To Lighten a Heart

Vivi, a light fairy, is the prisoner to a traveling merchant until a Ruffle the gnome offers to free her under one condition.

To Lighten a Heart was original submitted to Clean Fiction Magazine as part of their Windows into the Multiverse story contest. The premise is that using the above photo, to write a micro-story of 1,500 words or less beginning with “Through the window I saw.” Although it was not selected, I have two friends whose stories which I helped edit were selected. I encourage you to check out their tales from Clean Fiction Magazine. 

I want to acknowledge Ximena Lindsey, Lynnea Mileusnich, and Jennifer Burrows for their critiques and edits on this story, along with the other members of Charis, our authors group

To Lighten a Heart

Through the window I saw even more deplorable cultivation. Humans ceaselessly formed straight lines to dominate the earth. They had bred all intelligence out of these once beautiful tulips. In their hubris, they were attempting to harness the wind like it was a pitiful mule. 

Leonard tugged on the reins of his carriage to drive his merchant cart up to the windmill.

The horses caught my glare and snickered. Soon they would have their harness loosened and be left to graze. I would still be trapped nearly six feet off the ground in this tiny glass cage.

They stopped at the tugging of the reins, and the lantern I was in swung wildly. I pulled my thin transparent wings to myself, tumbling about. Leonard grabbed my prison to still its swaying as he hopped off.

 “Thank you, my little light fairy. Without you, I’d still be a lowly farmer like Gerald over there.” Leonard tipped his hat toward the farmer with complete courtesy.

“You’re not welcome, you stupid human! If it weren’t for you, my people and I would still be free! I hope you break your leg, catch the plague, and have to wander the desert naked.” There was a pinch of freedom in knowing the merchant couldn’t understand the chirps and chitters of my language.

My wings trembled with rage as Leonard walked away to strike another business deal. I had no interest in watching their game of subtle manipulation.

I looked down at the flowers below me. They were all as dumb as clouds. Silent as the stones. I slumped to the bottom of the lantern. My heart yearned to hear the songs of the wild rhododendrons.

“Those were some harsh words for such a pretty lady.” A garbled accented voice chirped. The horses stomped in concern.

My fingers smoothed the glowing petals of my dress. “Who’s there?”

“Look down. I don’t got wings like you.”

I pressed my body against the cold glass of the lantern, searching among the flowers. Perhaps there was one among these that could actually speak. It was unheard of in these parts, but maybe this field held a miracle.

Then I noticed a little white tuft between the rows. “A gnome? Since when did gnomes speak the language of fairies?”

“Well, that’s hardly courteous. Yes, I speak many tongues. I travel. Name’s Ruffle.” The twelve-inch, bearded man leaned back to peer at me with his hands on his hips. His beard and hair looked like two triangles pointed up and down around his rosy face.

“I’m Vivi. It’s a pleasure to meet you?” 

Ruffle barked out a laugh and slapped his knee. “You’re darn right it is. Now, why don’t we work on getting you outta that there cage.”

My wings fluttered in excitement, carrying me to the top of the cage. “Oh! Yes! Yes! Thank you.”

“One condition.” Ruffle reached through his beard and pulled out two pickaxes. He swung them into the side of the wagon and repelled himself upward. “You gotta help Gerald’s little girl.”

“You want me to help a human?” He was crazy. I shouldn’t have been as surprised as I was. All gnomes had a tendency toward madness. “How could I possibly help? Her father will cage me and use me as a light source just like Leonard.”

Ruffle paused his ascent and glanced at me. “This climbing isn’t easy. Am I saving you or not?”

“What do I have to do?” I forced my wings to obey and landed on the bottom of the lantern. My wings slumped. I might just have preferred imprisonment over whatever this little man had planned.

“Gerald lost his wife, and his girl is practically in the grave with her.” Ruffle continued scaling the wagon as if it were a mountain. “Flick your wings, and lighten her heart.”

I fiddled with the corner of my wing. “Children are unpredictable. You never know if they’ll treat you with shy curiosity, squeeze you in excitement, or swat you like a bug. What you’re asking is dangerous.”

