Today, we continue down the frightening path first traveled by our intrepid Creature Feature Writer of the Stoughton Press.
Doing my due diligence for
our readers, this reporter attempted to trace the relationship between fairies
and the autumnal equinox, but nothing seemed to fit. Fairies are simply not
regarded as creatures of the autumn. Some claimed they migrated south for the
winter, but others were certain they hibernated nearby. I knew better. They
were out there, waiting for me. Looking back, I now realize they were never
far. With frayed nerves, I donned comfortable boots and a leather coat in an
absurd attempt to keep malicious spells at bay.
I endeavored to retrace the
tangled path laid down by Leaf all those weeks ago, but I quickly lost my way,
and I suspected I wasn’t alone. A mushroom winked on to my right. Then another
a few yards up the path. I did my best to ignore the fairies rising like
fireflies from the forest floor, but it wasn’t easy. Afraid to look back, I
sensed mischief as the fairies continued to swarm, pushing me forward, silent
but for the buzz of their wings.
Leaf stepped from behind a maple, its leaves
ignited by the multi-hued swarm behind me. “There are many sides to a legend,
human,” she said. “Blaze insists you know hers.” A tiny sun lifted from an
oddly pungent wild rose. Behind the white fairy, the portal tree pierced the quarter
moon, a tree so massive it would have taken a dozen men to encircle its base.
I moved closer as the swarm
settled in the shrubbery, their tiny wings humming with distrust. “The trolls
are children, fools living in ignorance and denial, and the dragons are little
more than animals.” Blaze lifted her chin, and I noticed Leaf stiffen.
“Careful,
Blaze. You had need of the dragons once, and you may again.” The fairy snorted,
but Leaf continued. “You didn’t sniff at the dragons when you needed their help.”
Blaze crossed her arms and looked away.
I heard a snap followed by
crashing through the canopy of the towering tree, and I stepped back, raising
my arm against whatever had grown tired of the pompous fairy as an object
slammed into the ground at my feet.
Leaf approached it and looked up. “The tree
has chosen you. I knew it would, although I must admit, I hesitate to believe
it.”
I tapped the glistening plum with my boot. “Chosen—for what?” Blaze
flared, shining her light on the base of the tree. It didn’t
look like any plum tree I had ever seen, but it all made sense now. Slowly, my
eyes adjusted to the fairy’s intense flare and a shape began to appear in
the deep moss shrouding the bark. Indistinct at first, an iron ring, like that
on a medieval castle protruded from an orange door that glowed like a sunset
even as Blaze dimmed her internal fire.
“The tree chose you for this journey.”
Leaf smiled up at me as the door began to open. Under the golden light
streaming through her auburn hair, Leaf looked every bit a fairy, but she bore
no wings.
The reporter in me clawed to the surface, smothering my instincts to
run. “Is it dangerous?”
Leaf beckoned me to my knees before the squat door. “All
journeys worth taking are dangerous, human.”
The harsh squawk of bickering
gulls echoed down the portal as I crawled forward to peer down the passage.
Suddenly, a scream—part
panther, part something—other, curled my toes. “Dragons?” I prayed I was wrong,
but Leaf brushed a bead of perspiration from my cheek.
“Oh, yes. One very
special dragon.”
Fear seeped in at the edges of my adventurous spirit. “I—I
have a deadline. People are waiting for this story.”
Blaze buzzed closer as the
moon dove under a blanket of clouds. “The signs are fading, human. We must
hurry.”
I looked over my shoulder at the black night, and made up my mind.
Pulling a pad from my pocket, I scribbled this report. I now leave it the
clutches of the swarm, but I have no way of knowing if it will be delivered. If
I don’t return, know that I chose to go, but if I do, imagine the story I’ll come
back with for I am Rebecca Porter, Creature Feature Writer.
Originally published in the Stoughton Press Autumn 2015