ ​a​ ​hefty​ ​price.

‘I​ ​made​ ​her​ ​up,​ ​Dad.’

Though​ ​he​ ​had​ ​his​ ​suspicions,​ ​her​ ​father​ ​was​ ​surprised​ ​at​ ​how​ ​much​ ​the​ ​revelation​ ​hurt. It​ ​was​ ​an​ ​abrupt​ ​stab​ ​in​ ​the​ ​chest​ ​impossible​ ​to​ ​prepare​ ​for.

‘I​ ​created​ ​this​ ​software​ ​that​ ​allows​ ​me​ ​to​ ​create​ ​a​ ​human​ ​being’s​ ​likeness​ ​with​ ​almost perfect​ ​clarity.​ ​I started working on it in school. After Mum left. ​There​ ​is​ ​nothing​ ​like​ ​it​ ​on​ ​the​ ​market. I​ ​could​ ​have​ ​sold​ ​it,​ ​but​ no one would believe that I'd done it. I knew even then it was too good. Then ​I just​ ​wanted​ ​to​ ​create​ ​something...more.​ ​Then​ ​people​ ​just​ ​fell​ ​in​ ​love​ ​with Li.... with her,​ ​and​ ​I​ ​just​ ​kept​ ​going.’

She​ ​was​ ​babbling,​ ​but​ ​he​ ​was​ ​barely​ ​listening.​ ​Of​ ​course​ ​he’d​ ​known​ ​his​ ​daughter​ ​was​ ​a genius​ ​of​ ​this​ ​kind​ ​of​ ​photoshop​ ​trickery,​ ​but​ ​he​ ​had​ ​wanted​ ​so​ ​hard​ ​to​ ​believe​ ​that​ ​this​ ​wasn’t what​ ​was​ ​happening.​ ​That​ ​Lesley​ ​had​ ​actually​ ​captured​ ​something​ ​real.​ ​She ​talked​ ​on,​ ​her voice​ ​growing​ ​thick,​ ​about​ ​how​ ​Lilith​ ​had​ ​started​ ​to​ ​become​ ​more​ ​like​ ​a​ ​real​ ​person​ ​as​ ​she​ ​had crafted​ ​her,​ ​and​ ​how​ ​it​ ​sickened​ ​her​ ​now​ ​how​ ​the​ ​world​ ​had​ ​taken​ ​her​ ​and​ ​made​ ​her​ ​into​ ​a mascot.​ ​A​ ​symbol​ ​for​ ​their​ ​own​ ​desperation.​ Theirs was the guilt of desire, hers was of negligence. ​As​ ​the​ ​tea​ ​grew​ ​cold​ ​in​ ​his​ ​unmoving​ ​hand,​ ​her father​ ​finally​ ​whispered,

‘You​ ​have​ ​to​ ​tell​ ​everyone.’

When​ ​the​ ​truth​ ​finally​ ​came​ ​to​ ​light​ ​that​ ​Lesley​ ​had​ ​made​ ​up​ ​the​ ​whole​ ​thing​ ​people were​ ​devastated.​ ​The​ ​last​ ​picture,​ ​‘Lilith’​ ​was​ ​raising​ ​her​ ​hand​ ​as​ ​if​ ​trying​ ​to​ ​alert​ ​those​ ​staring at​ ​the​ ​picture;​ ​a​ ​gesture​ ​of​ ​greeting,​ ​the​ ​longed​ ​for​ ​acknowledgment​ ​of​ ​all​ ​those​ ​gazing​ ​in​ ​at​ ​her was​ ​now​ ​more​ ​like​ ​a​ ​wave​ ​goodbye. People​ ​were​ ​outraged​ ​they​ ​had​ ​been​ ​tricked​ ​of​ ​course,​ ​but it​ ​was​ ​more​ ​than​ ​that.​ ​Hope​ ​had​ ​been​ ​taken​ ​from​ ​them.​ ​A​ ​dream​ ​everyone​ ​had​ ​wanted​ ​to believe​ ​so​ ​much​ ​was​ ​now​ ​irrevocably​ ​taken​ ​away​.​ ​The​ ​fairy​ ​music​ ​was​ ​gone​ ​and​ ​would never​ ​come​ ​back.

Lesley​ ​was​ ​naturally​ ​ostracised​ ​at​ ​almost​ ​every​ ​level​ ​of​ ​society.​ ​She​ ​and​ ​her​ ​father retreated​ ​until​ ​they​ ​were​ ​little​ ​more​ ​than​ ​recluses.​ ​Her​ ​father​ ​knew​ ​that​ ​a​ ​further​ ​reckoning​ ​was still​ ​to​ ​come,​ ​all​ ​the​ ​success​ ​Lesley​ ​had​ ​enjoyed​ ​was​ ​now​ ​to​ ​be​ ​taken​ ​away​ ​and​ ​the​ ​benefits she​ ​and​ ​he​ ​had​ ​been​ ​able​ ​to​ ​enjoy​ ​from​ ​that​ ​success​ ​would​ ​soon​ ​be​ ​claimed​ ​again.​ ​It​ ​was​ ​hard for​ ​him,​ ​but​ ​Lesley​ ​didn’t​ ​seem​ ​to​ ​notice.​ ​She​ ​spent​ ​longer​ ​and​ ​longer​ ​looking​ ​at​ ​the​ ​photos​ ​of Lilith,​ ​ordering​ ​and​ ​reordering​ ​them​ ​until​ ​even​ ​the​ ​slightest​ ​gesture​ ​of​ ​the​ ​woman​ ​was​ ​being scrutinized​ ​with​ ​laser-light​ ​intensity.​ ​Magnifying​ ​the​ ​expression​ ​on​ ​the​ ​face​ ​of​ ​her​ ​creation,​ ​she grew​ ​increasingly​ ​disturbed​ ​to​ ​recognise​ ​growing​ ​comprehension​ ​in​ ​each​ ​one,​ ​that​ ​she​ ​herself had​ ​no​ ​recollection​ ​of​ ​adding.​ ​​ ​Her​ ​art​ ​that​ ​had​ ​become​ ​something​ ​far​ ​more,​ ​had​ ​got​ ​away​ ​from her.