The Misty World of Arial Hollyberry

The other day I walked into my magic room to find a couple of rather nasty goblins under my desk. They were hunched over and chewing on my computer cables. After chasing them around the room for a few minutes I called Arial to help get rid of the nefarious creatures. “Arial! come quick! There are sneaky goblins reeking havoc on my computer!” Arial shot into the room followed by two glowing fire fairies. They formed a triangle around the two little slimy green beasts, pointed their wands at at the center and chanted:

“Goblins green in face and arm

Here to do the Kind One harm

Be ye gone by count of three

Lest we fairies clobber thee”

Streaks of bright green light flashed from the fairie wands and surrounded the offending pair of goblins in a glowing bubble, then vanished in a burst of sparkles leaving only a  faint trace of footprints. Arial checked around the room to make sure that there were no more intruders. “That should do it. I think that it will be a long while before those two decide to come over again”

I turned on the computer and tried to get on the internet. “Shoot! They have fried the modem cable.” I checked to see if the lights on the router were flashing, nope, all dark. “Oh no, they wrecked the router too.” I looked over at Arial and the other fairies. “It’s going to take at least a week before I have this all replaced, what are people going to think if I don’t keep them up to date on the fairie happenings?”

Arial landed on my shoulder, her usual place, and whispered in my ear. “If you write it, they will come.” Yeah, yeah, I know, ever since Arial discovered videos she spends entirely to much time watching TV. She is a HUGE fan of Kevin Costner. I had to think for a minute. “I guess I could try to tweet on my cell phone until my network is up and running again, it won’t be the same, but I guess it will have to do. I wonder how they came through the portal, isn’t it invisible anymore?”

The three fairies put their heads together in a huddle then Arial floated back to my shoulder and stood with her hands behind her back. “It is the opinion of my colleagues that they came through the night you came back from the Midsummer celebration. Honeyed mead can make fairies a little, oh, how shall I say it, light headed.” I frowned at her. “So what you’re saying is that no one noticed that we had two to  many people in our group?” She giggled.”We do love our celebrations.” She stood a little taller and flipped her wings. “But we are now focused on the task at hand once more, never fear.” The two fire faeries slid up beside her, nodding agreement.

“Well, the damage is done, there is nothing else to do but go forward from here. Just make sure that the emerald guard is watching the portal.” I thought back to the day the trolls hairy arm came through the ivy. “It could have been a much scarier creature.” The three of them spun around my head, smiling and whispering words of consolation, then they winked out of sight. I have noticed something about the fire faeries, the air shimmers around them. The more determined they get, the more defined the shimmer becomes. When Arial and the two fire faeries winked out, the fire faeries had a very heavy shimmer around them.

I looked out the window to see Lilly heading down the street toward her little white house, it looked like she was talking to someone, but there was no one with her that I could see. I squinted my eyes and looked harder, nope, there wasn’t anyone else with her, not that I could see anyway. There is something more to her than she is letting on. I made a mental note to visit her again, maybe I can figure out what it is.

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

“Summer Procession”      by David Delamare

The air was full of iridescent blue-green dragonflies and faeries whose wings  crackled with energy. They circled and dived, then circled again. The elves in the trees came out to watch the aerial display. Every so often a faerie would suddenly appear with a loud pop, sending a shower of red, orange, and yellow sparkles out in every direction. This was what I had seen coming through the trees earlier, this faerie firework display.

Suddenly, the show halted. The dragonflies landed on the tree branches all around us, reflecting the sunlight in shimmering blue-green flashes. The faeries had drifted quietly to the ground and were hovering a few inches above the ferns on either side of the path. A hush fell over the clearing. The elves had ceased their murmurings and stood in respectful silence.

Coming through trees just ahead of us was a large gleaming sphere carrying a faerie in a glittering red gown. She had hair that looked like fire, red turning to orange, turning to yellow and her crown was made up entirely of interwoven lightening bolts that were constantly flashing around her head (it reminded me of the Wizard of Oz when Glinda arrived in munchkin land, only not that big).

There were faeries gliding along the ground on either side. Their wings were tall and thin, coming to a long, point.  Glittering lights followed the intricate design of veins that detailed each wing. I realized that these were the fire faeries of summer and that the spectacular faerie in the carriage must be their queen.

