Laughter filled the glade. A beautiful day had dawned, the sound of birds singing from the trees mixed with the light murmers and gay giggles of the tiny folk who had gathered to play and flit the day away. Tiny figures dressed in bright colours matching the flowers of the wood danced about on the dew dappled grass. The day was like any other, bright, warm and full of promise. The tiny folk came each day, as was thier habit, to play and flit about, laughing and singing. All that is except for one.
She sat, alone, by a small bush. A soft smile played on her face as she watched the others camper about, tagging each other with petals from the flowers in one of thier favorite games. Her dress was softer in colour to those around her. Pale blue with shimmers of a soft pink, when seen as she moved. Her hair was pulled back to show her delicate features. Small hands were clean and rested apon her lap as she listened to the others as they laughed. She was not an outcast, Nay, in truth she was the princess of the small folk. She was a restless spirit, unlike the folk she was one day to rule, she could not understand nor accept the way they would flit and frolic the days away. No purpose, to her was like most things her folk did, boring and useless in her eyes.
Since she was a small lass, as large as a bee, she had tried to be as the others. Her parents worried over her. She did enjoy the games of her folk but, she always felt there was more to life than laughter. She had a yerning to be more than one who danced the days away. And, like all the days since she was a childe, she sat and watched as her folk campered about, and dreamed of being something greater. Many times she had tried to talk to the others, about protection, about the world, about being more than what they were all now. So many races to occupy the world, so many folk who thought differently but, her folk , her kind, did not understand her yearning for knowledge. At times, when a pixie had been caught by a mortal she would press her point about the need for signals, the need for better control and the need for her folk to gather to bring back the missing soul that had been caught. And each time, she was told, it was the way of things, to accept her lot in life, to enjoy the nectar of being a spirit of dance and laughter. Those who were spirited away were soon forgotten by her folk. Accepted as gone forever, and no more was e'er said.
Not to say she was a sad and depressed spirit, nor one who looked at all things with a dark shadow. Nay, she could sing so beautifully, and her dance always was so smooth and light. Her laughter came easily enough, as did her touch. But she was the only pixie who thought on the morrow. Who knew there was more to life than the small glade her folk danced in. Once, a few years back, she had journied with her tiny wings. Her wings...Ahhh that was another thing different about her. I forgot to mention, of all her folk, she was the only one, who had wings that looked like stained glass, soft greens with pinks and yellows in place of the grey and white of her folk. She was indeed a very unique and special pixie. As I was saying, one day she set out, and had witnessed a battle. Far from her home glade she was. She watched in facination as mortals on horseback as well as foot, clashed and died before her eyes. She had seen animals die, the circle of life made that the way of the wood, one to hunt, the other to be hunted. That was the way of things but, this....this was to her death without purpose...
She watched as a man was struck down. He had caught her attention by his actions thoughout the battle. Pushing others to safty, light flashing from his hands, to stun but not kill those he battled with. Long robes marked him as a man of magic. But to her, he was only a man who was in pain now. Biting her lip, and gathering all her courage that her tiny body could muster, she made her way to the fallen form apon the ground. By this time the battle had carried down the hill, and all about her was death. Flitting from form to form, she made her way to the man she had seen struck down by an arrow. Carefully making her way to him, she saw his breath was shallow, rasping, and he smelled of the carnage about him. She became facinated, and climbed his chest....looking at his face, she saw compassion and a gentle nature there. It was then, he opened his eyes......and smiled....
Frozen she stood, not daring to move, her tiny wings...quivered with the tension held in her. She looked back...and said nothing.
Between clenched teeth, he greeted her. Although in pain, he seemed very alert, and pleased by what he saw before his eyes. He had ne'er seen a pixie, and he almost laughed aloud at the thought of getting to see one on the day of his death. Blackness enfolded him, as the last sight he caught was the pixie turning her attention to the shaft of the arrow that protruded from his shoulder.
The little princess was shocked by the greetings she had been given. She had been told that mortal man was souless, and had no room within thier black hearts except for greed and gold. This man, had laughter in his eyes, just like her folk, a gentle manner in his speech, like her folk....and she had decided, since she was a pixie of action, that she would aid this mortal, and learn more. She turned her attention to the shaft as she heard his shallow breath escape him from blacking out. Steeped she was in the medicines of her wood. Knowing which plant to heal, and calm...she set out....looking for such leaves and root.
Her first stop was to the otters. Deft of hand and paw, they could help her. Preecheee basked in the late afternoon sun. After a few words he did agree to help. It would be an adventure to him, and everyone knows how much otters love something new. Climbing apon Preecheee's back, they set out. Soon herbs and leaf in hand....they again approached the hill where the mortal lay. And set to work. Preecheee soon had the shaft chewed clean...and with his deft little paws, had pulled the arrow clean through the back of the shoulder. The little pixie packed the wound with comphrey, willow bark, fox fire, altheas and clover. Mixing some ash with mud...she placed this at the openings then with the aid of Preecheee she bound moss to the wound. Dragging broken pine bows to the fallen man, he was soon covered and his breath seemed to come easier. Preecheee soon tired of this new game and left the little pixie to watch over the man. Sitting on his chest, she settled down to wait.
Many days had passed since that first meeting, the man slowly became stronger. The little pixie would bring him berries and mushrooms, roots and fruit to eat. She asked him endless querries on man, the way they lived, war, family and death. He always answered her querries with one of his own. And soon a true bonding of friendship had been woven betwixt the two. It came one day, when he was able to walk well and was healed that he annouced to her gently it was time for him to leave. He explained that he was a lord of a castle, and it was time for him to return and see to his duties. He told her where the castle lay, how to find it and enter. With a promise that she would perhaps visit his home, she watched as he soon was enveloped by the trees. Then, turning she returned to her folk in the glade.
It was this day,a few years later, as she sat watching her folk camper about that her face smiled as she thought again of the mortal she had met, and healed. Her folk had not really missed her at all, so caught up in the games they played. Her mind was constantly thinking on the castle, a home made of stone, and the man who came from there. She had decided that this would be the day she would journey there. Slipping through the bushes, the laughter of her folk soon faded, and with her wings outstreched, she flitted from tree to tree, rock to rock....to make the journey....to the castle.
Two cycles of the sun had come and gone as she now hid at the top of the large iron gate that marked the entrance to the stone castle. She watched in facination as folk of all different Realms came and went beneath her. Shadows and ghosts, farie and Vamp, Warrior and bard....so many folk from different places gathering within one place. Her heart beat in excitment as to what might lay inside the portal. She could hear laughter echoing from inside, unlike her folk, this laughter was deeper and more robust than what she was used to. Mixed with jesting and many greetings to any who entered the gate. With no hesitation, now that she was rested, she flew through the gate......and her eyes and ears soaked in all she saw...
A large courtyard greeted her first. Some folk standing, some sitting, sipping ale and wine and smiling, enjoying each other's company. All faces turned up to her as she entered and greeted her openly. None commented on what she was, or how tiny for that matter. They accepted her as thier equall. It was then, she saw the one she had met on the hill. Standing off to the side, watching the folk in the courtyard. He was speaking to another dressed like himself. And as his eyes caught sight of her a smile broke his face and he greeted her warmly. As she returned greetings to those she passed she made her way to the Lord of the Mannor. His name was Sage....
continue
