The Misty World of Arial Hollyberry

While celebrating her new found ability to mind-link with Ember Innocenzi, the Kind One remembered that there are more serious matters back at the ivy hedge. Menacing forces were trying to breach the portal and her family was in serious danger.

Before her fears could run away with her, Arial intervened. “Don’t give into panic–there is a better way,” she said, and she invited the Kind One to think about what she had learned from the queens, and her interactions with the faeries. After pondering the gifts she carried with her in a small pouch around her neck, and with a little help from Arial, the Kind One was suddenly overcome with clarity of purpose…the items she carried were not just friendship tokens, they were tools with immense power.

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I stood, shocked by the scene that confronted me when I finally returned to my cozy garden. The sun had long since set behind the mountains on the far side of the valley and shadows were getting darker under the trees, but there was still enough light left in the sky to make out a line of scorched grass that wove from the sidewalk to the ivy hedge. The path of devastation crossed the ivy, weaving up and down, leaving brittle, dead leaves littering the ground.

The laurel bushes at the back of my patio sit just to the left of the ivy hedge that conceals the portal, the small opening that leads to the faerie realm. The location of the portal is a tightly held secret, only a few of us know its exact location. Last year, our neighbor, Mrs. Shunner, a disgraced shape shifter who had been banished from the realm, started snooping around, trying to find the opening. Arial’s elite emerald guard started patrolling it 24/7 ever since.

Tears came to eyes when I saw the dried and shriveled leaves of the Laurel bush that stood farthest from the ivy. Arial, Sunny, Ferne, Bella and Pip all hovered in and around the branches and leaves of the wasted Laurel. Ferne pulled out her silver flute and played a melancholy tune while the others looked on with respect, honoring the departed green spirit of the shrub. When the last notes of Ferne’s tribute had faded away, I turned and dashed toward the house.

Pulling the back door open I called for my dogs. “Lucy, mama’s home! Lucy? Merry? Edie, where are you? Come to mama.” I was greeted by a cold, eerie silence and I felt a knot start to form in the pit of my stomach. Moving cautiously into the kitchen I called out for Bill. “Bill!” I took the stairs two at a time. “Bill….! Bill, This isn’t funny! Where are you?” All around me were signs of a hasty departure, dog blankets were strewn all over the floor, shoes had been kicked into corners, and Bill’s hoodie laid in a heap on a chair with its sleeves pulled inside out. I sat down hard on the top step and laid my head in my arms. What had happened here? Where is everyone?

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Bill stopped the car for the red light and checked in the rear view mirror to make sure the kennels holding the chihuahuas hadn’t slipped askew in his frantic departure. His eyes were met with three pairs of shocked, round puppy eyes. Wide eyes that asked the question…”What was that all about!” He started talking in a calm, but shaky voice. A calm he didn’t really feel. “It’s okay girls, daddy is just taking you for a little ride, we’ll go home in a while.” Edie, the smallest, gave him a sideways look, a look that we have come to know means that she is very skeptical. Very skeptical indeed.

The light turned green and he eased the car forward, still not sure where he should go from here. They were far enough from the house by now, far enough that he was pretty certain they were safe, so he turned into the entrance of our local park that sits across the street from a small shopping center. I’ll just stop here for awhile and catch my breath, he thought and swung into a parking space by an isolated pavilion.

Cool, quiet, darkness settled around them. The only light came from a solitary street lamp that stood across a wide expanse of well tended lawn. Bill rolled down the window and let the evening breeze blow the built up stress he felt out of the car and across the shallow stream that ran through the middle of the park. He had forgot about the two little gnomes that sat silently in the seat beside him.

Warren slipped out of the wide seat belt that he and Odette had hastily crawled under as the car sped down the street. He climbed up the back of the passenger seat and jumped onto Bills shoulder. Bill had laid his head back and was sitting with his eyes closed,  when Warren’s weight landed on him. He shot forward, almost hitting his head on the windshield. “Mr Bill…sir, would it be all right with you if the misses and I went for a wee stroll?” Bill sat, starring at him in stunned silence. This was going to take some getting used to, these tiny talking dolls. Without speaking a word he nodded, then watched as the diminutive couple grasp each others hands and leaped from the open window, hitting the ground in a graceful run. He watched them go, laughing and dancing through the deep green grass.He leaned the seat back and closed his eyes again, trying to calm his racing thoughts. This day’s revelations had taken all the energy right out of him.

He didn’t know how long he had been sitting there, eyes closed, head back, when the feeling that he was not alone swept over him. It felt like he was being watched. Just as he was opening his eyes he felt a hand lightly touch his arm. Jerking his head around, he opened his eyes wide to find Lilly, the white haired little lady from down the street, starring at him with shining blue eyes and a reassuring, friendly smile.

© Tami Ruesch, The Misty World of Arial Hollyberry, 2009-2010

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.