He scoffed. “You oughta know better than most, little Vivi: Life is dangerous. Doesn’t matter if you try to hide in private groves. If you don’t face your fears, you’ll always be a prisoner.”

“My glade wasn’t a prison. I could leave whenever I wanted.” This man. He should know better than to mess with a fairy. I am far more magical. I could easily blind his dark beady eyes.

“Your glade wasn’t the problem. Your fear was. You could have left whenever you wanted, but you didn’t. What’s the point in me freeing you, if you’re going to keep living in fear?” 

Ruffle heaved recklessly upward against the hardy wood, about two-thirds of the way to me now. All he used were his two pickaxes. If his grip slipped, he didn’t have wings to catch him. He would die. But his smile couldn’t be brighter– which said a lot coming from a light fairy.

“So are you gonna lighten her heart?” Ruffle paused, his chest huffing.

“I’ll do my best.” I gave a soft smile and held my wings to myself. This girl would probably harm me, but I would be free. Ruffle was right. The lantern wasn’t the problem. My own fear was. But no longer.

“Good. Duck.”

“Excuse me?” My wings started fluttering about in nervousness, carrying me in a zig-zag around the lantern. The blasted things didn’t know when to be still.

“Get. Down.” Ruffle let go of one of the picks and twirled a metal nut in a sling above his head.

In fear, my wings sent me bumping against the top of the cage.

“People typically duck the other way!” With a grunt, Ruffle flicked out the chunk of metal at the center of the glass pane. 

The glass split. 

The bottom of the lantern shattered against the packed dirt. Startled, the horses thrust the carriage forward.

Ruffle lost his balance. 

His hand slipped to the end of the pick he held and, as he reached for it, the other clattered to the ground. “Ope.”

In a flurry of panicked chitters, I swooped, grabbing Ruffle by the top of his white triangle of hair. He yodled in pain as we fell slowly to the earth. Still tumbling, we crashed into the base of some nearby flowers.

A petal plopped onto Ruffle’s head and he swatted at it like the humans do at flies. I fluttered in a circle around him giggling. My heart was full of light again, both from freedom and watching Ruffle’s antics. He grumbled something probably undignified in Gnomish as he straightened his point of hair and dusted himself off. 

“Yeah, yeah.” His lips turned down in a frown, but his eyes sparkled.

“To the girl?” I flew to the top of the flowers and peeked around. 

“Yup, she lives in the windmill.” He put four thick fingers in his mouth and let out a whistle that would impress the loudest of humans. 

A chubby mole poked its nose out of the ground, sniffed, then slid under Ruffle’s legs. In a blink, they were racing through the rows of pink. 

My body’s glow flickered in surprise, and I dashed after. But if this girl was as heartbroken as Ruffle had said, I was going to need to be full. Hopefully these dumb flowers would have enough true life left in them. I dove into bulb after bulb, covering myself with pollen and lapping up nectar. By the time I got to the window, I was uncomfortably bloated.

“You’re flying awfully low.” Ruffle’s eyes slowly scanned me, and he chuckled. “Try to eat the entire field did you? This way.” He pushed on a small wooden board, revealing a mouse hole. 

The young girl sat on a rocking chair, holding a blanket in a hug. Something about the blanket seemed familiar. It had been blessed before by another fairy, although who or when, I had no idea. Her eyes were closed as she sang a sad lullaby. 

“Give me a boost.” My chitters were disturbingly deep.

“As you wish.” Ruffle squatted behind me, gripped my waist, and tossed me up toward the girl’s lap. 

My wings helped me land on the girl’s arm. She slowly opened her eyes, tears falling. 

I gasped as one of the salty globes splashed on my head.

“Sorry, are you alright?” The girl’s voice was nectar sweet and her eyes held both curiosity and true concern.

An astonished grin formed on my lips. She wasn’t going to hurt me. I closed my eyes and leapt into the air. Like a nightingale, I sang and danced the song of joy and life, sprinkling my magic into her heart. When all the pollen was spent, I landed again on the girl’s lap. 

Her bright smile was my reward. 

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