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At the first of the year I sat down to continue Arial’s adventures. Anyone who writes a blog knows that behind the scenes of a blog is the dashboard where we write, edit, arrange, and post comments…we all love comments! Nothing can make a writers confidence soar like a glowing comment, and after flying with the faeries at Midsummer, that’s saying something.
This particular morning I had received a comment from CC saying that she had just found my blog and liked it so much that she was going to write an “Ember” chapter on her blog about Ember’s interaction in Arial Hollyberry’s world. I was intrigued. I had been searching the web for like-minded bloggers. Others who write in the realm of fantasy, regardless of subject matter (you know, giants, dragons, gremlins, mermaids, unicorns, or…the fae). What I found were a lot of sites that had product or were simply informational. I guess it isn’t popular to write stories on the internet just for the love of the story, or to entertain others.
Anyway, CC writes a blog called “Ember in Wrilogonzia“Her idea is simple, she created the characters and other bloggers take turns writing her characters into their own blogs with links back to the previous chapters on CC’s site so that anyone could follow where Ember ends up. What a concept! Ember has now been dropped into the Misty World of Arial Hollyberry by the dragon Illustratia and from the very beginning we became good friends.
Bill tells me that I take the long way round to making my point…yes, I get wordy! My point is that CC has honored me with two awards:
Can you feel the love!? CC gets two thumbs up for her work and her sincere support of other bloggers! Big hugs to CC. I invite everyone to visit CC’s blog and start at the beginning of Embers story.
Something was wrong! I didn’t know what it was, but my heart started doing a Gene Krupa drum solo in my chest and my breathing stopped, then started with a squeak. I thought I was having a heart attack. Men my age have them, you know, but I’ve learned the warning signs of a heart attack and this wasn’t it, nor was it a stroke. I think it was a panic attack. I was panicked but without a cause. Doesn’t that seem odd?
I was looking out the kitchen window at the ivy covered back fence. I stood there shaking and grasping the sink until my physical sensations settled down. That’s when I saw it. There was a beam of light like laser pointers, only it was an icky green instead of red. It was aimed at the ivy near the round outdoor thermometer. I couldn’t tell where it was coming from. My best guess was across the street, but lasers pointed at the moon 238.000 miles away have illuminated spots that were seen from earth. If this was a laser its source could be anywhere there was a direct line of sight.
As I watched the green pinpoint started to grow and the ivy leaves scorched where it touched. I was shocked but fascinated. I had never seen anything like this and I wondered what I should do. If it grew any bigger it could cause some real damage. What if it shifted from the fence to the house? That’s when I got scared. We had to get out. We had to let someone know that our fence was under attack by, by what?
I didn’t know but I didn’t want to wait any longer to find out. I went rushing through the house yelling for my wife, but she didn’t answer. I didn’t know she was out, but she sure wasn’t in. I grabbed for the dogs who were yapping like a pack of idiots because they didn’t know what was going on. Better to yap than to be caught unprepared. The silly things ran away from me every time I tried to pick them up. I had to herd them into a couple of kennels so I could carry them out to the car. You’d think a four pound dog couldn’t put up much of a fuss, but they can. I don’t know if they were reacting to my fright or if they sensed something wrong too. They were bumping, and thumping against the sides of the kennel so hard that I could barely hold on to them. The handles on top were straining and I was afraid that they might break and they’d tumble down the stairs kennels and all. I was lucky, no breaks.
We reached the back door when I heard something strange above the caterwauling of the dogs. I know, dogs don’t caterwaul, but these three were coming very close to disproving that belief. It was loud, and obnoxious, and high pitched. I didn’t think I could hear a bomb go off in the din they created. But I heard something. It sounded like a woman shouting at me, “Mr. Bill, Mr. Bill don’t go away and forget us! We’re scared too.”
“Wha?”
It must have been the ringing in my ears and my overactive imagination. “Nah,” I thought, “I didn’t hear anything.”
Then just as I turned back to the door again, I heard it again, “Mr. Bill, don’t you dare leave this house without us!”
