The Orange Blossom Fairy

By Scharie Hilton

Pure Fairy Magic
Dark Warlock Magic

Fierce black creatures begin appearing across the land. Fairies are blighted with sickness. Communication between enchanted folk has become progressively difficult and a dark green cloud is forming above the Mountain of Morton.
King Rollo of Silver City is concerned. He sends his finest Wizard named Zane, to determine the cause of the upheaval in the land of Taramos
Soon…Wizard Zane, on his quest for information, has found more than he bargained for. Now, he, Shea the Witch, Sasha and Silvera the Orange Blossom Fairy are embroiled on an adventure none had ever imagined.
A small army of misfits, an overzealous warlock, dwarves, trolls and even a little demon boy come together in a twist of chaos, romance, and determination to bring harmony back to Taramos.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Jul 21, 2016
• ISBN: 9781532000850

Scharie Hilton

Scharie Hilton was born in Edmonton, Alberta, grew up in the Okanagan Valley B.C. She now resides in Edmonton, Alberta. Completed B of A university transfer at Grant MacEwan University, also attended Concordia University where she studied psychology. Her personal adoration is with her three sons, and her family. She has a passion for creating fantasy worlds for her readers to get swept into.

Book preview

Prologue

S ilvera was her name. The Orange Blossom Fairy in the bottle. She was but a very young fairy, born in her flower only a few moons ago.

She was not quite like the other females. She did not want to take over a person’s body. She fought against it as she felt it was too extreme. The others had forced her. They said they would shun her, and sell her to the great ugly mountain troll named Bole as a slave, one the worst possible punishments for a fairy. The trolls were always looking for Fairy Folk to own, like a pet. Shackled in a magic cage she would be used to perform daily chores and create food specialties with her fairy magic. For his amusement she would have to clean his large, hairy smelly ears and nose with large sticks of cotton. That alone was enough to make her cringe.

Yes, she cried that day. I will do it.

She kept her anger inside. One day she would be free to live her own way. She wanted to live the ‘old fairy way’ where tricks were fun but harmless really.

Silvera prayed every day to the Fairy Goddess, Loomenesse and wondered why she was allowing this to happen. If she had a choice, she would make dreams come true with magic. Her pale perfect face lit up and beamed. She wanted to be that kind of fairy - a dream bringer.

This real evil had just begun moons before she was born. It was a twisting of the magic. It was causing the minds of the fairies to slip into madness. Silvera frowned. She did not know in what way or why, or how to stop it. And now that she was here stuck in a bottle, she felt powerless.

So she waited and watched fearfully to see what the witch was planning for her. Perhaps somehow, someway she could get away? After all, she was a clever little fairy. Her little wings sparkled and twinkled at the thought.

Chapter One

S asha sat down on the grassy knoll with a tired sigh. She admired the perfect blossoming flowers, small delicate orange blooms that filled a nearby valley. Their sweet essence permeated the air. The rolling hills and perfect afternoon sky made her heart smile. She had been searching the outskirts of her village collecting bluebell berries for her grandmother. The bluebell berries were picked for special occasions. This occasion being her thirteenth birthday, which was soon approaching.

Sasha had lost track of the time and had wandered quite far. She knew some of the stories regarding dangerous areas outside of her village. Some things were as simple as snakes and insects. Some areas were known for wandering trolls and numerous magical creatures that prowled the land. Some areas were dangerous to enter based on magic alone. But in her eagerness to please her grandmother she had wandered too far and lost her way.

Sasha’s eyes searched the hillside, probing for landmarks. She was quite athletic and did not understand why she felt so drained of her energy. Every moment her body felt evermore light and disconnected. Her surroundings were unexpectedly changing and becoming unfamiliar. Sasha stared in awe; down at the bottom of the knoll, there shimmered the most picturesque lake she had ever seen. Not perfect blue, but a brilliant violet with swirling shades of darkest purple and delicate pinks.

