So I wrote a little tale for them and really enjoyed doing it. It was nice to have a prompt to work with and not have the pressure of the story being perfect. I suppose it was the equivalent of an artists doodle, unpolished but loved.
Do you find it helpful to get prompts or can you get a story started from thin air?
Anyway, here's my little story. Please give it a read and let me know what you think.
Take care
A bead of water held the tip of a single blade of grass that had sprouted between a bright yellow dandelion and some fluffy looking ragweed. The droplet of early morning dew fell to the ground and filled a tiny hole that had been made overnight by a passing mouse. A Harlequin Ladybird stepped towards the new pool on dainty black legs. He looked up at the dawn sky before taking a sip from the sweet tasting water. The ladybird smiled at his handsome reflection before opening his wings and flying up, up towards the warm rays of the sun.
“Goodbye, Mr Ladybird,” Old Man Pixieford called out as the insect passed his leafy home. He took a long draw on his carved pipe and blew out a thick cloud of purple coloured smoke.
Old Man Pixieford lived in the tallest Oak tree in Willowbrook Woods with his children and his beautiful wife, Marie. She was a Hawthorn Fairy with great green wings and she flicked them gently as she walked along the thin twig to her husband’s leafy seat. She paused behind him, looking out across the bright horizon, at the lands that she and her husband had ruled for so many years.
“It won’t be long now my love,” the old pixie said.
Marie fluttered her wings gently. She was always amazed at how her husband could tell when she was near him, even without looking.
“No one can live forever,” she said.
“Our children will be okay won’t they?”
“Of course they will, you’ve taught them well.” She put her hand upon his shoulder.
Two young fairy sisters watched from the shadows as their father stood, turned, and took their mother in his arms. He stroked her hair with one wrinkled hand and kissed her upon the forehead. She kissed him back and they both smiled. Slowly, they pulled each other close and became seeds, taken by the wind to begin again.
Harley, fairy of the raspberry bush, felt a single solitary tear roll down her cheek but she had a smile on her lips. Tayla put her arm round her shoulders and opened up her rounded purple wings. She was the million bells fairy, who took care of the hanging baskets outside of the Willowbrook Woods.
“They have gone back home now, Harley, to start again.”
“Do you think they’re happy?” the little red fairy said to her sister.
The sisters looked down from the tree and saw the seed that had been their parents, settle into the small pool beneath the single blade of grass. The dandelion watched the seed sink in to the ground and he bowed his head in honour and respect. The ragweed lifted her hairy leaves to the sky and with beautiful tones, her many flowered heads began to sing.
“Time stands still when fairies die,
A whispered kiss, a silent sigh,
We bow our heads to say goodbye,
Then with a tear, salute the sky.”
The ragweed continued to sing, her voice weaving between bushes and trees, through branches and leaves. It crossed clear ponds, sending ripples across the surface, calling to the shimmering fish and asking them to pay their respect. Her voice lifted, up and up, breaking through the clouds so that every bird knew the news. Old Man Pixieford and Old Lady Hawthorn, had left the earth. They would return, but for now, you can cry.
Chapter Two – The Wise Fairy
Harley and Tayla went to the little pool every day to touch the ground and sprinkle it with fairy dust, coating the dirt with a golden sheen. The seed had sunk beneath the surface and there was no trace that could be seen.
“Why isn’t it growing?” asked Tayla as she fluttered her wings and raised herself off the ground.
“I don’t know,” answered Harley. “We are doing everything they asked us too. We make sure there is sweet dew to soak the ground. That the canopy has been cleared and a single ray of sunshine can meet the seedling when it breaks the surface. We sprinkle the ground with our magic fairy dust to urge it into growth, but it’s been three weeks now, and there is still no sign that the plant will grow.”
Harley looked across at Tayla, who had landed again and was crouching with her hand on the damp earth. She had her eyes closed and appeared to be silently weeping.
“We must have done something wrong,” she cried as her purple wings dimmed down to a pale blue.
“We have done everything father taught us,” said Harley as she opened her sparkling red wings and flew to her sister.
“Not quite everything.” A voice from behind made them both jump.
“Who are you?” Harley asked, her feet still a few centimetres off the ground.
The tiny fairy in front of them had long black hair, braided close to her head. A pair of wings, narrow and tall stood up from her back. They were of the brightest yellow and wispy hairs that glowed like jewels stood from their tips.
“I am Lisa,” the fairy said, “fairy of the Golden Lily’.
Tayla chuckled, but not unkindly as fairies are rarely unkind. “But we have no golden lilies in Willowbrook Woods.”
“Really?” Lisa said. “Oh dear.” She looked upset.
“Don’t be upset, Lisa,” said Harley. Her red wings shone like rubies as she flicked them one last time and landed on the ground. “What did you mean when you said that we hadn’t done everything to help this seed grow?”
“You have given it water?” Lisa asked.
“The sweetest of early morning dew,” Harley answered with a nod.
“And you have given it light?”
“From a single ray,” Tayla confirmed.
“And you have offered it love and a sprinkling of fairy dust?”
The fairy sisters nodded.
“Then there is one thing more that you need.”
Harley and Tayla looked intently as Lisa fluttered her golden wings and lifted into the sky. The sun reflected off her wings in yellow blades of light.
“The last thing you need, is the magic of music.”
Chapter Three – Their Fathers Request
Harley, Tayla and Lisa sat at the bottom of the old Oak tree and watched a family of centipedes march past. Harley was thinking about her father’s teachings in those last days before he returned to the soil.
