Fairymythicles: Fairymythicles Volume 1

By Jackie Needham

In the past, Fairy Tales were read or told to young ones while sitting on a parent or grandparent’s lap in a favorite easy chair, or when they were tucked into bed before drifting off to sleep. The stories were told with love, a kiss to the forehead, and finally, a blanket adjusted to keep the young ones warm for the night. Variations of the tales came to the parents when they were just toddlers themselves and adapted for re-telling. Generations of this kind of thing have filtered out most of the truth behind them. Fairy Tales weren’t meant only for kids. Only how they were censored and presented made them so. Fairymythicles brings back wonderful, magical events and creatures to contemplate and watch for where they may exist now. What we learn from them fuels our imaginations to realize what we have been missing out on because we thought we should have outgrown them. We didn’t have to and we shouldn’t have. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jackie Needham
• Release date: May 25, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386927457

Book preview

INTRODUCTION

Most of us believe myths, legends, and magical beings are fanciful figments of vivid imaginations and yet many of the wonderful stories told about them have roots based in fact. However, the stories handed down to us have been twisted from one generation to the next, a person at a time. It has gotten to the point where the stories became so exaggerated that nobody knows anymore what parts are true or not. But rumor has it that the magical beings in these myths and legends were forced to save themselves by adapting and still may be among us.

––––––––

ACKNOWLEGEMENTS

I want to express my heartfelt thanks and also trumpet my

appreciation for the talents of both author Maria Carvalho

and artist E.D Hill. They both contributed their time and

unquestionable skills from when I first pitched my ideas,

all the way to the book's completion. I believed very

strongly then, as I do now, that these stories be told. I

know how much effort was expended on this project. Every

Fairymythicle in this book benefited by the credibility

I borrowed from these two wonderful people, not to

mention Maria's highly appreciated editing suggestions.

Not only was this valued by me, but has to be said here

that trying to pay them back equitably would be impossible.

It is more than just the reasons I cite because Maria ALSO

has something very real to say.

I now present to you Maria Carvalho's story.

THE WINGS OF HAPPINESS

––––––––

Sometimes, from out-of-the-blue, a day arrives that ends up altering the course of a person’s life forever. A snowy Saturday in May would turn out to be just such a day for ten-year-old Ava Brandon. It was a day that changed everything.

An only child with loving parents, Ava was funny, kind, and easy-going–the kind of kid who made friends easily. Yet she was happiest when she was alone, playing outside in her family’s sprawling Colorado property, which was bordered by hundreds of acres of state forest. Save for a few trails enjoyed by the occasional hiker or geocacher, the forest was as pristine as it had been for thousands of years. Unmarred by houses or any other trappings of civilization, the tree-laden land was crisscrossed by streams and punctuated with high rock outcroppings. As much as Ava enjoyed being at school with her friends, she could not wait to get home every day and run freely in the sanctuary of those woods. On weekends, she was in her glory, creating her own outdoor adventures in rosy-cheeked contentment.

One Friday evening in early May, after a week where it had seemed that spring was finally starting to take hold, a rare late-season snowstorm hit the small town where Ava and her parents lived. She was amazed when she awoke the next morning to find the countryside aglitter in almost a foot of snow. Whooping with glee and running downstairs, she devoured a quick breakfast and then bundled herself up in her snow gear. She headed outside and ran through the deep snow to greet her petite mother, who was filling the multitude of birdfeeders that surrounded the house.

Can you believe this crazy snow? her mom said with a sigh, her curly blond hair spilling out haphazardly from under her woolen hat. I thought we’d seen the last of it for a while!

Yup, the birds are going to have to wear snowshoes, joked Ava, her hazel eyes shining. Then she raced off towards the backyard, where her father was hauling the snow blower out of the shed. He was so tall that he had to stoop in order to avoid whacking his head on the doorway.

Hey kiddo! he greeted her as she approached.

Hey dad! she called, lobbing a loose snowball in his direction, which fell far short.

Ooh, there’s that pinpoint accuracy, he teased. Listen–I know you’re about to have way more fun than I am, but make sure you’re careful back there, he said, gesturing to the woods behind them. Between the snow and the wind last night, there may be some branches down, he cautioned.

