The Misty World of Arial Hollyberry

Mother Nature has four seasons, Winter, Spring, Summer, and Autumn. We all know this, but what I have come to find out is that each season is ruled by a distinct group of faeries and the faeries have certain responsibilities that pertain to their particular season.

Winter is ruled by the frost faeries, it is their responsibility to see that the earth rests. They cover the world in a blanket of ice and snow and the plants go dormant, preparing to renew with the coming of warmer months.

Spring is ruled by the flower faeries. They have the difficult assignment of convincing the frost faeries that it is time for the earth to thaw and bring forth new life. With the burden  of displacing the winter behind them, they turn their attention to the rebirth of nature, the flower faeries have the responsibility of encouraging new growth. Not long ago, I saw a tiny faerie pulling a crocus  out of the ground and spreading the bright yellow flower petals open. Every flower and plant has a faerie to help it grow and flourish.

When the flower faeries have persuaded the trees to leaf out, the grass to  grow, and the flowers to bloom, when they have whispered to every bulb and seed, they yield to the Fire Faeries of Summer. These spicy little faeries have the responsibility of bringing light and energy to the world. In the far distant past, fire was regarded as the giver of life, because if the clan’s fire went out, the clan perished. In order to produce the fruits of the field, the earth needs it’s heat.

These fiery sprites of summer are just as strong willed as the frost faeries and can remain far into autumn. When they stay that long we call it an Indian summer. The fall faeries have the responsibility of preparing nature for the coming of winter, they must convince these denizens of summer to move south so that the earth can rest again. The circle of life continues.

The flower faeries began appearing for the Spring Solstice. I remember Arial saying that their sisters had arrived, but with all the commotion of the celebration, and having to deal with the freezing anger of Queen Orlith, I hadn’t been able to give them my full attention.

Today, while I was doing my usual spring inspection, I noticed two little faeries tiptoeing around on the periwinkle. Every few steps, they would point their wands at the ground cover and a blue-purple flower would appear. It was still terribly cold, but flowers were starting to bloom and the trees were beginning to leaf out. Spring, it seems, can not be contained. Orlaith must solve the problem of the missing faerie, and she must do it quickly.

No sooner had the thought had crossed my mind, when Arial materialized in front of me. “I was just thinking of you! What are we going to do about this awful frigid weather? Queen Orlaith has to stop before she freezes all the fruit.”

“I have been to see the queen. Our sister faeries of the spring have sent a  mediator to consult with Orlaith and bring  an end to winter. Orlaith remains firm on the subject of the missing faerie, and promises that the fruit blossoms will not survive her cold anger if the faerie that is being held by the shape shifter is not released.”

I stared out the kitchen window at the flower faeries, who had moved on to the Laurel bushes and were busy coxing  the flower spikes out of the leaves. “You said you had a plan, I guess I’ll have to hear it, or risk having all the flowers shrivel away.” I turned to face Arial and found that another faerie had joined her and was currently sitting on the edge of the counter swinging her tiny feet back and forth and fluttering her shiny wings in the sunlight.

Arial beamed,”This is Cythia, flower faerie liaison to Queen Orlaith” Cythia sprung to her feet, flipped her wings and whizzed over to hang three inches from my nose. I couldn’t help noticing that the wings of a spring faerie were shiny instead of sparkly like the wings of the  frost faeries.

“I have heard wonderful things about your garden!” She managed a mid air curtsy. “Do not worry, we will get the faerie Krystal back. Queen Orlaith will then release her hold on nature and all the tender shoots of spring will prosper. But we will need your help.”

Arial sat on my shoulder in an attempt to be reassuring as I watched Cythia produce a small bottle of cloudy green liquid.

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

There’s a time of day where the light in the sky is the same, whether dusk, or dawn. Have you ever fallen asleep and woke up not knowing how long you slept? You can’t tell from the light in the sky. Is it six in the morning, or six in the evening? What time was it when I went to sleep? Have you had that surreal feeling that you slept all night (or day). Sometimes the only way to get your balance back is to run through the house looking for someone else. Someone that you can ask what the time  is, and risk appearing the fool when you ask, “Did I sleep so long that I missed something?” They will look at you strangely, I promise,  when you follow up with, “You know, is it today or tomorrow?” It’s a very disorienting feeling.

That’s exactly how I felt when, after long frantic discussions, held in hushed tones, and a flurry of tense activity by the faeries in the emerald guard, Arial finally decided to open the portal so that we could go home.

She pointed her wand at the ivy hedge, sending out  a beam of blinding white light that penetrated the vines. As she whispered something in elvish, the gnarled branches began to fold back on themselves, groaning and creaking as they twined around, finally producing an archway large enough for us to pass under.

The night was starting to bow to the birth of a new day in the faerie realm, but as we stepped through the portal into the mortal world, the light in the sky was the light of sunset. Dusk and dawn, yin and yang, I was beginning to see how intertwined our world was with the transcendental world of the Fae. One world can’t exist alone, each is dependent on the existence of the other.