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“You must make sure that you give us plenty of water, plenty of sun, lots of love and fairy dust,” he had said through mouthfuls of purple smoke.
The two sisters had been sitting in their woody home while their mother, the hawthorn fairy, cooked a sweet smelling meal of acorn soup and sparrow eggs.
“Please sing to me,” Old Man Pixieford had said. “You have such beautiful voices.”
So the Raspberry Bush Fairy and the Million Bells Fairy had sung their sweet melodies in soaring contralto. Their parents had listened to them with broad smiles on their faces. Even the wind had held its breath to hear the sound.
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Tayla had been thinking of the same thing and the sisters looked at each other as they realised that their father hadn’t requested that they sing to him then, only that they promise to sing to the seed.
“You are a very wise fairy, Lisa,” Harley said to her new friend.
“Not wise enough, it would appear,” said Lisa in reply. She spoke quietly, her downcast eyes directed into the golden flames of the fire they had built up, now that the sun had gone down.
“Why do you say that?” Tayla asked and moved over beside the golden lily fairy.
“I dreamed that there was a golden lily here that needed my help,” said Lisa. “But you tell me there are no golden lilies in Willowbrook Wood.” She began to sob gently. “I have travelled so far.”
“There, there, Lisa.” Harley had flown across the flames and was now holding Lisa in her arms.
“You can help me with the hanging baskets tomorrow if you want?” said Tayla. “We may spy a golden lily in a pot on someone’s kitchen table if we’re lucky!”
Lisa began to smile. “That would be wonderful, thank you!” Lisa stood up and her yellow wings opened. “The first stars are out, my friends. It is the most magic of times. We must sing to the seed now.”
Harley stood and opened her raspberry red wings. The light from the fire danced off of them like flaming embers, dispelling shadows from the darkening ground. Tayla spiralled as her wings opened and she rose gently up into the air. Purple shards were sent sparkling through the trees.
The three fairies, in a kaleidoscope of beautiful colours set off through the forest, towards the seed.
Chapter Four – The Song of Willowbrook Woods
Harley, Tayla and Lisa arrived in the clearing between the dandelion and the ragweed. The plants were silent, their heads bowed in the dusky evening. The pool of water was still, not even a ripple disturbing its surface. There was a slight breeze and the single blade of grass trembled at its touch.
Lisa fluttered over to the dandelion and held its stem with a dainty hand. The dandelion raised its head and stretched long leaves upwards towards the sky. Tayla flew, twisting into the air and held the stem beneath the ragweed’s flowery head. The ragweed woke and began to hum a gentle tune as she swayed softly back and forth. Harley opened her beautiful red wings and lifted herself up into the sky. She landed on the tip of the blade of grass, which bent only slightly.
The three fairies, simultaneously reached behind themselves and touched the bottom of their wings. They threw their hands forwards and released showers of magical golden fairy dust. The ragweed’s tune grew louder and all manner of creatures made their way carefully into the clearing, appearing from behind trees and from beneath rocks. Crickets played the instruments in their legs and the sound of violins made the stars twinkle in the night sky. Centipedes and millipedes and all manner of multi-legged creatures walked the circumference of the clearing, their legs tapping a perfect beat. Hairy bodied moths and black spotted ladybirds beat their wings and clapped to the handsome music. The sounds of the forest came alive, insects whistled and birds sang, rodents performed ballet and trees danced the jig. The three fairies looked at each other and began to sing.
“Willowbrook Woods, alive with the sound,
Of all life above, and under the ground,
The magic of nature has surely been found,
So please grow this seedling so it can be crowned.”
The forest suddenly fell silent and everyone looked towards the pool in the mouse’s footprint, between the dandelion and the ragweed, and beneath the blade of grass. The water began to glow, gently at first but then stronger, becoming blinding, like a part of the sun. The ground seemed to gently vibrate and a small crack appeared, taking the water away beneath the surface. A small green tip appeared and every spectator seemed to lean forwards at the same time, looks of awe and wonder etched across their faces.
The stem continued to grow, upwards, straight and proud, until it had reached the height of its neighbouring plants. The grass moved to the side, to allow it room to grow and Harley fluttered down to watch from the ground, where her sister and new friend also now stood. Three broad, white speckled leaves sprouted from the base of the stem, uncurling until they formed hands that held the three fairies close, as if in a familiar hug. A bead of golden light moved up the stem. As it reached the tip it began to expand and everyone turned their heads, unable to look directly at the increasing orb. The forest was alight and silent.
When everything dimmed again, the three fairies turned their heads and looked at the new plant. Everyone stared at the beautiful creation. Where there had been nothing but a pool of water in the footprint of a mouse only minutes before, now stood a spectacular golden lily.
Epilogue
Harley went about her business, tending the bushes of raspberries which circled the woods. Tayla went out every day at first light, to play with the plants in the hanging baskets of the neighbouring village. Lisa decided to stay in Willowbrook Woods with the fairy sisters, to look after the golden lily.
There were, of course, many other fairies in Willowbrook Woods and they each had their own little jobs. Many of them visited the golden lily in the evening as the stars began to twinkle and the moon greeted the sky. They all sang songs and laughed and played, and every time they did, the golden lily grew a little stronger and the flower grew a little brighter.
It would not be too long now before it was ready. Not long before Old Man Pixieford and Old Lady Hawthorne could return to the Willowbrook Woods. Harley and Tayla looked forward to that day, and Lisa did too.
The End