Don’t worry, I’ll be careful, Ava assured him. She took off through the powdery snow, which was almost up to her knees, and kept on running until the backyard gave way to the forest. Taking a moment to catch her breath, she gazed reverently at her surroundings. The woods sparkled in the early spring sunshine, the snow draping everything in shimmering splendor. The fat red buds on the trees stood in gorgeous contrast to their white surroundings. A hush had settled over the forest, and Ava could hear only the sound of her own breathing and the faint gurgling of streams in the distance.

Continuing on, she noticed–as her father had predicted–some tree branches hanging loosely overhead at awkward angles, and a number of downed limbs protruding from the snow. She walked carefully, panting as she trudged along, until she spotted her destination: a huge pine tree towering regally over the surrounding woods. Ava had always felt that there was something majestic and almost magical about the tree, which she had dubbed ‘The King of the Pine Trees’. She felt a sort of reverence for it, often leaning against its massive reddish trunk as she soaked in the peaceful beauty of the surroundings.

As she approached the pine, she heard a faint, high-pitched sound. Ava paused, listening intently for the source of the noise. She heard it again, and this time, she could tell that it was coming from the ground to the right of the tree’s trunk. She scanned the surface in that area and saw a subtle movement in the snow. She walked towards it with great curiosity. Bending down to take a closer look, she spotted what appeared to be a small gold triangle sticking out of the snow. She cautiously began to dig around it, revealing something small that was a vivid shade of blue. When she gingerly scooped it up, she realized that it was a baby bird; the golden triangle she had noticed was its tiny golden beak, which was now opening and closing in a frenzy of the soft high-pitched notes that had drawn her attention. Its amber eyes were fixed on her with a look of terror. Even through her thick gloves, she could feel it trembling uncontrollably.

Oh, you poor sweetheart! Ava exclaimed, gently cradling the tiny chick. Where on Earth did you come from? she asked, looking up at the tree. From her vantage point, the majestic pine’s latticework of branches seemed to continue indefinitely until they met the bright cerulean sky. She scanned the branches, looking for signs of a nest, but to no avail. She looked back down at the shaking bird, whose stunning blue feathers shimmered with iridescence in the sunlight. She had never seen anything like it. "What kind of a bird are you? she asked, but it could only chirp in response. Ava’s heart melted in sympathy for the freezing, scared creature. Your mommy must be around here somewhere!" she declared, stepping back away from the tree to take another look for a nest. And then she spotted it: near the top of the towering pine, towards the end of a branch, she could just discern the outline of what looked like a nest. It was so far up that Ava wondered if she would be able to make the climb. For a moment she considered bringing the strange bird home with her, but she had a strong feeling that if she did not return it to its nest, it would die. She took a deep breath.

OK, little sweetie, she said resolutely to the helpless bird, Let’s get you back where you belong. She unsnapped the large front pocket of her winter coat and carefully deposited her fluffy passenger inside; only the tuft of blue feathers on its head was visible. Then she began to scale the tree, being careful to keep the pocket safely shielded from the branches. Although Ava had been climbing trees for years, she had never previously attempted to scale the King of the Pine Trees. Aside from the fact that its size was intimidating, she felt that climbing it would almost be disrespectful. But now she had no choice, and as she slowly and cautiously ascended, she tried not to think about how high up the nest actually was.

When she finally paused to rest for a moment, she looked around and was amazed to see how far she had already climbed–higher than she had ever been before. It was both exhilarating and somewhat terrifying. She peeked into her coat pocket and smiled when she saw that the little bird’s unusual eyes were closed; warm and snug, it was blissfully asleep. Okay–onward! she said to herself. As she continued climbing, the wind began to pick up. Powdery snow blew into Ava’s face, but it did not cool her determination.

