I was walking in the magical forest when suddenly I came upon Lady Laurel's tree manor.
The grand sight of the structure overtook me: The branches had woven in what seemed like an unnatural way to from a huge house, dotted with thousands of windows, some as small as to only allow hummingbirds to fly into and some large enough for oxen to trample through.
Several thick branches moved from one port of a section of the great wooden castle to another, with small humanoid, frog-like, and bird-like creatures riding on them. Some carried sacks of produce, others held primitive spears. The children through their toys in the air and caught them, bored from the branches awfully slow pace.
All of these openings bore a golden light as if they were a blacksmith's forge, yet there were no signs of an angry inferno within. All around the verdure of leaves shaped like the paws of wolves flew magnificent lights. I did not know what they were: they seemed only like fireflies that didn't mind the harshness of the daylight.
One of them broke from its brethren and sailed towards me in lazy circles that left a platinum trail of light behind it. A few inches from my face, it began to speak some strange tongue. I could not understand, for it sounded like two voices opposing each other, each sounding like a high-pitched ramble.
It seemed to notice my confusion, paused, and spoke in the common tongue. It did not simply speak, but rather sang its words.
"You come from afar," the fairy said in a voice as sweet and smooth as honey, "I sense your fear, sadness, but also the strength of your love overpowering them."
"Yes," I said.
I looked down myself: my tunic's travel stains had stains, and my right sleeve was ready to fall off, hanging only by five strong threads. The sweat and dust had mingled in my hair and when I ran my fingers through it, my hands were covered in mud!
"I come from the western coast," I said to the kind spirit, "through rides on wagons with strangers and ferries to cross rivers, but mostly on my own two feet have I made this journey across the country. Please, I come to see Lady Laurel."
The spirit thought for a moment, glowing brightly as it judged me.
"Very well then," it said, "come with me."
The relief I felt relaxed me too much, I believe, for when I made a step forward to follow the gentle creature, I collapsed to my knees. It was as if though the strength and courage I had to make myself believe I had left me once I knew my journey was over.
Come now, I thought to myself, just a little more, you have made it this far. Lena needs you, remember?
My sister, back in Arlindstan, needed a cure for her affliction. She was stung by a Devil Eater, a venomous little monster. Though most who are stung by this bug die within hours, Lena had survived by a miracle, but only to sleep and not wake.
The doctors in the city were fascinated by her fortitude, yet they could do nothing to rouse her from her unending slumber. They did have some ideas and experiments and several draughts that may restore her, yet they were created with dangerous herbs just as deadly as the Devil Eater's venom. My parents disagreed with such treatment and so did I. The doctors did not blame us, though they did seem disappointed that they were unable to test their potions.
A friend of a friend had spoken to me, telling me of a woodswitch that lived in a grotto not far from home. I visited her, hoping her bizarre arts would be of some use to Lena. It was this Alamandria, this woodswitch, that I came to know about Lady Laurel, the godmother of all woodswitches. She, herself, sadly could not help me, for she was old and weakening, and possessed an intense pain in her head that slowly destroyed her wits. She said the Silencers had poisoned her, whoever they were.
But the great Lady Laurel, mistress of all magic, defeated such natural ailments that plagued normal humans. Some say she has befriended Zelriel, the Taker of Life, thus allowing her to live throughout the centuries without aging.
Alamandria had given me all she had to find Lady Laurel, including a mysterious sheet of parchment with a living ink stain on it that would shape itself into an arrow to point me in the right direction.
As my arms gave out from under me and I kissed the lush weeds of the forest, I heard the fairy's voice call out in an enchanting vibrato. Before my eyes shut and speeded me off to much-needed rest, I felt the wind carry me off the ground and cerulean lights gather all around me.
I awoke in a giant leaf supported between two wooden posts that grew from the woven floor.
Five fairies flew down from a shelf above me, and they whispered to each other in their language. They flew out of the room at once, and when they returned, they carried a platter. On it, sat a bowl of thick green soup.
"You have not eaten much since you left home, have you?" one fairy, the color of garnets, asked me.
"This will help restore you," another said, this one shining like an emerald.
I was hesitant at first, for it smelled quite odd to me. A strong smell of earth and cut weeds made me think it would taste like such.
"Do you need me to assist you?" offered the garnet.
It flew above to lift the spoon, but I told it that I was well enough to feed myself. It giggled as a response.
I took a spoonful into my mouth. It was the most delicious thing I have ever tasted! Though I am no noble, prince, or king, but a common villager, I am certain no natural human, like myself, has ever tasted something so great.
It was so good, I forsook my manners, picked up the bowl, and upended it into my mouth. I placed the bowl back on the platter and apologized for my rudeness. They did not understand what I meant by it but laughed along anyway.
Full of strength and spirit, I got out of the leaf and wore the clothes that my caretaker had left out for me. They were an interesting garb: they were made from layers of leaves bigger than a giant's hand and sewn with vines of which life clung onto it by the show if its healthy, happy leaves. Just by seeing it, I too thought it would feel awkward and irritating on the skin if I were to wear it. Yet, like the soup, I was surprised by the comfort it gave me.