I turned around and there standing just outside of the kitchen were two little people only six inches tall. My eyes bugged out. I dropped the kennels, which caused the dogs to get louder if that was even possible, and I fell down hard on my butt. “Oh great,” I thought, “Here I am running around the house like a crazy person, scaring the wits out of our dogs, and the truth is I’ve gone around the bend to the funny farm and climbed the slippery basket-weaver’s tree.”
The little folk took this chance with me seated on the ground to run up my legs, scramble up my shirt and perch on my shoulder. The female said, “Hurry, we have to go. There is going to be a breach in the portal and we can’t be here when it happens.”
I didn’t move. The male of the pair slapped my ear and yelled, “Get up, yer big lug — we don’t have time for yer amazement. You can be amazed later — right now we gotta go.” With that he yanked the hair at the nape of my neck and screamed, “Go, go, go!”
So I did. Luckily the car door opened easily. In went the kennels. The tiny folks scrambled from my shoulders on to the front seat beside me. I jerked the door closed and backed the car down the drive. There wasn’t a moment to lose, I turned and shot down the street. Car, kennels, little guys and me, rushing headlong into the darkness. I glanced over at the little man and woman struggling to get under the broad seat belt and started to think. Were these the gnomes that lived under our sink? My wife said they were there, but I had never seen them. Not until today that is. What else has she been talking about that seemed too fanciful to be believed — fairies, shape shifters, and centaurs? What if it was all true? What if? The thought made my stomach queasy. I didn’t want to think about it anymore. Besides I had better figure out where we were going and what we were going to do once we got there.
© Tami Ruesch, The Misty World of Arial Hollyberry, 2009-2010
Why is Bill surprised? Visit “Real Men Don’t See Faeries”
Be sure to check out the post “What Lurks in the Dark Wood?” to catch up on the action
Related posts: “At the Request of the Queen”
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Dressed in their finest, Arial and the emerald guard escorted the Kind One to the winter queen’s palace. The grand hall was transformed for the faeries high holiday of Yule. It is the only time the queens of the four seasons, Orlaith, Alina, Litha and Mab are ever seen together. Residents from throughout the realm were arriving to celebrate winter’s return, and hoping to get an audience with the queens.
The lights dimmed and the procession of the queens began. In the soft light The Kind One noticed other mortals standing in the crowd but her curiosity melted when Mab, the queen of autumn herself stopped right in front of her and extended and invitation to attend a special meeting at midnight by the great crystal doors of the palace. The Kind One was told that the other mortals would be there, and Mab would bestow a gift upon her.
~~~~~~~~
The air in the room took on the subtle smell of wood smoke and the musty scent of falling leaves as Mab approached our small circle. Her dress of red and black billowed around her, and her crown of fall harvest and leaves bobbled in the soft light of the winter palace.
She greeted each of us, with a warm hug and bright smile. It appeared that she already knew each of us, but how? I hadn’t met her until tonight, and judging by the looks on all the faces, I assumed that they hadn’t ether. I stood a little to one side of the group and watched as she laughed and chatted with the others. Mab has a charming, easygoing, off-beat way about her. The muss of leaves in her hair and her yellow and orange striped socks under a black and red plaid dress proved she was a character. I loved her immediately.
Mab looked around and saw that I was holding back a little, taking in the scene, and gestured for me to come closer. “Kind One, please, do join us. You must meet everyone.” The group turned as one and joined her in her bidding, all speaking at the same time. “Yes, come join us. So nice to meet you! Don’t be shy. What’s your name again?” They were all so friendly and inviting. I moved closer to join the group, making a mental note of the warmth and fellowship. Who was it that told me that those with faerie blood would come together to help save our world? In the midst of all the excitement and introductions I couldn’t quite remember.
When Mab was certain we were all together she made her way around the circle to introduce us. “Thank you all for coming tonight! What a special pleasure it is to see my faerie brothers and sisters from the mortal world here with us this Yule.” Mab smiled brightly and the room, as if it had a life of its own, radiated pure joy. “Now, you must all get to know each other for you will all become part of the grand design for the future of your world and ours.” Mab stopped in front of the petite woman I had seen earlier at the ball.