The procession halted in front of Elendain, who bowed deeply as the queen emerged. The faerie queen circled her wand in the air, spreading a bright yellow light above her, growing in size until she was as tall as the mistress of  the Elvenwood.

The royal pair hugged each other in greeting. “We are honored by your presence, Litha, Queen of the fire faeries, and want to welcome you and your court to our forest. Peace be with you.” Litha’s eyes sparkled and her smile warmed her face as she continued to hold Elendain’s hands. “We come in friendship and gratitude. We are indebted to you for saving the Kind One.”

I stood watching the gracious diplomacy of the two queens feeling small and inadequate, like I had been some what of a bother. It must have shown on my face because Litha turned and approached me. She glided up to me and held me in her arms. “My dear, we were so worried about you.” She held me at arms length and looked at me, tears glistening in her eyes. “I do not know what the future would bring if anything had happened to you. You are more important than you suspect, but that is the charm of your human half.”

There it was again, the half faerie blood thing. I sure wish I knew how to use it to my advantage. “Queen Litha, all of this…” I gestured around me, “is so far over my head. I am learning of things that I had no idea existed, of places I thought belonged  only in bedtime stories.”

Litha smiled and winked at me. “It is all quite something is it not? We have a very important celebration to attend so we must be going.” She turned again to Elendain who had stepped up behind her and they hugged one final time. “Hail and farewell Queen Litha, may your journey be smooth and your nights be filled with stars.”

Litha waved her wand and a brightly woven rug appeared, hovering two feet off the ground. She motioned for me to sit on it. “A flying carpet!? I feel like I’m in one hundred and one Arabian nights!” She laughed at the analogy. “Well, why not, it is a long journey, you might as well be comfortable.” She returned to her crystal bubble and waved at Elendain. “May you only know peace and happiness, Elendain, Mistress of Elvenwood.”

With that, the entire court of fire faeries rose into the air, flying carpet, dragonflies, and all, then darted toward the west, where the sun was already beginning to set.

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

I had completely forgotten about the night nettle quill. “That’s right! My knee went numb, and then…and then…I can’t remember anything, except that we were worried about…trolls?” Elendain and Odette exchanged knowing glances. “Goblins missus.”  Odette offered a weak smile and patted me on the hand. “That’s okay missus, it’s best ya don’t remember, things turned out just fine.”

I uncovered my knee. It was a little swollen and bright pink. There was a small black dot in the middle where the quill had stuck. Elendain moved over and felt around the knee cap. “The swelling is going down nicely, stand up and see if you can walk on it.” I stood as directed, aside from a dull ache when I bent it, it seemed ok. I looked up at the tall elven queen. “I can walk on it, it’s hard to bend, but it doesn’t hurt much.” I walked over to the window of the circular room and looked out at the sun in the treetops.

The ground below was shrouded in early morning mist that swirled around the massive trunks of the trees. As I stood watching, a large hairy arm with long, grimy green nails shot out of the fog and grabbed onto a low hanging branch.  A low throaty groan echoed through the valley as the beast attempted to heave itself up the tree toward one of the lower elven dwellings.

I jumped back. “What is it with these hairy arms all the time? Shooting out of anywhere and everywhere!” Elendain peered over the edge then pulled a small silver flute from around her neck. She quickly played four or five high sharp notes. A crowd of Elves flooded from the dwellings above us. They took positions along the rope bridges and prepared to send a volley of arrows toward the matted hairy form.

The Undak reached for another branch and slowly pulled itself out of the mist, closer to its intended goal. As soon as its body had cleared the hazy gloom, twenty arrows sped through the morning light, hitting their target in perfect unison. The Undak fell back with a thunderous roar. Grabbing at the arrows it fell, parting the swirling mist and hitting the ground with a heavy thud.

Without a sound, the archers disappeared back into their respective huts. Elendain played another series of notes, high and thin. A new group of elves moved down the bridges toward the motionless pile of greasy hair. I looked down at Odette who was jumping up and down, frantically trying to get a glimpse of the frightening beast. I picked her up so she could see and pointed out the window at the group. “They must be the clean up crew.” She made a grimace, “Tis a frightful sight.” She turned her head. “Lets not look anymore.”

I nodded agreement and we followed Elendain through the door, heading for higher ground, and the bright morning sunlight.

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