I stepped out of the room and saw that the halls were empty, and the sky outside was dark. I went up and down stairways in search of the sweet soul that took me in to take care of me and to ask if Lady Laurel allowed anyone to see her.
If the fairies had not been so quick to leave to return the bowl and spoon, I may have asked them where the owner of this house was.
Though the more I searched, the more it became obvious to me that this place I rested in was large and luxurious. I came upon these large double-doors covered with vines and flowers of every color.
"Do you wish to see Lady Laurel, human?" a voice came.
"Yes, if she able and willing," I said to the air, for I did not know what or who spoke.
"Very well," the voice said, this time I realized it was the doors that spoke, "proceed."
The doors did not swing open, but instead, they unwove themselves and receded into the walls, a cloud of little insects flying from the flowers and out from under the leaves as it hid.
The throne room was a wide space with ethereal lights floating above our heads. In front of me, on the floor, sat Lady Laurel: A young and beautiful woman that wore the same garb as I did. The hat she wore was like that of a mushroom cap, brimmed and with a floppy point. Across her lap, sat a wooden stave. At the top of it, the wood curled around a crystal ball, where a fiery cat's eye floated in the center, regarding me with suspicion. The wings, silver and glorious, on the staff, fluttered over the eye in intervals, as if to act as its eyelids.
"Approach, sweetling," Lady Laurel said to me. "I hope you are well."
"Yes," I said, "I am very grateful."
For the lady of such a grand estate, her throne room, though it lacked a throne and any furnishing for that matter, she dressed as a commoner and sat on the same level as me. I wasn't too sharp on my courtesies, so I kneeled to her as I would a queen.
"Oh," Lady Laurel said giggling and blushing, "you need not do such silly things for me."
"Sorry," I said, "I thought this was how you address a ... " what do I call her, exactly?
" ... a queen? a lady of a great house?" she asked joyfully as if this were a guessing game. "Worry not about formalities, we do not need them here. We are equals here. This is why I despise the cities and castles. They are so prickly on such little things!"
I explained to her why I came to her home; how no one could help me but her and her mastery of the arts.
"Ah," she said, "I see. Courage has brought you far. Love even farther. For this, we will assist you."
She raised her staff and, with the flutter of the wings and the gleam of the cat's eye, a fairy flew down below. It was the same one that met him outside the manor.
"Mote," she said to it, "accompany our friend back home."
The fairy called Mote looked shocked at this notion.
"But mistress!" complained Mote, "The Silencers are more active! The sightings of the Black Moon has riled them. You know how dangerous humans are when they are afraid, even more so when they do not understand!"
"You will not be unequipped Mote," she said to the little light, "I will grant you my protection. It is not by chance that I choose you. You are the oldest and bravest. But I will not force you. Will you do this task for me?"
Mote seemed to enjoy the praise.
"Of course I will," he called out loud enough so I could hear, "I'm not afraid! I am the bravest and oldest!"
Mote flew closer to me and landed on my shoulder.
"Let us go, young warrior!" shouted Mote joyfully, though I could see in his eyes he was actually quite afraid.
"Now?" I asked, taken aback, "It is already night, how can we ... "
"Natural humans have such strange limitations," pouted Mote, "You are well-rested?"
"Well," I answered, "yes."
"And you have eaten my soup?"
"Yes, I did"
"And how do you feel?"
"Honestly, Mote, I feel like I can run back home before the sun breaks." Mote's fiery spirit was bleeding into me.
"Then it is settled," said Lady Laurel, clasping her soft hands together.
She gave me a few things for my journey back home: A carved twig she called a wand, pages of bone-white leaves with words, of a language foreign to me, written on them, and an iron dagger decked with purple gems. I assume the dagger was to keep my safe from the Silencers, of whom were a clan of warriors that intended to wipe everything magical from this realm.
The whole castle seemed to see us off, all the little creatures living within waved goodbye at me and Mote. Mote's brothers and sisters were sorrowful but tried to show happiness for Mote's sake.
"They will miss you," I said to him, "let us see how fast we can get back. The sooner I return, the sooner you can as well, right?"
Mote had no answer.
"Something wrong, Mote?" I asked.
"Oh," he said quickly, "I ... yes, let's get you back home, a soon as we can!"
"So ..." I started, "Which one of these leaves has the magic words to heal Lena?"
"You know what they are?" asked Mote.
"I've seen Alamandria keep parchments," I said "I feel like they are of the same language. Am I right?"
"Yes," admitted Mote, "but it is not those that will heal your sister. They are used for our protection. I'll teach you a thing or two on how to use them."
"I see," I said, "but how will we treat my sister?" I looked frighteningly at the dagger. "Is this ... "
"No," Mote said with a sad laugh, "well ... it is I who will awaken your sister."
"Oh, what an amazing fairy you are!" I exclaimed, "May I ask, how you will do such a thing?" Mote's power aroused my curiosity in magic.
Mote did not match my enthusiasm. In fact, he looked miserable, but when he caught my glance, he forced a smile.
"I will use all the power I've got!" he said, "don't let my size fool you, young one!"
After saying this he glowed brighter. It was hard to see with the moon absent from the sky. We walked through the dark, magical forest, wondering what fate had in store for us.
ns 15.158.61.48da2