When at last she spotted the nest not too far above her, she sighed with relief. She was astonished to see how intricate its construction was: glossy strands of ivy were woven together with twigs in alternating rows, forming a beautiful pattern unlike anything Ava had seen before. She marveled at the sight and wondered how a bird could have the ability to create something so complex. As she got closer, she could see that a large bird–which she assumed to be the mother of the chick that had fallen–was sitting atop the nest. The sun glinted off its impossibly blue feathers, which sparkled with the same iridescence as the chick’s. She expected the mother bird to fly off as she closed in, but it stayed put, gazing at Ava with mesmerizing eyes that looked exactly like the nestling’s. When she came within arm’s length of the nest, she could see two little blue-tufted heads peeking out from either side of the protective mother, who appeared to be anxiously eyeing the girl with distrust.

Ava gently pulled the sleeping baby bird from her coat pocket, startling it awake, and carefully held it up so that it could see its mother. She swore she could see a look of relief in the mother bird’s eyes as it beheld its fallen offspring, who had begun to make excited chirping and whistling sounds at the sight of its mother. Yes, it’s mama! cooed Ava, balancing herself against the branch that held the nest. The mother bird was now alternating its gaze between the girl and the chick that was cradled in her gloved hands.

Ava gingerly placed the excited baby into the nest and it snuggled into its mother, who tucked it underneath a wing as the other two nestlings continued to sleep. When the elder bird proceeded to fix its amber eyes on Ava, she felt an odd sensation, like a static electricity shock, but stronger. Ava smiled and said, You’re welcome. I’m glad I could help. But I’d better go now–my mom is protective too, and she’ll be worried if I’m not home in time for lunch! And with that, she began to climb down. While she was immensely relieved to have accomplished her mission successfully, she realized how exhausted and cold she was. She continued downward, laughing at herself for absentmindedly continuing to protect the pocket that had been the chick’s temporary home.

She was only a few minutes into her descent when, as she shifted her weight onto the branch below her, she heard a loud cracking noise and felt the branch give way beneath her feet. Before she could process what was happening, she was falling. She frantically tried to grab onto the pine’s branches as she fell, but her gloved hands kept slipping. Seeing the ground racing towards her, Ava suddenly realized that the impact might kill her. She flailed her arms in panic–and to her utter surprise, the action slowed her descent significantly. She hit the snow-cushioned ground a moment later, but because she had lost so much speed, she merely landed in an awkward sprawl without much force behind it.

Ava lay in the snow, her heart pounding as adrenaline raced through her slim body. She gazed up at the stately pine, the crisscross of its reddish branches outlined against the azure sky. She could barely make out the shape of the nest far above her. The branch that had cracked beneath her feet was not far below the nest; she knew it should not be possible that she was uninjured. Yet aside from her face being a little scratched up, she was fine. She shook her head in confusion. It simply did not make any sense.

After a few minutes, she stood, brushing the snow off and shaking it out of her long brown hair. She started walking in the direction of her house, then paused to glance back at the tree. Although she could not see the nest from where she stood, she sensed that the mother bird was watching her departure. Feeling a little sheepish, she waved, and then began to run home.

That night, Ava tossed restlessly in her bed, exhausted but unable to stop thinking about the events of the day. Although she usually chatted away to her parents about anything and everything, she had been uncharacteristically quiet after returning home. Aside from the fact that hearing about her fall would totally freak her parents out, Ava felt oddly protective about the strange birds, and some instinct at her core told her that the encounter had to remain a secret.

As she lay in the darkness, she kept replaying it all in her mind, confused thoughts whirling around her brain until at last she drifted off to sleep. She dreamed about the King of the Pine Trees in its snowy glory, of finding the helpless baby bird and the extraordinary nest, and the penetrating gaze of the mother bird. In her dream, Ava was perched on the end of the branch that held the nest, far above the forest floor. The mother bird was staring at her with its amber eyes, and then Ava calmly jumped off the branch, away from the tree, her outstretched arms pumping up and down in smooth, graceful strokes. She felt exhilarated as she propelled herself over the top of the grand tree, high up into the vast expanse of cerulean sky, and soared above the glittering landscape. She had never felt so completely free and at peace.

The dream was so vivid, so real, that Ava was stunned and disoriented when the sound of a passing siren jolted her awake. Her eyes darted around her bedroom, taking in the morning sunlight streaming through her lacy curtains, her calico cat curled up at the foot of the bed, and the bedside clock, which read 7:30. Her disappointment that the flying experience had only been a dream was palpable, yet she could not shake the