The Pixy Queen

Story by Theromen

The Pixy Queen

“Dance in your rings again: The yellow weeds you used to ride so far, Mount as of old--

Play hide and seek with winds among the reeds,

And pay your scores again with fairy gold.”

-- The Wind Among The Reeds, Nora Chesson 1894

Chapter 1

The Green Fairy Opens the Door

Anna was a lovely girl with curly blonde tresses that fell over her shoulders like sunshine spilled over the soft contour of rolling hills. Her eyes were the clear blue vistas of the open heavens and were always seeking new things to be inspired or awed by.

Her parents knew she had a mischievous streak, but it wasn’t one borne of malice or the like but rather her love of exploration and her constant flights of fancy. She had sat appreciatively in the lap of her Gram and listened contentedly for hours on end to the most amazing stories. Stories Anna was sure were true, for her Gram never fibbed to her.

After her Gram had passed on she left many of her things to her son. Among them was her vast collection of books.

Anna loved to read thanks to her mother being a teacher of literature and her father being an author. Since there was no one else who had the time or inclination to tell her stories any more Anna would sequester herself in her father’s den and read her Gram’s books. One such day however something strange had happened. Anna hadn’t noticed until it had started to get dark and she heard her parents whispering just out in the hall beyond. She had stayed up late. She wasn’t used to doing so but it had happened before when she had become too engrossed in a particular tale. She would wait for her parents to go about their business and then sneak up to her room. But for some reason they didn’t go away they kept whispering excitedly about something, but of what Anna couldn’t be sure.

Anna watched from the corner of the darkened study where she usually sat for hours reading the books on her father’s shelf, many of which were fables and stories about faeries, elves and other mythical creatures. Anna loved the world of Middle Earth, and always dreamed of meeting the wee people and being a guest at one of the faerie courts, or serving tea to the royalty of the secretive folk of the forest in her own private little tea party. Anna was only six years old but she was intuitive, and very well versed in all things fae thanks to her fondness for reading, especially all of her father’s old books on the subject. The books were far older than her father was, a thing for which Anna was reminded often by her mother to be careful with them due to their age. Anna always was gentle with the volumes that were old though, because they were the most precious to her.

The old books were the ones that told of how the Doine Beaga and Daoine Sidhe, certainly not to be confused with Daone Sidhe, had descended from the Tuatha Dé Danann who had retreated to the realm of Middle Earth, and to the wondrous isle of Tír na nÓg in the west. They told the tales of Harpies, and Mermaids, Sylphs, Nereides, and even Zips. Anna had a head full of various mythologies and all of their amazing creatures both fearsome and fun. But what she took notice of in the den that evening was something unusual, especially in the house in which she lived.

Her sister Leah was out for the evening concerning some high school dance. Anna loved her big sister…she only wished she would play with her more. Since she had become sixteen though Anna’s sister was always going somewhere with her friends and was hardly ever home. Anna’s mother told her that it was because her sister was pretty, and was popular, but that she’d settle down when she got a bit older. Anna only knew that she missed her time spent with her sister. Time they used to spend playing make believe. The wondrous stories they would play at, the guests of their tea parties in the back yard, all tugged at Anna’s heart. But Leah seemed to have forsaken them, having walked into another world. A world Anna didn’t really understand and made her sad to think upon it. So instead she tried to be quiet and peek at what it was her parents were at in the den.

The den with its curio, antique, and book lined shelves looked like something out of a Sherlock Holmes movie. Anna loved the stories of the fabled master detective almost as much as the stories about the little people

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