We had barely passed through the arch when the hedge begrudgingly filled back in, letting us know with every groan that it resented being disturbed at this early hour (I couldn’t help wondering if the hedge, being the boundary for both worlds, regarded the hour as early, or late). Arial and two other faeries remained with us, while the others stayed in the realm to continue their vigilant guard of the portal.

Jet lag drains all the energy out of you, and even though we hadn’t traveled across physical time zones, we had traveled across time, so we retired to the upstairs earlier than we would normally and fell into bed exhausted from our recent adventure. The last thing I remember Bill saying was, “Wow, our pillows smell good!”

We woke up this morning to a blizzard of whiteout proportions. It’s not unusual for us to have a spring snow storm, but this was furious driving snow that beat against the windows making them rattle like they might crack and break. It didn’t feel right, this storm, and it wasn’t until Arial appeared as we were having our coffee that I understood why.

“Queen Orlaith is livid!” I traveled to the northern realm to ask the queen’s council on the disappearance of the faerie, Krystil. I told her we suspect that Mrs. Shunner has taken her away to a dark place to drain her of her magic.”

Arial saw Odette on the floor trying to get our attention by waving her coffee cup. She floated down and grabbed under her arms, then shot back up to the top of the counter and  gently let her down. I got an eyedropper full of coffee and filled the little mug that she held out. “Didn’t want to be stopping the conversation now!” She took a sip, “I’ll be thankin’ ya for the brew.”

Arail continued, “Orlaith flew, enraged, to the topmost tower of her castle. Turning to face the south, holding her arms out in front of her, she pursed her lips, and with fire in her eyes, blew out a thin wisp of  frost. She turned back to me with instructions to return quickly, that I might keep the biting cold out of your garden.”

“This breath of frost gathered shape and intensity, it grew into a powerful freezing storm, prepared to do Orlaith’s bidding. Orlaith instructed the storm to pound down on the shape shifter, demonstrating the full power of the Queen’s anger at the audacity she showed when she took a member of the queen’s realm. I barely made it back ahead of the storm!”

We  huddled together under blankets on the couch, listening to the wind whistle around the corners of the house. It sounded like it was going to tear the awnings off. There is a sign hanging on the wall leading to the backyard, that is if it’s still there, it reads: “DON’T PISS OFF THE FAERIES!” I always wondered what would happen, and I’m glad that Orlaith and I are on good terms.

“Arial?” The queen’s daughter backed away from the window and turned to face me, I could see from the look in her bright green eyes that a plan was  forming in the back of her mind. “Arial, I can appreciate the queen’s anger, and it doesn’t surprise me that it took the form of snow, but, this storm is freezing everyone, not just Mrs. Shunner.”

“Yes, that is true.” She casually spun around my head, stopping right in front of me. “There is another way…”

© Tami Ruesch, The Misty World of Arial Hollyberry,

Arial, the captain of the emerald guard, and her second in command stood together in front of the ivy hedge. Bringing the fiery red tips of their wands together, they focused a beam of immense energy toward the portal. You could see the shimmering of the energy field as the edges of every leaf began to glow.

We stood with the rest of the guard, waiting for the all clear sign, watching the hedge glow and shimmer in the cold night air. It looked like it was on fire but there was no heat. I was rather hoping for some warmth, all I had around my shoulders was the blue shawl that I wore to the party. Bill felt me start to shiver and pulled me closer.

A loud thud came from the far side of the hedge, then, the sound of something heavy being dragged along the ground. The wild rustling had stopped. There was an eeriness to the silence that followed and it felt like the whole world was holding its breath.

After what seemed to be an eternity, Arial broke off the energy beam and the glowing ivy leaves slowly returned to normal. We all strained to hear any signs of life on the other side, but the only sound we could hear was the stream gurgling over the rocks as it made its way down the hill.

” Arial, is it safe to go home now? Whatever it was slouched away, it’s gone.” I was getting colder by the minute and this was starting to make me mad. How dare they (whoever “they” were) come into my back yard and keep us from our home. What was even worse was that they were on the mortal side where dangerous magical things weren’t supposed to be. Everything was turned inside out.

“I will send scouts through to investigate. I am not completely sure it is safe. If that was your neighbor, she might have morphed into a bush and is there waiting for the portal to open. Right now she doesn’t know where the opening is, but  she knows that there is one in the garden. We can’t take the chance of crossing over until we know she has gone.

Four flashes of light streaked past us and darted toward the hedge. The faeries stopped in front of Arial and hung in the air, their wings sparkling in the dark. After they had received their instructions they split up, two going down the hedge to the right, and the other two going left. When they had gone several yards, they shot straight up and disappeared from sight.

“It won’t be long before we have you home Kind One! Oh, but you are shivering, I am so sorry not to have noticed sooner, allow me!” Arial waved her wand and a bright yellow bubble surrounded us. Instantly, the cold dissappeared  and was replaced with radiating warmth. Bill looked at me and smiled, “now that’s what I call service!”

It hadn’t been two minutes before the scouting party returned in a frenzy. The faeries spun around Arial in a flurry, squeaking and squealing, all talking at once with a frantic pitch to their voices. Something was very wrong, and then I saw, only three faeries had returned.

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