For those of you who read part one yesterday, here’s the ending to my quick short story. Without further ado, here it is below the cut.
Listen Closely to the Whispering (cont.)
By Eleanor Musgrove
A month I spent below the ground, growing larger and stronger, my light radiating more powerfully with each rise of the sun and moon. More fairies were born, a few adults passed by, intent on delivering their own children and short of time to explain anything to the rest of us, and some of the youngsters I’d made friends with left without a word, one at a time. We could only think that they had gone upwards, to meet with their families. Fairies do not worry, as a rule; we leave that to the rabbits. Fortunately, we also live charmed lives, so that doesn’t tend to be a problem.
One day, just before sundown, when I was just beginning to wonder if I would still fit through the tunnels, I heard a voice just behind me, slightly to my right.
“It’s your time to rise, little light. Follow the earth up.” I spun round, hoping to catch sight of whoever was whispering to me, but there was nobody there, only the dirt walls of the tunnel. “This way,” the voice sounded again, this time to my left and behind me again. What could I do but follow the mysterious whisperer? I had my mother’s approval, after all, and I couldn’t stay below ground forever.
The soft sound led me up and up, through twisting earthen passages and to the mouth of a hole that led right up to the sky.
“Here I leave you, fairy child. Fly up, and send the sky my love.”
“But who are you? Come out so I can thank you, please.” For a moment, there was no sound, and then a long, sinuous body emerged from one of the tunnel walls.
“I’m only Winder, a humble worm. We all do our part to get you above ground, for the fairies care for us all.”
“How do you know the way? Worms are blind, are you not?”
“You don’t have to see to know your way. Sometimes you need only listen.”
All at once, I knew my name.
“Thank you, Winder. My name is Bluebell. Perhaps, when I’m above ground, I can ring some flowers for you all to hear.”
“That would be very thoughtful of you. Now, you’d best be off. Shine bright, Bluebell.” He wriggled his way back into the dirt, barely leaving a trace in the wall of the tunnel, and I watched him go.
Then I unfolded my wings for the first time, fixed my eyes on the faint trace of a star in the evening sky, and rose into the dusk to begin my life.
Well, there you go – I hope you liked it, and I’ll be back with another blog post of some sort tomorrow. In the meantime, feel free to let me know what you think in the comments.