The Misty World of Arial Hollyberry

Night was quickly closing in around me and the path leading down to the little town of Willowmeer was becoming harder to see. If it weren’t for the kindness of the monk I met on the road I would have been lost for sure. I rubbed my eyes and glanced quickly around me. The deepening shadows must have been playing tricks because it seemed as if he materialized out of thin air.

With a humble nod, he greeted me silently,  palms pressed together in front of the Celtic cross that hung  around his neck. His tunic and cowl were dark gray. He wore the hood up, covering his head and obscuring his face.

“Brother, thank goodness you’re here. I had to park on the side of the road a ways back.”  I turned to point back the way I had come and continued. “There was sign posted saying that Willowmeer was a kilometer down this path. I had no idea a kilometer was so far or I would have waited until morning to make the hike. Could you tell me how much farther it is to the town?”

This mysterious friar moved closer, sending a chill breeze before him. It looked more like he glided than walked, then he stopped suddenly, close enough that I could hear his rasping breath. He gestured down the path, indicating with his fingers that it was only a short distance around the curve. I found it curious that he he wouldn’t speak, then remembered that certain monks take a vow of silence.  That must be it. I felt a little embarrassed that it took me so long to understand and said, “Please excuse me for my ignorance Brother, I understand, you’ve taken a vow of silence.”

He smiled. It was a sad smile. I could see his face a little better since he moved closer and there were deep lines of sorrow etched around his hazel eyes. With his hands stuck inside the large cuffs of his robes, he bowed, then started up the path that I had just come down. I held up my hand to stop him and touched the sleeve of his tunic. When he turned, it felt like my hand passed through his arm and  a shiver ran down my spine. I shook off the chill that had come over me, telling myself that there was nothing to fear from this mild monk. “It’s getting very dark, will I be into town before I lose my light completely?” He nodded and reached into a pouch that swung from the rope tied around his waist. When his hand emerged, he was holding a small lantern with a white candle. He brought the lantern close to his mouth and blew on the candle. I am not joking when I say that every hair on my head stood out as I watched the candle burst into flame.

I stood, frozen, looking at the monk for what seemed to be a eternity, then hesitantly took a step forward to take the glowing beacon he offered. He nodded at me and smiled that same sad smile, then turned again to make his way up the path. When I looked up from the light, he was gone, it was like he turned to smoke and vanished into the murkey forest.

The sun was low on the top of the hills that surrounded the little valley and the deepening shadows seemed to slither through the pines like ghostly wraiths.  A grassy meadow sloped down from the path and opened into a wide stretch of farmland dotted with small houses that had thatched roofs. As the shadows grew longer, a mist reached up from the ground with thin curling fingers and crawled through the glen, swallowing barns and fields, creeping closer to where I stood. I was startled from my thoughts by the quick, sharp hooting of an owl.

Holding the lantern out in front of me, I hurried down the path and around the bend. Looking back I thought I saw the form of the monk , hood up, arms tucked inside the sleeves of his robes, wavering on the edge of the trees.

© Tami Ruesch, The Misty World of Arial Hollyberry, 2009.

by Bill, guest blogger for today

My wife says the fairies call her the Kind One. Kind One, hummm. K.O. for short. In boxing K.O. means knock out. I guess that’s about right she’s always knocked me out. My KO, I think I’ll call her that from now on, it rolls off the tongue easy and is kind of fun. I don’t know what she is going to say, but unless she reacts with the boxing type of KO, I’m going to do it.

She says that the fairies told her that she has fairy blood and has descended from a line of enchanted royalty. That doesn’t surprise me either. She’s tall, on the slim side, and has a long graceful neck. That song that Jerry Lee Lewis used to sing where he said, “There’s nothing in the world like a long-necked girl, makes me feel so funny, makes me spend my money” is about right too. When you think about it nothing is more regal looking than a slender princess with a swan-like neck. Also, she has long auburn hair. It looks brown indoors, but in the sunlight the red glimmers through. Her eyes are green and again it’s in natural sunlight that you get the full effect. Ya,she still KO’s me.

She’s a strikingly beautiful Celtic lass. Going back many generations it isn’t inconceivable that with the way the Irish mixed it up with enchanted beings that she could have fairy blood after all. What is it that Shakespeare said? Oh, yeah “there are more things on heaven and earth , Horatio, than are dreamt of  in your philosophy.” Of course he was talking about ghosts and we’re discussing fairies. Fairies/ghosts, if you’ve got one, why not the other? And I do believe in ghosts I’ve had some up close and personal experiences with that lot. The ones I’ve met haven’t been been malicious, but still even the lost and confused ones can startle and unnerve you. Maybe I’ll tell you about them someday. If you really want to know and you ask nice.

I still don’t see the little critters, she insists that I do and that I just forget. Maybe she’s right, I do forget things sometimes. Just last week I gave her a birthday present a week early because I looked at the calendar wrong. I didn’t forget her birthday, I just remembered it early. I was forgiven because I picked out just the right thing.  Whew!

