She screamed and
threw down the crystalline goblet, leaving it in shards on the stone floor. So
many glassy eyes turned towards her, immediately, all at once. A blush broke
out of the porcelain, almost reflective, surface of her face. The surface was
so crucial. This is what she told herself as she gathered the folds of her
creamy silk dress and ran. Her scream pursued her.
Out
of that hall, out of everything, outside the gates. And the maiden laughed, in
long, maddening tones, lengthy rust-colored hair thrust backward. Soon, she
felt a first tiny raindrop make contact with skin. And it burned, deep as any
fire. The liquid flames came down harder and harder, brushing, lapping,
consuming. She was covered, and all was tears. Tears that burned when they fell
cascaded down her cheeks, down her gasping white chest.
Still
she flew through featureless fields, barely seeing anything for the water that
overpowered her. And her senses were numb as her left foot felt the forest
floor. Now, to run through trees is a much more difficult undertaking.
Stumbling and tripping, yes, that is possible. And so it was that she fumbled
her way through the night that grew farther and longer in every which way, not
that she was really looking.
Trees
were ancient, and powerful, established. So when the time came that she could
no longer breathe her way along this path of her own creation, she stopped at
one of many, many trees. She knew they were watching her, but it did not
matter, as the expression of angry eyes could not be found on them. Curled up,
back against a stable, knotted trunk, wet, but somehow not alone, she closed
her eyes.
As
she did this, all life floated out of sight and was replaced by another one.
She found herself in a muted meadow, standing, looking upwards. It was most
definitely nighttime, but not so much dark. Peculiar little lights flitted
here, there, looping around the otherwise empty patch of cobalt sky.
One
particular light came right up to her face, and the fairy grinned. Its mottled
purplish wings seemed to work thrice as hard to allow it to remain in one
place. She smiled in return, shyly. “What am I doing here?”
“You
found yourself here, lady.” That ever expanding grin again. “You are here to
find yourself.”
“Oh.
I’m not so sure I know what I’m doing…”
“Look
down.” The winged creature insisted.
She
was holding a perfect crystal goblet, filled to the brim with something candy
red, a liquid. “You want me to drink?” Her eyes brimmed with tears as the drink
and the rain and the water threatened to return.
“No,
that’s so silly. You want to let it go. Throw it against a tree. But do
something, lady.” The fairy grew serious, but somehow the eager grin was stuck.
She
shrugged, and let go of the goblet in her hand. She saw it heading for a tree.
…And it shattered, like so much glass. She sighed, and opened her eyes.
Sage
7-23-12
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