Wings abuzz, another one of her small flock flits out of the perfect chaos of the flowerbed. This one has delicate white wings, and a tiny yellow face that seems to almost glow in the dawning light. She smiles as she flies past on some important fancy; and up the little earthen path I continue to wander.
I wonder, from what was that little fay thing born? I imagine her bed was a water lily, or a white rose perhaps. Every step I take up the small hill is careful, gentle even; there is no space in this haven that is not blanketed in blooming flora. Since she came, the flowers never seem to wither or die away. They simply glow, and offer sanctuary from the night to the strange folk who followed her here.
A lanky thing flits past my ear, and I can’t help but laugh as this fay stranger stumbles gracelessly through the air. Its skin is a pale brown, and it has the most beautiful purple hair. It is from a sundew, surely, I think to myself as I walk.
She’s waiting for me, back in the house. She doesn’t know it, of course; she’ll not wake up for an hour or so yet, but still I think she notices my absences. A jolly little fey, whose bed must be in a golden crest, with his little golden crown and white tasselled ears, stops on my shoulder. I slow, then still my ascent; I do believe this is as good a place to stop as any. I’m far enough up the hill.
From here, I can see the borders of our little home. I don’t like to look at it; at the dust and salt that stops just shy of our property, that blankets the rest of world across the horizon and beyond. But that’s why I come here every morning when I wake: to remind myself of what the world is when she isn’t nearby, to remind myself of who I was before she came. She’ll wake soon, I should get back to the house.
The garden is empty, and quiet. We grow what flowers we can, even in this unforgiving earth. The silence of the outside world is maddeningly loud, sometimes.
But still, this place is wonderland, filled with a fay beauty and tranquillity this world does not deserve, because she makes it so.