Alright, let’s crack open the Immortal Gazette and dive into one of the eeriest fae legends—The Legend of the Changeling.
The Immortal Gazette: The Changeling Curse—When the Fae Steal Your Own
The candlelight flickered in the Immortal Gazette’s grand storytelling chamber, casting shifting shadows along the walls. Alice, legs draped over the armrest of her chair, lazily twirled a silver quill between her fingers. Across from her, Loki leaned back, boots propped up on the table, an amused smirk playing on his lips. Rumplestiltskin, ever the dramatist, hunched over the table with a knowing glint in his eye.
Alice sighed theatrically. “Alright, darlings, tonight’s tale is one of the oldest and most disturbing fae legends—the story of the Changeling.”
Loki arched an eyebrow. “Ah, the classic ‘your baby’s been swapped for a creepy fae child’ scenario?”
Rumplestiltskin chuckled darkly. “Oh, it’s far worse than that.”
Alice’s grin widened. “Indeed it is. You see, mortals have always feared the fae, but none of their fears quite match the terror of discovering that the child they’ve been raising… isn’t theirs at all.”
Loki sat forward, suddenly intrigued. “Alright, spin the tale. Let’s hear why parents used to panic every time their kid cried too much.”
The Tale of the Changeling
Long ago, before mortals understood the fickle nature of the fae, a mother in a quiet village gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. He was perfect—rosy-cheeked, wide-eyed, and full of life. For months, he cooed and laughed in her arms.
But then… something changed.
One night, under the pale light of the full moon, the mother woke to an eerie stillness in the house. The baby, once lively, now lay in his crib, unmoving. She rushed to him, only to find his skin clammy, his eyes darker than she remembered. The baby no longer laughed, no longer cooed—only stared with unsettling intensity.
The villagers whispered behind their hands. “The fae have stolen her child,” they said. “They’ve left a changeling in his place.”
Alice leaned in, voice dropping to a dramatic hush. “And here’s where it gets interesting. In old folklore, changelings weren’t just different—they were fae creatures masquerading as human infants. They were left behind as spies, or worse, because the fae had an unsettling love for beautiful human children.”
Loki tapped his fingers on the table. “And let me guess—the parents didn’t take kindly to realizing their bundle of joy was an imposter?”
Rumplestiltskin’s grin was wicked. “Oh, not at all. The old stories say there were ways to test if a child was a changeling. Some believed that if you placed iron near the crib—fae detest iron—the creature would shriek in pain. Others believed you could trick it into revealing itself. Leave an empty eggshell by the fire, and if the baby suddenly speaks in an ancient, knowing voice, laughing about its age, congratulations! You’re raising a fae.”
Alice smirked. “Of course, some of the ‘cures’ for a changeling were downright horrifying. A desperate mother might throw the child into a river, or place it in a fire, hoping the fae would take it back and return her real baby.”
Loki whistled. “Yikes. And what actually happened? The fae just laughed as they watched a bunch of terrified humans toss their kids into rivers?”
Rumplestiltskin shrugged. “Depends on the tale. Some say the true child was returned if the fae were pleased… or if they found the mortals too boring to bother with anymore. Others say the stolen children were lost forever, raised in the fae realm, never to age, never to return.”
Alice tapped the side of her head. “It’s fascinating, really. A perfect blend of old superstitions, human fear, and fae mischief. And what’s worse? The idea that changelings could still be out there.”
Loki smirked. “You’re saying there could be full-grown fae walking among the mortals right now? Raised as humans but never quite belonging?”
Alice’s grin was positively wicked. “Oh, my dear trickster, wouldn’t that be a fun little secret?”
The Verdict: Be Wary of the Fae
The legend of the changeling is one of the oldest fae tales in folklore, spreading across Celtic, Norse, and even Germanic traditions. Whether a warning against fae trickery or a tragic misunderstanding of human conditions like illness or autism in ancient times, one thing remains: the fear of the other. The idea that something so close to us—a child, a sibling, a loved one—could be something else entirely.
And in the realm of fae legends, nothing is ever as it seems.
Loki stretched, shaking his head with amusement. “So what’s the moral here? Trust no baby?”
Rumplestiltskin chuckled. “Or better yet—don’t leave your doors open on a full moon. You never know who—or what—might come in.”
Alice smirked. “And most importantly? If your child suddenly develops an unsettling stare and a wicked sense of humor... maybe, just maybe, they aren’t yours at all.”
🖋️✨📜🖤
