I am. For me, well- as Luteia, I was faehearted. A Devil, a malevolent deity; queen of the realm, of demons, and of the mortal fae who inhabited it.
Had I not been born a demon in the Gray World, had someone else been the devil, I am sure I would have been a mortal fae in the Twice-Lit World.
Fae are very… familiar to me. They’re like the songs you grow up listening to in your father’s truck, and suddenly you hear that song again after twenty-five years. It’s so old, so familiar, that it’s a part of you.
We might have been angels and demons in the Gray World, but we came from the flowers and the flora in the forest, and we were still some type of fae.
While I lean more to the Celtic fae, all fae are still familiar to me. The faery encyclopedias I own describe a new type of fae and my reaction isn’t “Huh, cool, didn’t know about that”, it’s “So that’s what they call them, and that’s where they are.”
My introduction to the fae as a child was Fairy Dust and the Quest for the Egg by Gail Carson Levine. Hardcover, with all the watercolours.
I might not be fae in the way I am a demon. I might not have lived as fae. But I have been around them and with their knowledge for as long as I can remember. They say if you live with faeries long enough, you eventually become one yourself. Well, I might not have become a fully-fledged faery, but I’m sure I’m halfway there.
I know I’m not a real faery, like Dana and a good chunk of my followers. But if I tried, I could pass as one, and they’re too familiar to me to not acknowledge that.
Or something. I just woke up and I slept on my wings so everything hurts.