She quickly rubbed her eyes not believing the apparition before her. As she glanced around nervously, she realized this place must be enchanted. Suddenly under her feet the grass was velvet soft and rich pastel blue! Not green, but blue. The velvety softness reminded Sasha of a downy fleece blanket, this one laid out just for her to sleep upon. Tall trees spiraled up with large crimson red leaves that permeated the scent of sweet oranges. An orange peach tinge glowed richly from the sky that made everything appear delicate.

A hissing noise brought Sasha quickly to her feet, her bones and body weak with the effort. She unsheathed her short sword and took a defensive stance. Her expressive green eyes grew wide with fear as she glanced up. This creature before her was covered in shiny green slime. Scales moved as the creature breathed heavily. An ugly bulbous mouth gaped wide with drool. The cold and red eyes fixed on Sasha. Sasha could not move. They stood locked in place, staring at each other.

As quick as a blink the creature evaporated into a wisp of pure white smoke. It hung in the air for a moment. Then it gently floated toward a small black flower pod nearby where it was swiftly sucked in.

Sasha stood and stared in disbelief at the unusual pod. The pod began to pulsate a vivid red, like a warning beacon.

Have I gone mad, or am I dreaming? she breathed to herself shaking her head. I must be more exhausted than I thought.

As she yawned loudly, Sasha slowly slumped to the ground pulling her short sword tightly beside her.

Soon the softness of the grass and the intoxicating orange smell of the brilliant orange flowers lulled her to sleep.

After a short time Sasha woke slowly still in a dream state. Before her an exquisite fairy floated, so small and splendid. White satin appeared to embrace her form, falling in flowing caressing folds. Magical shimmering particles spun and danced around her. Long flowing waves of bright orange hair fell around her like silk. Her face was breathtakingly perfect, as though carved from flawless ivory yet sharp and angular. Her large violet eyes enchanted Sasha, pulling Sasha into a world of eternal sleep, known as the fairy enchantment.

Do not be afraid, we will see you to the end, you’ve come far, rest…rest. Her voice was musical, like a soft flute lulling her away from the real world.

Sasha tried to speak but no words would come.

Her eyelids grew heavy as she slid into a deep, soft and inviting cloud that curled about her like loving arms.

The fairy was captivated. Her first victim, her eyebrows arched in pleasant surprise, yet, her sharp face pinched in concern as well. ‘How sad,’ she thought. Her form spun delicate in the air, then turned completely into magic dust, slowly drifting to Sasha’s face. With one deep unconscious breath, Sasha inhaled the magic dust.

Sasha was lost.

In the distance a voice called urgently, Sasha…Sasha where are you?

Sasha fought against sleep as she heard her brother’s voice calling to her, distant and fuzzy. As she lifted her head, trying to open her eyes, dizziness filled her vision making her head fall back to the ground.

She was trying desperately to wake. But the fairy magic was too strong as she fell into blackness again.

Sasha! Rolf cried as he spotted her on the ground just ahead. What are you doing here? Of all places? he shouted in anxiety.

Rolf grabbed Sasha and cradled her in his lean strong arms, quickly making his way as fast as he could away from the grassy knoll.

As Rolf ran he thought quickly where to get help. I have to get you to the witch, or you will die for sure. His face lined with anguish.

Pure adrenaline coursed through Rolf’s body as he ran seemingly forever across the clearing towards the Dark Woods. Swamps and tangled trees surrounded his destination, a place where only the brave dared to enter.

The witch Shea’s hut was still far and travel was difficult through the bog. With each step his energy was waning and getting harder to manage.

The muck crept up to his knees in places, slowing his progress further making him pant with tired desperation. Rolf began choking as the pungent scent of decay filled his burning over-worked lungs. Bent and crooked black stick like trees seemed to reach out scratching his face. Rolf yelled out in anger, forcing himself to stay strong.

Sasha’s limp body swung wildly with each impeded step.

Rolf felt despair begin to creep into his heart as he was having difficulty seeing the end of the bog. With a great heave he repositioned Sasha’s body up on his shoulders. Mud and swamp slime clung to his boots.

As tears streamed down his face, he saw a clearing and just ahead of that, a path. ‘Finally,’ he thought, ‘the end of this bog.’ The path just barely distinguishable between two large twisted Balla trees. The path was like thick wet soft grass and his boots sank slightly into the ground making soft squishing sounds as he passed. Then Rolf entered the Dark Woods.

