“I hope I get to see a story,” Penny said wishfully.
“I’m sure you will,” SeeLee assured her.
“Can we go to the rooms above?” Penny asked, pointing to the stairs, reminding Clayton what was eating at him. He was now much smaller than his friends outside sitting on the branches, and it annoyed him. He was convinced that if he climbed those steps, he would get even smaller. Would he shrink so small that a bug could step on him and squash him like he had squashed so many before? Not wanting to climb up the stairs to find out, he was relieved to hear music calling outside.
“Hey,” he quickly interrupted whatever SeeLee was about to say, “let’s go see what the music is about.”
SeeLee went to the door, and Clayton pushed Penny in front of him. Not wanting to see the size change, he concentrated on the back of Penny’s head. The twig tangled in her hair reminded him that they would have to leave soon. Every night, their mother brushed Penny’s hair and always asked questions about Penny’s day. He couldn’t imagine his little sister being able to not talk about this beautiful adventure and her new best friend.
Emerging from the doorway that was only a little taller than he was, Clayton was greeted with a sight that made him forget about leaving.
The branch was even more crowded with fairies than before, some of whom were dancing in a line following dozens of musicians. There were flutes, cymbals, drums, and stringed instruments being played, creating lively, happy tunes as fairies sang with the music.
“We celebrate the end of each day,” SeeLee said. “As the music is played, the musically inclined fairies sing about things accomplished that day. They sing about funny incidents or helpers’ misadventures that made the fairies laugh. It’s like a traveling, current-events minstrel show. Every night we have a festival to celebrate the blessings of our beautiful summer days. We share everything we gather to eat and drink, and wander the branches, bartering for things in the booths as we greet our friends. It’s a party every night.”
“I think some humans adopt that custom,” Clayton mused.
“What kinds of things do you barter?” Penny wanted to know, avid shopper that she was fast becoming. Her face lit up at the prospect of discovering a new shopping mall.
“There are plenty of clothes, trinkets, jewelry, games, paintings, furniture, wood carvings, and toys to barter. Stained glass windows are very popular this year. We can walk around and visit some booths if you’d like,” SeeLee offered.
Again they obeyed SeeLee’s command to step up with her. This time they were less panicked, and Clayton wondered if he would fall if he let go of SeeLee’s hand. She didn’t seem to be holding him in position. Instead, it seemed he was standing on whatever she was standing on, and it was moving.
SeeLee levitated to a branch directly above. Clayton looked out over the expansive firefly field. Viewed from this height, it appeared even more beautifully alive.
There always seemed to be more fairies, and he wondered if they developed little subdivisions and lived in other trees close to the fairy tree. Or did they just become so small that thousands could easily live in the big trunk? The branch seemed much larger than the one below it, instead of being smaller as would usually be the case. He just assumed it was another size change he didn’t fully understand.
Booths lined both sides of the branch, but left plenty of room to accommodate the large numbers of strolling fairies. He could see Brian and Paul throwing knives on another branch. Their perch also seemed larger than the lower branches. That branch was filled with knife throwers and a throng of watchers. They seemed to love this sport, and loud cheers rang out when a spectacular throw was made.
He could also see the tiny archers, and now their targets were visible. They were swinging like pendulums from vine ropes. He wondered where Ron, Phil, and Karl were, and what size they had transformed into. For that matter, he wondered what size he was. Did the fairies even know what their own normal size was anymore? There seemed to be so much changing.
His musings were interrupted by the sound of approaching music. To his side, music fairies were leading fairy dancers in a winding line spiraling through the air. Their wings were spread, all pulsating color and pattern to the beat of the music.
Penny tugged his arm and tried to lead him to a booth offering baubles, bangles, and beads of every description. They weaved and waved though the throngs of fairies watching the evening’s minstrel show, as she doggedly searched her targeted booth. SeeLee let them chose an item from every booth as gifts from the fairies.
