In the forest’s dark shroud stood a wee, tiny house not home to a human, squirrel, or mouse where the fairies came to dance and to play they come out at twilight and at break of day
By the old oak whose bark is all twisted and curled in the dark of the glade lies the fairies’ small world by the light of the moon I glimpsed me a sight of a world half in shadow and half way in light
The night has come of ghostly wails when thin and thinner grows the veil deathly silence the loudest sound drifting far above the ground unfriendly spirits now abound whatever you do … don’t turn around
The old stone archway had stood for more years than Brandi and her company could imagine. Whatever was inside was veiled by some power. Whether that power be light or dark, no one knew. Astride flicked a small light ember toward the opening. It was immediately engulfed in darkness. Ahhh, dark magic then. Brandi gathered her will and her power, a glowing sphere if light in her hands that she hearled at the archway “tombershio” she whispered as she cast her light. What happened next was truly remarkable as a woodland spirit began to emerge from a nearby oak.
Deep in the forest covered in green there rested a box barely seen it perched atop a narrow ravine looking down, calm and serene watching, waiting in it’s quarantine carpeted with vines all velveteen Into that forest so crisp and clean there came a fairy, fluttering her wings sparkled iridescent sheen “Hello” said the box “I’ve been waiting”
The chains that bound her were heavy, even heavier than the anchor at the end. They intended to toss her off the quay and see if she would use magic to save herself. Because she had done what the village healers could not. What was she supposed to do let the plague wipe them out? Now they judged her a witch. Stupid humans! Fae gathered her magic, pulling the heat from the earth, the stones, the very air around her skin glowing intensely until she burst into flame and dissolved into ash.
The astonished guards stared at the ashes before hearing a voice that crackled with fire as she rose from the ash, resplendent in her flaming wings.
“You dare judge me a witch, I am Phoenix Fae, Fire Fairy. Now, RUN!”
Beneath the promises so broken, the platitudes and lies unspoken tear at the once caring heart love was lost right from the start rough and broken stone and brick bleeding wounds that stay soul-sick
But somewhere deep down below there lies an ancient light and glow that tiny incandescent spark, warms the soul and mends the heart in the darkest corner of winter chill love’s light shines all the brighter still
Winter Light — Linda Ronstadt (from the movie Secret Garden)