The Dark Woods felt ominous and filled Rolf with unease. The woods were full of twisted gnarly vine covered trees of various sorts.

Rolf knelt for a minute trying to catch his breath but seeing the pale color of Sasha’s face filled Rolf with fear. Angel Vavern give me strength, he breathed softly as he bravely rose up and ran on.

Rolf knew it was not far to the witch’s hut from here. She lived close to the edge of the dank forest, but travel was still difficult, the path rocky and slippery.

A small, old bent wooden bridge covered a slow moving creek that led to the witch’s hut; it creaked loudly as Rolf moved quickly across it.

As he ran he yelled urgently, Hurry, hurry…she’s been in the Valley of the Orange Flowers!

The witch’s hut stood directly ahead. Its dark old rotting wood sagged and moss covered the entire roof. Smoke curled unnaturally from the bent chimney pipe.

Rolf barged into the hut demanding the witch’s attention. Rolf gently laid Sasha on an old table in the center of the room. Rolf’s soft blond hair swept across his forehead as he lay her down, the sweat running down the side of his handsome face.

The room was dark and unpleasant, with odd collections hanging about the walls and on shelves. Shadows crept in corners, teasing the eye for fright that something unnatural lurked there, waiting.

His deep blue-gold eyes turned pleadingly to the surprisingly young witch woman, Shea. The witch stood tall, angry at the intrusion. Her face was white, yet smooth like porcelain with the blackest ebony eyes.

Her features were not pleasant, yet not unpleasant. She stood and scrutinized the situation. Her cold black eyes piercing his, but Rolf held her gaze with equal determination.

You dare to enter here? snarled an extremely large, what looked to Rolf to be a dark green cat. Its bulbous shining yellow eyes were oddly disturbing.

The witch regarded Rolf; her long thick black greasy hair swept the ground as she moved closer.

Rolf looked at her in confusion. Why is the cat speaking and not you?

I speak for the witch, the cat spoke again.

Rolf found the sound almost comical, and if the situation at hand had not been so urgent he may have laughed. The cat sounded like a screeching violin with syllables for notes.

It is I, Rolf, remember I saved your wicked life once? I need you to repay me by saving my sister’s life! Rolf grew impatient, and was exhausted. Please… she has not long to live. Worry creased his brow.

Shea looked upon Rolf with distrust for a moment, then her face softened at the memory. Yes, now I do recognize you…I will help you, the cat’s cacophonic voice said calmly.

The witch moved close to Sasha. The cat jumped up on the table near Sasha’s hip. Pretty, purred the cat.

Shea appraised the young girl. Her long thin graceful body and was dressed in a simple pastel green doeskin-hunting outfit. Her skin was as a peach, soft in delicate perfection. She had long smooth blonde hair with three different lengths of bangs, the longest part tied back with a special magical diamond silver thread. Her lashes were violet and fanned softly touching the tops of her cheeks. Shea could see from her well-formed arms and leg muscles she had not had a soft life.

You said she was in the Valley of the Orange Blossom Flowers where the fairies live, Shea queried, it was more of a statement than a question.

Rolf nodded and pulled an old chair close.

The witch began to prepare for the ritual. She lit many strange colored candles. They cast an eerie glow around the decrepit hut. The cat chanted in a strange language unknown to Rolf.

Why do you speak through the cat? It’s very unnerving, stated Rolf.

If you think it’s difficult for you, think how it feels for me. The witch drew strange symbols around Sasha with a black chalky substance.

Let’s just say a certain warlock is no longer a friend. For punishment, he transported my voice into the cat! And yes I am trying to rectify the situation, but curiously the curse is rather difficult to break… the cat mumbled something about magic and uncertainties as the witch continued the ritual.

Shea placed a large transparent green bottle near Sasha’s mouth; a stopper hung on a silver chain around the bottle’s neck. The witch swayed. The cat chanted. Rolf sat tensed. The pitch rose to a noisy frenzy. Rolf’s strong fingers gripped the chair as he leaned forward intensely watching.