Penny seemed determined to choose an item from every single booth. Delicately carved jewelry fashioned of crystal, gold, and wood filled the woven grass bag hanging from a strap over her shoulder. Her bag also held an intricately beaded and feathered shirt and a finely carved wooden box. SeeLee gave Clayton his choice of gift items and a shoulder bag to carry, too. After visiting a few more booths, they were joined by an excited Brian and Paul.
“The fairies taught us how to throw knives. MarLan is really good. You should see her throw,” Paul said, drawing a knife from a sash. Three other knives remained in the sash, looking more like decorations than throwing knives.
“We got really good at throwing at stationary targets,” Brian added, also drawing a knife from a similar sash.
“Stationary?” Clayton inquired.
“Yeah. The fairies are so good at throwing that they use swinging targets, which sway like a pendulum, but spin like a top at the same time. Paul and I started with bigger stationary targets, and that’s what we got good at,” Brian explained as he showed them the polished wooden knife. The grain boasted swirls of varied colors on the handle and blade, with a blackened point and sharp edge glistening in the light.
“The fairies fire-harden the point and edge,” Brian continued.
As Brian rambled on, Clayton wondered if NarVan had made his wooden folding knife yet.
As Brian and Paul put their knives away, the boys noticed MarLan and SeeLee talking excitedly off to the side. As the boys turned toward them, Penny, who had been listening to the fairies’ chattering, explained what was going on.
“MarLan says an Old One came out of the tree. He’s walking around on branches with fairies crowding around him. I guess he’s heading here because he wants to talk to us. It’s some kind of big deal or something,” Penny concluded and turned her attention back to the fairies’ discussion.
“Maybe we should give him our warnings,” Clayton said to his two friends, as apprehension crept back, ushered by the guilt he felt exposing the fairies. He wished the others were here so they could all face this together. LeeLan and AnDrin gently guided them through the air, and after landing safely on the branch, the fairies joined SeeLee and MarLan.
Ron, Phil, and Karl each held a long, wooden box. It was so polished it almost looked wet. Clayton could only guess how many things the boxes might morph into or what was hidden in them.
After a short pause, they all started talking at once about the woodworkers’ shop they had seen. Fairies crafted all kinds of wooden pieces. They were so good at making things with many functions that there was a continuous contest to see how many other things a finished piece could turn into. The three boys talked on and on about the marvels of fairy ingenuity until they noticed the animated conversations the fairies were having.
“What’s all the excitement about?” Ron asked as he watched the fairies fluttering.
“It seems we’re the cause of an Old One coming out of the tree,” Clayton replied. “They hardly ever come out, having some lofty purpose to accomplish inside the tree. All the fairies love them and hold them in awe, so I guess it’s a big deal to be visited by one. And now, maybe our warnings will be taken seriously.” As he finished his thought, the fairies stopped talking and searched the air above and beyond the boys.
Finally, Clayton turned and saw hundreds of fairies descending upon them, colors swirling and whirling as they came.
The Old One
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nbsp; The air was saturated with fairies. Dozens of pearlescent fairies spiraled slowly downward as other fairies pulsated around them. Sparkles fell like a golden snowstorm, swirling around in rainbow seas of shining fairy wings. Adding to the spectacle, music fairies and their line of dancers whirled upward around the descending group, creating the impression of a snow globe gone mad. Even the young fairies abandoned their games and dashed like dervishes to join the rest. Fireflies and moths celebrated as they added to the swirling symphony of sprites.
Glimpses of bright white occasionally peeked from the center of the descending fairies, which eerily contrasted to the colors whirling around it. The piercing intensity of the light reminded Clayton of a lighthouse beacon.
This surely must be the Old One, Clayton thought. He expected some fanfare as the Old One made his presence known, but he never imagined so much drama. He looked down at his dirty jeans and shirt with growing embarrassment. His friends were all dressed similarly, and he had the urge to run home and change into better clothes for whatever was about to happen.
