Part I
Running sideways on the vertical drop, toes sinking into the growing deep moss at top speed, the elven girl hopped down onto a giant, bumpy tree root. She swung down and around with expert agility just in time to capture a chipmunk with her left hand as he attempted to jump away, squealing. “You're it.” she laughed. Willow dropped her companion, Neno, on the splayed root tangle, and he immediately started to wash his ears and fur with his paw and tongue. He acted nonchalant as Willow swung down to investigate a moving, strange, bright multi-colored light in the thick of the woods over the gentlest part of the river. Neno jumped down to follow Willow as soon as he regained his pride with his fur nail combed, puffed out to make him appear larger than the 4 inches he bragged of while stretched out to his limit. The rodent loved his elven friend; he darted to catch up. Did she really need such giant strides? Willow was 10 in human years, which is equivalent to a 1-year old in elven years. She was left playing with animals instead of doing important work with her elders. Soon Willow would be crafting her own hunting tools, practicing archery, tanning clothes, cooking and doing other drudgeries, but for now she could be free and just play. The lithe elf started down the slope toward the river following the light. It blinked then sped behind a small stream's waterfall that fed into the great river. Neno squeaked a warning, “Fae bad!” Willow didn't want a lecture; she lived for adventure. She had never seen a fairy before, they tended to come out only while she was sleeping. How much harm could a tiny light create? Water smashed down and around her; it was much stronger as Willow reached out, into the falling stream. The sun peeked through the branched, green canopy above which made rainbows dance around her. Droplets were sparkling as she engulfed herself in the mist. “Hey!” Neno yelled to be heard next to the blasting waterfall echo. His high pitched squeak caught Willow's attention and she was temporarily started out of her reverie. She grabbed her little buddy and tossed him onto her shoulder, to return her attention as quickly as possible to capturing the spark. The fuzzy slid into her quiver. Part !! Sierra Sunshine rode her pony slowly, over the crest of the little foothill as the sun slid into the golden, pink sparkles. She noticed none of the glorious beauty surrounding her, not the trees, the sky, or even the adorable country houses she rode past. Sierra was completely lost in her thoughts, scenes of the fight she had with her best friend, Nita Bug were playing over and over in her head. "Towhead", what did that mean, anyway? Sierra didn't even blink before punching her best friend right in the gut. They were on the playground, in front of everyone. No one was really paying attention though, and Bug punched her right back and that was that. They spun around and huffed off their separate ways right between the tall slide and swings. Neither of the blows did much damage, no wind was lost nor was there evidence of any physical damage. The yard duty teacher didn't see anything even though she was 20 feet away and looking right in their direction. The pain was mental. It had hurt Sierra's feelings. Bug even got off the bus at the bus stop on the other side of the hill so she obviously wasn't wanting to make amends. Sierra didn't know what to think, why would Bug call her names? They had never been in a fight before. Her parents weren't home, they were both working so when Sierra jumped on her pony instead of doing her chores only her brother noticed. He didn't even glance up from his role playing game. Wizards were needed in this nether world, an ogre had released the dragons and they were reigning terror on the elves. Who cared what his 9 year old sister did? She was a pain, anyway. Sierra was probably going to play with Bug, they were always involved in silly girl games while Byron was busy doing manly things, like starting a war with the slavers and saving fair maidens. A strong girl, Sierra had strawberry blonde hair and was "kissed by the sun" too many times if you asked her. The freckles made her feel self conscious. She cared for chickens, horses, steer, goats, sheep, geese and a couple of idiotic turkeys on their small family farm. They also had dogs, cats and a pond filled with gigantic catfish. Sugar, was her special pony. He was a gift from her dad, because she worked so hard. Sierra didn't know any other 4th graders that woke up before the sun, milked the goats, fed the horses, steer and chickens, then gathered eggs for breakfast. Sugar was her reward, and never was there a prize pony on earth that could compare. He would have to be her new best friend since Bug was obviously no longer a contender. Bug was what the other parents referred to as "different." She followed her own rules, spoke up when she wasn't supposed to and didn't even go to regular church. She got in trouble a lot. Bug's mom was Asian, Sierra's mom said they went to a temple full of monks and worshiped a golden Buddha. Bug never went, though, and said that it was all a load of crap anyway. She complained her mom only went to have lunch and hang out with her Thai friends. She wouldn't take Bug even if she wanted to go. Bug believed she had a native American soul. She believed the Great Spirit was everywhere, especially in nature. "Going to a building where people tell you how you'll burn is just a creepy way to spend your Sunday. I'd rather catch frogs, pick flowers and listen to the birds tell me a story." Sierra felt the same way, but she wasn't going to tell her mom that. There was no reason to get in trouble. They were usually too busy on their little farm to go to church every week anyway. Sierra's dad also worked too much. Sierra's family was old fashioned. Her mom was from Georgia and her dad was from Texas. They