Emily's Story

Will write 4 food

Emily wandered along with a dreamy smile on her face, just listening to the forest sounds. Presently she stopped, because a sound that seemed strangely out of place had reached her ear. It was so quiet it was less a sound and more a feeling. But gradually it grew louder. It was the most beautiful music she had ever heard. It sounded like golden sunshine, like a trickling rill, like a drink of cool water after chewing mint. Of their own accord, her feet began to move towards the source of the sound.

Before Emily even realized she was moving, she saw a sight not many mortal humans see. In a glade, protected on all sides by dense forest, flitted about a dozen creatures in a graceful dance. Emily felt a shock run through her body as she realized these had to be the infamous fairies that were supposed to be corrupting her world. But these beautiful creatures could not be the evil beings that filled ghost stories at summer camp-outs. They were all quite a bit taller than herself, with teal skin, seeming not to bother with clothing. They were much plumper than the image of a fairy Emily held in her mind, and their wings were not iridescent dragon-fly wings but sturdy white membranes stretched across a bone frame, not unlike bat wings. Despite their stout appearance, the fairies possessed an ethereal grace, their very movements appeared to be music.

All this observation took place in a few moments, during which Emily had held herself perfectly still. But now she stepped forward into the clearing. As she did so, all the fairies stopped their dance and settled to the ground, standing in a semi-circle facing her. As their movement stopped, so too did the music. The glade was suddenly very quiet. Emily hardly dared to breathe. Driven by instinct, Emily half-bowed, half-curtseyed to the fairies. As though she had tapped a wind chime, a murmur of pleasure rippled through the fairies.

A fairy who had been placed near Emily’s right had stepped forward, and to Emily’s astonishment, began to speak in English.

“We’ve been waiting for you.”

***

Emily followed the fairies down into a hole in the turf. The passage was clearly an old and well-kept secret. They descended a smooth-worn stone staircase that opened onto a large, cool, hall. Here were gathered many more fairies, all busy tending the many plants that covered the walls. The fairy that had approached Emily waved her hand, and the others quickly dispersed, leaving the twelve and Emily alone in the hall. The one that appeared to be the leader began to speak.

“I am Gwyneth, queen of all that you see here. We have called you to ask for your help. We do not easily ask for the help of a mere human, so listen carefully, as I will not repeat what I say to you now. We are in danger. You humans seem to think that we are guilty of sabotage, of corrupting your young and undermining your governments. We cannot convince them otherwise, though we have tried. Every appearance sends your people deeper into suspicion. So we have decided that it must be a human to dispel the myths about our kind.”

Emily stood in absolute shock at this speech. “Okay, hold on, I don’t think you understand. See, I don’t have any power in my world. I’m just – well, ordinary.” Gwyneth didn’t seem fazed at all.

“Oh, no, dear, that’s not how we work! You see, we support your people, guide them, give them dreams and sustain them. We do not work through your ‘powerful’ people or government systems – not to help ourselves, not to help your race. No, our ways are much subtler than all that. We are music, we are hope, we are a wonderful smell, a beautiful dream. Most of all, we are story. We live in your myths, in your oral traditions, in your novels. But we are dying. Fading, if you will, because these stories are disappearing. No one believes them any more. Stories about us are evil, dark things, not of us at all.” Gwyneth fell silent, finished speaking. She looked to Emily to be deeply weary, down to her very bones. Now that she looked closer, Emily thought she could see hints of objects behind Gwyneth. The beautiful queen was beginning to fade, too. Emily wished she could help, but didn’t see what she could do. It wasn’t as if she could just tell a few stories and the fairies would be all better. Was it?

The air seemed to be getting thicker in the hall, and Emily realized that she could no longer see the dais at the far end. Then thick mist enveloped her, and Emily yawned widely, and fell asleep.

***

The sun streamed in Emily’s window onto her face, gradually waking her from sleep. At first she felt disoriented, the memory of the cool fairy hall still fresh in her mind. She wasn’t sure how she got to be in her room, but there was a vague connection with the mist in her mind. No matter. She was home now, and had had a delightful evening. Emily stretched and swung her legs over the side of her bed, and padded downstairs to eat breakfast.

***

“Granma, please tell us a story!” The other children joined in, “Yes, Granma! Tell us a fairy story!” Emily chuckled. Yes, ‘Granma’, she was to all these children, though only two were actually related to her. It was part of the process, the begging and refusal, and finally the capitulation. She would probably tell the story of when she met the fairies, so many years ago.

“Granma! A story!” the impatient voices cut in on her thoughts. Emily moved over to her rocking chair, the one with sheepskin on the back. “Well, I suppose I could tell just one story…” Immediately all the children quieted, their faces smiling up at her with angelic eagerness. Emily closed her eyes, and began to speak.

“There was a girl, who was wandering in the woods, a dreamy smile on her face, just listening to the forest sounds…”

-Teresa
and yes, Emily, her name is Emily. Somehow it just seemed right. But don't worry, none of the characters in this story are taken from real life. Not in the least (except any resemblance to myself or my wishes - after all, I wrote it!). I know I didn't totally stick to the plot outline you gave me, Emily, but I did my best and it certainly sparked a story I think is better than some.