Two fairies separated from the group, and cascading rainbow sparkles identified one of them as SeeLee’s mother. SanArEnDar escorted her through the shimmering veil of dancing fairies. SeeLee’s parents soon joined them on the branch, and warm greetings were exchanged. Clayton felt immediate relief when MarJoReAn joined them as Penny rushed to hug her.
“Which Old One is it, Mother?” SeeLee asked, her voice filled with excitement. Her friends crowded around the trio eagerly awaiting the answer.
“Your grandfather finally came out from the depths of the tree, and I’ve been trying to get him to see the light of day for over three hundred years,” MarJoReAn replied with a slight tinge of annoyance in her voice. “I don’t know what the Old Ones could possibly discuss down there that couldn’t be concluded in hundreds of years.”
“If they’re still talking about it when you become an Old One, I’m sure you’ll find a way to finish it up for them,” SanArEnDar remarked condescendingly.
SeeLee, however, giggled gleefully at the news. “I remember the last two times Grandfather came out, Father,” SeeLee told him. Turning to Penny, she added, “We had the most wonderful fun. It seemed like a year-long festival each time he visited.”
“I’m surprised you remember two times. You were very young two times ago,” her father remarked.
“I was right there with him, trying to keep my place in the air while Grandfather kept moving,” SeeLee said, pointing at the descending fairies. “He showed me the most wonderful stories on his wings.”
“Ah yes,” her mother joined in. “Who could forget such wonderful stories? You were so scared you didn’t come out from under your bed covers for days.”
“Oh, Mother,” SeeLee started but was interrupted by Clayton.
“How old are you?” he asked SeeLee, looking at her in wide-eyed wonder.
“In five years, ten months, and two days, I’ll celebrate my twelve hundredth year.”
“Even though adulthood is still over six hundred years away, SeeLee considers herself to be mature for her age and ready for adult responsibilities,” MarJoReAn said.
Penny gasped. She’d never heard of anything living that long.
Clayton stood speechless as he tried to equate the very young looking fairy standing in front of him with a twelve-hundred-year span of time. It didn’t fit well, even with all the time and size warp stuff going on. He would’ve bet anything that she was the same age as him.
“Are you sure you don’t mean months instead of years?” Karl asked. “What kind of years are you talking about? The kind where the Earth goes completely around the sun?”
“Yes, that kind,” SeeLee assured him. My mother is three thousand two hundred and twenty-eight, and my father is three thousand eight hundred and twenty-six. And Grandfather is over six thousand years old. He won’t tell us exactly how old he is, but even the oldest can’t remember a time when he wasn’t around.”
Clayton thought MarJoReAn looked like she was about thirty years old, and her father might be thirty-five at the most. The numbers reeled inside his head, becoming useless and meaningless. He could barely comprehend living even a few hundred years. Then he realized that he was about to meet someone born before recorded history.
“How old is the tree?” Clayton asked suspiciously. “They usually only live for a few hundred years, maybe a little more.”
“The Old Ones preserve the tree somehow, so it ages very, very slowly,” SeeLee answered. “It looked just like this when we arrived over a thousand years ago.”
In a daze, Clayton looked back up at the descending fairies. He could see the old fairy more clearly now. Most fairies surrounding the Old One had disappeared, leaving the very young ones happily bobbing up and down as they watched the story unfold in his wings. The young fairies had difficulty managing the aerial dance, and they fluttered quickly to tread the air. The oldest of the young fairies appeared to be no more than five years old, but Clayton now knew candles on their birthday cakes probably numbered in the hundreds.
Only the back of the old storyteller could be seen from where Clayton stood. His wings were spread and radiating an iridescent pearly luster, creating a kaleidoscope of vanilla shadings as the old fairy turned. The silver and white sparkles falling from the Old One’s wings glimmered like diamonds as they fell toward the ground.