“Everyone, this is Sparkle, she loves bright colors and it is reflected in her art. Her intuition has led her to us through her painting, only one with faerie blood can paint so gloriously.” She gave Sparkle a hug and moved to put her arm around the gentleman standing by her side. “This is the Word Master. He was drawn to Sparkle in a quest to understand himself and was fascinated by her fascination with the realm. What he came to find was that he, too, had faerie blood flowing through his veins.” The Word Master bowed deeply and Mab moved on.
She continued around until she had introduced everyone,
telling about the special traits that made each of us “faeries by blood”. “This is the Sculptress, she has a talent with the “shroomie” beings of the realm, and they in turn inspire her art. Her faerie blood makes is possible to communicate with these shy creatures.
” Jewel followed. “Jewel, like the Sculptress, is drawn by her faerie blood to the natural arts, but instead of looking at the forest floor for inspiration, she looks to the sky. Jewel is influenced by the Dryads. Her special talent is finding the spirit within the leaves of sacred trees.” I looked around; there was only one more person to introduce before Mab got to me. Golden Heart.
“Golden Heart’s glowing countenance is only second to her striking black hair.
She is the caregiver, the person always ready to volunteer. She has unfailing kindness for everyone she meets. Her faerie blood gives her the ability to see the good in all mortals.”
I stood in awe of the wonderful talent that each of these people brought with them and was caught up in my thoughts when Mab finally turned to me. I couldn’t for the life of me see what special abilities my faerie blood gave me. What could she say? I do a good garden, which the faeries love to come and play in it. I felt Mab’s presence right in front of me and shook the wild thoughts out of my head, but I saw in her eyes that she already knew what I had been thinking.
Mab whispered in my ear, “Do not underestimate your powers Kind One, you are a very important piece of the puzzle.” She turned and spoke to the group. “This is the Kind One, she is having a hard time understanding her place in such an influential group, but knows this, it is the subtle strength of will that she possesses, that allows her the ability to hold the energy of an entire region in the west. Her faerie blood drew her toward one of the portals of the realm just in time to keep the Undak from entering the mortal world.” Everyone exhaled a collective sigh as they rushed toward me for a group hug. I have to say that Mab made my adventures sound important and dangerous, real cloak and dagger stuff. I thought about that for almost two seconds before I was awash with bodies. I didn’t think what had been happening was so special but at the moment I didn’t care, I just liked being included.
The Autumn queen stood back and watched with delight as the mortals who were part faerie talked and laughed then stepped forward and addressed us once more. “My time in the palace of the Winter queen grows short but before I go I want you all to have my gift.” Silence fell over the great hall as we waited in anticipation of the final gift of the faeries. Mab held her wand out and waved it over her up turned palm. An image wavered over her hand flickering in and out like it had no intention of materializing. She frowned and gave the air a little stab. The image solidified into a soft golden bag.
The queen worked her way around the circle we had made. Stopping in front of us, she pulled out a small ivory horn that was rimmed with gold and hanging from a golden chain. The horn was about two inches long. She draped it around our neck and moved on to the next person. “My gift to you is the gift of communication. With The Horn of Aeon Myst you can summon the fae or hear great distances. You would be wise to keep it close to you at all times. The Armies of darkness will stop at nothing to take it from you if they know you possess it.” Six mouth’s dropped open and six pairs of eyes stared at her in shocked disbelief.
Mab backed away and clapped her hands. Six faeries of the fall queen’s court appeared in a flash of rusty sparkles. Before they all winked out Mab turned to face us, she wore an impish grin. “You should see your faces!” She laughed, and her court echoed her mirth. We looked around us and relaxed. The faerie court rose into the air as one, and from the fog of sparkles I heard Mab’s voice, “Remember Kind One to always keep the Horn of Aeon Myst close to you.”
© Tami Ruesch, The Misty World of Arial Hollyberry, 2009-2010
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If you want your children to be brilliant, read them fairy tales. If you want them to be geniuses, read them more fairy tales. ~Albert Einstein~