Slowly a wisp of magic dust rose out of Sasha’s slightly open mouth, and floated into the green bottle. The witch put the stopper into the bottle, the thin silver chain clinking softly against the glass. The magic dust slowly stopped swirling suddenly forming back into the beautiful little Orange Blossom Fairy.

The fairy floated, fearfully peering at them out of the glass and cried. Two perfect little diamond teardrops fell and tinkled as they hit the bottom of the glass bottle.

Its beauty so unlike the wickedness in its heart, the cat said as the witch gazed pitifully at the fairy. Then Shea’s eyes gleamed at the tears.

What will happen to her? Rolf’s heart went out to the creature, so perfect and amazing. Seeing an Orange Blossom Fairy was almost miraculous in itself, he sat in awe of the sight.

Shea’s face turned into a twisted grin. Why she must die of course, it won’t be a pretty sight, so I will wait until you leave.

Sasha groaned lifting her dainty head. Where am I?

Rolf jumped up and pulled Sasha into his arms and held her tightly. Am I glad to hear your voice! he cried.

He laid her back down on the table and held her hands in his. You were lost in the Valley of the Orange Blossoms… you see, the Orange Blossom Fairies were banned to the outer hills because they were causing so much trouble. Once and a while when an unsuspecting victim comes along the female fairy will lure him or her to sleep until she can take over the body. Later returning to life among others like us.

How dreadful, cried Sasha. And sad. Do you mean all the beautiful things I saw, the violet lake and the blue grass were just a dream from her magic? Sasha pointed at the bottle as the fairy continued to peer at them.

Yes, said Rolf. There may be a few living amongst us now, but after a while they tend to revert back into their mischievous selves, thereby giving themselves away as to what they really are! I must remember to teach you about the warning creatures set up around the perimeter of such places.

Then Rolf grew very serious. You know you are not to wander so far alone! Rolf admonished his sister.

Sasha felt bad as she saw him sag with relief. She saw his eyes full of care.

I’m sorry Rolf, She gave him a remorseful smile. I am feeling very tired Rolf, can we go home? She swept a delicate arm over her forehead.

Yes of course. He picked her small body up off the old table. She reached her hands around his neck and laid her head on his shoulder.

Sasha stared sleepily at the perfect fairy, the deadly creature, so beautiful and those tears. She felt mesmerized. Those tears so perfectly shaped and fantastical, she dreamily contemplated.

I thank you for your kindness, Rolf sent a beaming white smile at the witch.

Yes, Murmured Sasha sleepily.

Do not thank me so quickly, said the cat with a smirk, a twisted cat smirk. I may seek you out one day for a purpose.

The witch smiled back at Rolf, but her smile was hard, her mouth suddenly filled with long sharp tainted teeth.

The cat cackled wickedly.

Rolf’s face paled and his eyes were filled with concern. We are even… remember? he said slowly and quickly exited the hut. He could hear the cat chuckle as he moved quickly out the old wooden door.

***

Later that week, on a balmy evening, Sasha sat at her small carefully crafted wooden vanity, brushing her long soft blond hair. She was thinking over the past week’s events. The room was warm and glowed with orange and delicate peach firelight. This was her room, built inside the trunk of a massive Redwood Tree.

The entire Village of Shoul was set up on a site of impressive flowing hills filled with majestic trees that seemed to touch the sky, their homes- the Tawny. Each tree emblazed with a family crest, her family bearing the name - Geluk.

She always remembered with fondness her father saying, Good strong name. This he would bellow out loud with his booming voice.

She smiled as she thought of her family. Her father Wulf, he was a massive tall and brawny man with black thick unwieldy curly hair. He was always fawning over his proud unruly moustache and beard. She was proud of him. He was renowned for his generous heart and his vibrant smile that always reached his kind expressive amber eyes.

And her mother Jewel, she was tall and graceful with short choppy blond hair and green eyes. She was always full of vigor and fun. She was expressive and had a ready smile.

Her brother Rolf, he was sixteen and more like his mother in looks and personality. Sasha smiled to herself, her brother the winsome lad that had saved her life. She would have to think of something special to make him.

What do you think Jute? Sasha asked