I may or may not see the fairies, but I am aware of KO’s comings and goings. I can look out the window and see her relaxing in the lounge on the patio, and the very next moment she’s gone. Sometimes I swear there is a quick golden shimmer left behind,  like when a photographer takes a picture with a flash, and it leaves that bright circle that stays in your vision for awhile. Yes, it is just like that.

I only tell you about this because that golden shimmer happened just this morning. When she gets back I’m sure she will write it down and we will all know about it.

When she returns from her travels in the fairy world she has these amazing tales to tell. She writes them down and I read them because I want to know where she is going and what is happening. Don’t you want to know what happens to the people you love too? Some of the stories scare me. She only wants to help the little darlings, but I’m afraid that harm might come to her by doing that. Without the fairy blood what could I do? Maybe we would have been better off if that darn portal was closed and closed permanently. I wonder if there is something I could do? Hummm.

We stood facing each other: a five foot, six inch tall human with long auburn hair and moss green eyes, holding out her hand, and a two inch faerie with  auburn hair hanging to her knees and bright crystal blue eyes, standing on the proffered hand.

The bright smile on Arial’s face quickly dissolved into a look of serious contemplation. With hands on hips, she paced back and forth from finger tips to wrist and back again, her wings casting a multicolored  array of sparkles in the morning sun. “Bill only sees faeries because he is so near to you. We block his memory later, this is how we protect our involvement with humankind.”

She motioned for me to sit down and continued. “Queen Orlaith knew that this day would come, that you would eventually start asking questions, and she has left the decision to me as to when you should be  enlightened.”  She cocked her head to one side as she looked at me closely, trying to decide if I could comprehend what she was about to tell me.

“Faerie vision runs in the bloodlines, it is past down from one generation to the next. Only those with faerie blood in their veins have the ability to develop the talent. Human men and women  have faerie vision only because it has been past down to them  through their family. We have noticed that the males don’t actually see faeries as much as they sense them or hear them. It is the females that can interact with faeries by seeing them in their physical form. Still, we have been surprised by the occasional male that can see us.”

By this time I was completely confused. Bloodlines? Inherited? I couldn’t decide if I was  being dense, or if , on some level, I didn’t want to hear what Arial was telling me. I chose to just sit there with my mouth shut and listen.

Arial drifted over to my shoulder where she could braid my hair while she continued. ” In the beginning of our history,The Tuatha De Danann settled in the northern most mountains of Ireland. They were a tall and graceful race of people who had magical abilities. The Formorians, who had settled the same area, were jealous of these newcomers and wished to posses their magic so they set out to conquer and enslave the Tuatha De Danann.”

“It wasn’t until after several conflicts that the two races decided to join together as families, thus preserving peace in the land. Bres, a Formorian King and Brighid, a fair daughter of the Tuatha De Danann, were wed. This was how humans with  faerie blood began.”

“There was peaceful coexistence until the Milesians challenged the Tuatha De Danann and won. At that point, the Tuatha De Danann retreated underground into a parallel realm.” Arial stood and shook her wings out, flipped them once and hovered in the air, gently swinging back and forth.

I jumped at the chance to ask the question. “Are you telling me that I have faerie blood in me?” Arial beamed, delighted that I had caught the jest of her story and proceeded to perform intricate spirals in the air. “But what does that have to do with Bill not being able to remember seeing faeries?”

Arial landed back on my shoulder and continued. “Our leaders were worried about the safety of those humans with faerie blood. If the Milesians ever found out, they would make sure that they ceased to exist. A group of faeries were charged with watching over and protecting these chosen ones, preparing for the time when they would help with the Tuatha De Danann’s return.”

“At first, there were enough faeries to carry out the task, but as the generations unfolded, we needed help. We relied on humans who didn’t have faerie vision, but who were blessed with exceptional intuition and sensitivity to watch over the chosen ones, we only stepped in as needed… Bill is your intuitive other half.”

My mind was reeling, could this be true? I had been so enthralled with Arial’s story that I hadn’t noticed the other faeries gathering in the branches above us. There were hundreds of them, sitting quietly among the soft green leaves, listening to the story (faeries do love a good story!). When Arial stopped talking, they all stood up and fluttered their wings giving the trees a wiggle picture effect.

Arial spoke again. “Your faerie blood is handed down to you through your mothers family. Your grandparents both had faerie blood. This happens sometimes because those with faerie blood are attracted to others of the same, it makes for a stronger bond to the lineage.”  She smiled brightly. “We can trace your ancestry  in a straight line back to Bres and Brighid. This something that very few can claim.”

“It is no accident that a portal to the faerie realm exists in your garden, Kind One,  the emerald guard and I are honored to carry on the task set forth so long ago.”

I sat up a little straighter, smiling to myself  I wondered if I could tell Bill all of this.

© Tami Ruesch, The Misty World of Arial Hollyberry, 2009.