were both southern raised, but moved to California before Sierra was born. All Sierra knew was that she was very lucky. She was blessed with the wondrous four seasons of her own lush and fertile foothills. The lands she grew up in were originally Native American, her family farm was near the "Indian Springs." Nita Bug and Sierra were constantly searching their properties for the actual spring, which they believed had magical properties. They had so much fun together pretending they were Native American, it was Nita Bug's favorite past time, and sometimes it felt so real, like they had gone back in time and they belonged only to the mother earth and father sun. Sierra's favorite game was searching for the flower fairies. Sierra had a lot of books her mom gave her about the fairies and each of their special and unique talents. Sierra only looked at the pictures of most books, but these were an exception, she wanted to memorize each detail about the plants and their healing properties. Sierra loved recognizing and comparing the actual plant to the painting in the book. She pretended she was the fairy depicted, and wanted nothing more than to catch a glimpse of a real fairy, or even better to be one. "No, mom, I cannot feed the steer, I'm busy healing this honey bee's hurt wing." Sierra frowned, Bug would have laughed at that with her. She missed her friend. As if her thoughts manifested matter, there was Nita Bug, only 20 feet in front of her bent over in the ditch, her derriere sticking up out of a patch of gold and orange poppies right next to the old gravel road. She was bent over in the weeds on her hands and knees as if she had lost something. This was strange and unusual, Nita Bug always had her head buried in a book, or was up in a tree. Her books were tossed in a pile right in the street, meaning she hadn't even stopped at her home after school. Why did she get off at this stop? This was Sierra's bus stop. Bug lived just around the corner, but the road the bus could go on only went around the other side of their big foothill. What was Bug doing? Sierra Sunshine was torn. She wanted to stop and talk to Nita Bug, to pretend nothing had happened at recess, but what if Nita Bug started calling her names? Would Sierra have to punch her in the face this time? Did they need to escalate this war to the next level, like she often did with her brother, (to get their dad's attention)? The thought of punching Nita Bug again hurt her heart. Sierra's stomach lurched, and she felt suddenly sick. Sugar noticed and stomped loudly. He snorted and swished his tail and stopped right next to Bug. They knew one another well. Nita Bug always brought him apples or carrots when she visited. He wasn't going anywhere just in case she had some hidden for him. Sugar started munching the grass. “No poppies, Sugar.” Sierra warned. She knew from her studies that poppies had hallucinatory effects, whatever that meant, it sounded terrible. “There it is again!” Bug cried out but to whom, Sierra wasn't quite sure. Her curiosity was peaked though, and dismounted. Nita Bug was crawling in the ditch, face deep in the poppies, The flaming soft petals swayed gently in a hidden breeze. They were not in the least bothered by the wild child within their midst. Mango colored poppies were Sierra's favorite Springtime flower. She recalled the images in her flower reference book. The closest match she could find was a little boy fairy named “The Horned Poppy Fairy.” The genus was a little different, but within the same family; a cousin as opposed to a sister or brother flower. Bug didn't even bother to look up when Sierra stepped right next to her head, trying to avoid the flower bunches, and step more on weeds. “Careful”, Nita Bug warned, “I think I have him trapped.” With that astonishing announcement Sierra dropped to her knees to see what poor creature Bug had in her clutches. It was not like Nita Bug to hurt any living thing, she even caught spiders in their homes and released them outside instead of squishing them like most people. An incredibly bright, almost painful sparkling light hit Sierra Sunshine directly in eyes and she was forced to blink, and she cried out loud. “You little stinker,” Nita Bug warned their attacker, “fight fair.” Was Nita Bug mad? She appeared to be talking to a chunk of rounded wood or what may have been a piece of jewelry or a broken piece of a mirror she had hidden under it. The reflecting object could have been anything, why was Nita Bug acting so unusually strange? Sierra, recovered from the light flash, still blinking and forgot about their personal playground misunderstanding. “What was that?” she asked, wondering if Nita Bug even knew. “It attacked me on my way home,” Bug explained without looking up, her eyes intent as a cat on a hummingbird. “I was reading and walking and this little sucker, this fairy or whatever it is, flew right in my face, stung me on the nose, then went around my head and laughed in my ear. He flew back to the front of my face, blinded me with a flash of light that stung both my eyes and then hid down here, under these poppies. I have it trapped with this piece of wood, I think. Did it get you?” “Something reflected into my eyes.” Sierra Sunshine answered, but wasn't quite sure what to say or do next. She could still see spots when she blinked, but if Nita Bug hadn't lost her mind, then there may be a dream come true under the rounded hollow of wood that Bug held . Time seemed to have stopped. Sierra Sunshine had been waiting for this her entire life, or at least for the years she could remember. The poppies began spinning before her, she was afraid she was passing out. Everything became blurry. The last thing she remembered was Nita Bug yelling, and the sound became further and further away and the words indistinguishable.
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