A Gentle Breeze

Then breathe my sisters, through the trees, let us sing the songs of life.

~ Mirri Sihee

Thursday, May 7, 2009

Aerrvin felt her energy as soon as she arrived outside the store. He and his cousin were carrying boxes inside. Oh, now this girl likes me. A lot. She looks pretty sweet herself. The upsized Fairy couldn’t help wanting to catch her attention with magic. Flipping Somersaults, what can I do? He had his personal scent which some found attractive, of course, but he didn’t have time to waft it towards her. Before he could do anything, she turned and boarded the bus.

He knew a Human could not see Fairy Light, but his vanity caused him to flash his Purple and Golden Brilliance to the world when he felt her emotions brushing against his soul.

Aside from those two mystical means for garnering attention, Aerrvin considered that the only other course of action was just that—action. Chancing boldness, he found her gaze as the bus pulled away. Her thoughts were intense, and Aerrvin couldn’t help but offer his most practiced smirk.

After the bus pulled away, Aerrvin asked Gareth, “Did you see her? She’s The One.”

Gareth, wearing his black hair in a quasi-bun, stopped to stare at his golden-haired cousin. The two looked identical, apart from hair color, and strangely enough, the pair had been born on the same day. Much like twins, they were close to inseparable. And again, like many twins, their personalities were quite different.

With eyebrows raised, and his Irish accent not yet moderated to American, Gareth asked, “Why the rush? We have yet to spend two nights in the city!”

“Then I must assume that you did not see her,” Aerrvin replied. “Her stunning looks rival Athena’s. But more than that, the Aeries love her. Right, I know the Aeries do not reveal themselves to you. But trust me, the Wind Sprites danced around her like a sweet flower in the meadow, even pulling at her hair. Of a truth, she cast one aside!”

Busily unpacking boxes, their companion, Jaera, rolled her eyes. Unable to hold her tongue, she said, “Crikey, Aerrvin, you must have imagined it. We all know a Human can no more control a Wind Sprite than they can sprout wings and fly. You canna’ marry the first Human ta strike your fancy. Marriage is serious business.”

With a shake of her head, Jaera strode away to shelve the newly unpacked items.

Very well, I will bide my time and allow things to play out as they will, Aerrvin thought.

Aerrvin beckoned Mirri Sihee with a wriggling come hither motion of his hand. Few are blessed to see Aeries, but the young Fairy Prince happened to be one such blesséd soul. Once the Wind Sprite was close enough for him to whisper to, he said, “Ask those Sprites why they like that girl so much.”

Then raising his voice as Mirri flew away he called, “And learn her name—and where she lives!”

May 8, 2009

“Hey, Aerrvin, that girl you like is outside,” Gareth called. “Why do you think she is The One?” He raised his hands gracefully for dramatic effect. Aerrvin joined Gareth at the window.

“Magic,” Aerrvin replied in his rich Irish accent.

“Oh, no ’tis not fair, nor allowed,” Gareth said. “Compulsion is strictly forbidden. Is that not right, Jaera?”

“Sure as my hair is red, but I doubt he used Compulsion. Did you?” With decided poise, Jaera balanced on the topmost step of a ladder, hanging chimes on hooks attached to the ceiling. She faced Aerrvin with her impish lips pursed—awaiting his reply.

“No, of course not. I am high-born and well-schooled. I used an old spell learned from my great-grandfather before he Faded, great is his memory; it makes me aware of someone when they think about me. I can even feel the emotions they emit. Quite useful among, say—friends and enemies.” Aerrvin paused to glower at Jaera. He held no real grudge against her, but as younglings, Jaera often tried to get Aerrvin in trouble with their teachers.

“It usually only works on those in whom I have an interest, be they friend or foe, and they must be within twenty spans or so.”

“Limited, but useful,” Gareth said. “Will you teach me?”

“Later. Mirri says her name is Mara, and right now I sense this sweet Mara thinking pleasant thoughts about me.”

The golden-haired Fairy smiled. Mara’s thoughts were a touch stronger than pleasant, and Aerrvin liked the passion and hunger she projected. He picked up a wind chime and went outside to hang it on the new post installed for that very purpose. Above the post, a bronze plaque advertised the name and nature of the store.