As he turned, his face became visible, and Clayton could finally see the technicolor screen the Old One’s wings offered. It was no wonder the little fairies struggled to tread for position! Although they were growing very tired, the toddlers were transfixed by the frightening, dark staircase leading to a shadowed, haunted mansion the Old One was projecting on his double-winged silver screen.
Suddenly, the old fairy bellowed in a booming voice, “Then the horrible creatures jumped out at them and bit their arms off!” He arched his body into his wide-eyed audience as he bellowed the words. Bringing his story to a crescendo, each wing displayed the terrifyingly ugly head of a woodland monster.
The horror of it all scattered the young ones in all directions, as they disappeared with amazing speed. The old fairy chuckled until he caught the disapproving glare and raised brow MarJoReAn was sending his way.
The Old One’s face reconfigured to a more dignified pose keeping with the rest of his regal appearance. He had long white hair with golden streaks flowing through it. In human years, he appeared to be around eighty years old, as his thin, angular face hollowed in part, making his cheekbones jut out sharply. His brow protruded, iced with heavy snow-puffed eyebrows standing guard over blue-grey eyes that looked much too young for his wrinkled face.
A short white beard capped by a well-shaped long and definitive mustache covered the lower part of his striking face. The monster-faced images were long gone from his wings, leaving a pearly white sheen reflected in the gold-embroidered white silk robe draping his torso. He was tall, thin, and appeared quite limber as he landed on the branch and offered his arms to MarJoReAn for a hug, which she didn’t seem too eager to give. Meaningful, but uncomfortable glances between the father and daughter passed before either of them spoke.
“Are you still upset with me over that story I told you three thousand years ago?” he asked, his arms still extended.
“That one, and the ugly one you told my daughter two thousand years later,” MarJoReAn replied while stepping in front of SeeLee to block his view of his granddaughter. The protective gesture was futile, as SeeLee slipped past her mother and into the waiting arms of her grandfather SanDroMonEnLor.
After a brief but energetic hug, SeeLee introduced the humans to her grandfather, who, after giving a warm greeting to each, promptly fell asleep. His eyes lost their fiery brilliance and became dull and unfocused, finally closing when the old fairy could no longer hold them open. So, the first Old One they encountered stood before them on the branch, sleeping.
This was supposed to be the one who could solve their problems? The gro
up of adventurers looked at each other in disbelief, having expected so much more. Clayton was disappointed—the old fairy seemed foolish and feeble. Clayton worried no one would be doing much of anything about the dire situations that loomed so threateningly.
Maybe SeeLee’s mother would just make everything all right. Clayton decided talking to MarJoReAn might be the best solution, even though it seemed improbable. These were real problems from the real world outside, not something controllable from inside their cozy realm of fantasy. Despite his own size change, he seriously doubted the fairies could wish a bulldozer to grow a lot smaller. He decided to continue warning the little creatures any way he could until he finally convinced them the threats to their very existence were serious and something requiring immediate action.
Clayton stared at the ancient fairy and wondered if all the Old Ones became feebleminded. Six thousand years of living would be enough to make any mind grow tired. Just the burden of all the memories loaded into their consciousness would be enough to wear anyone down. Memories filled with trauma, boredom, happiness, and sadness were apparently fueled by a lot of sleep. He studied the long, thin nose protruding between chiseled cheekbones. Then he searched the short, white beard, the long, flowing moustache, and the shelf-like forehead with bushy brows that shadowed his slumbering eyes. Very unexpectedly, those blue-grey orbs flashed open and looked straight into his.
There was nothing feeble in those eyes. They burned with cunning intelligence. They radiated all-knowingness, asking questions to determine how answers would form, yet already knowing what the answers would be. Eyes containing so much awareness and acuity made Clayton feel exposed, as if his own deep memories were being examined. New hope for the fairies’ future was rekindled when the Old One’s eyes spoke, and he worried that the old fairy knew he had considered him feebleminded. He began to sweat in fear—his face flushed red—but the old fairy simply stated, “You worry too much.”
Beyond the Firefly Field Page 14