In truth, Aerrvin could not say why he found her attention any more compelling than the girls he met at the club the night before, or the girl staring at him from the curb. The sandy-haired girl on the curb willed him to look at her. Yet she didn’t garner his attention. She wants me, and is miffed that I won’t look at her, he thought. This dark-haired beauty has emotions bouncing all over the place. A kind of sorrow echoed deeply, beyond his ken. She’s a puzzle I feel compelled to solve. Suddenly Aerrvin felt a secondary stab of malice and despair aimed at him, but it was so swift and brief he could not pinpoint who projected it.

****

“The Craftsman’s Majick. Perfect! Precisely what we need!” Mara exclaimed, raising the uninterested heads of her traveling companions for a moment. Mara rarely spoke directly to her fellow commuters, so it didn’t surprise her watchers that those nearby merely glanced or nodded at her and went back to their own pursuits.

In silence for a change, she wondered, does my angelic Mr. Sunshine work here or is he just a delivery guy? Then to her surprise and delight, he walked out and looked sidelong at her with a secretive smile gracing his face. He proceeded to hang a wooden wind chime on a hook. A sudden puff of air blew his golden locks up off his collar and danced through the pipes, causing the chimes to sound: sweet and mellow.

“Beautiful,” Mara marveled as the bus arrived.

A fresh scented sea breeze wafted towards her. With reluctance, Mara boarded and took her customary seat halfway back. Closing her eyes, she almost saw an afterimage of a tiny form dancing among the chimes. In her mind’s eye, she saw the breeze lifting the angelic store clerk’s hair up off his collar. Firmly shaking her head to dispel the fantastical imagery, she exhaled a musical swoon.

“Now, why didn’t I take a picture?!” Mara whispered on the crowded bus. “Oh, I’ve got it! My final project will be about the effects of wind in the city. I’m glad I only have two classes today. I can’t wait to begin!”

Her seatmate nodded absently. She’d sat with Mara before.

****

Mara captured simple images: the flag extended by the breeze, students brushing hair out of their eyes, a seagull hovering in place on a warm current of air. She went to the docks to get the wind on the water. The blustery afternoon offered spectacular shots of sails puffed out and quintessential white caps. In a parking lot, she managed to spy a particularly artful arrangement of windswept trash flung up against a chain link fence.

“Edgy—definitely edgy,” she mused in satisfaction. In time, her wandering brought her back to her side of town where she once again stood in front of The Craftsman’s Majick.

“Are you going in or not?” Mara questioned herself. “Yes, of course, I am,” she answered.

Inside, the musty laundromat appeared to have undergone a magical transformation. Bright swaths of jewel-toned silk billowing down the walls offered a cheery effect. Mara felt like she had won a prize as she walked from row to row. With delight, she found photography supplies. Not many craft stores carried them, so with abandon, the photography student selected several things needed to restock her darkroom and even some she did not. Precariously balancing her items, she got in line to make her purchase. Looking ahead for Mr. Sunshine, her countenance fell.

“So he doesn’t work the counter, after all,” she whispered.

As she waited, she watched a tiny red-haired teen straightening the shelves. At the register, an efficient woman with sandy brown hair and warm eyes turned her attention towards Mara.

“My! What an armful,” remarked the cashier. Her nametag read, “Button.”

Unable to stop herself, Mara blurted, “Your name is Button?”

“Why yes it is, and a finer name I’ve never had.”

Someone behind Mara sniggered. Blushing, Mara pulled out her debit card and completed her transaction in silence. On her way out the door she muttered, “Mm, that didn’t go so well.”

“What didn’t go so well?” asked a decidedly smooth voice.

Feeling the humiliation crawl up her neck, Mara turned back. There he stood next to the wooden wind chimes; the wind once again fluttered Mr. Sunshine’s hair as the soft melody sounded: vibrant and clear.

With a catch of her breath, she stammered, “Oh, ah—I—I think I offended your boss.”

“My boss?” he asked with a single raised brow.

“Yes. I’ve never heard of anyone named Button before,” Mara replied, gaining composure.

“Never you mind. Button is an old family. . .” he twisted his lips in thought before continuing with, “friend. And a sweeter lady you will never meet.”

With a nod at her full arms, Aerrvin offered, “Would you like help with your packages? I do believe I am going your way.”

“You are? Sure, I guess I did go overboard. I got so excited when I saw all the supplies I needed. I couldn’t help myself.” Mara handed over the larger of the two bags, shifted her backpack to a more comfortable position, and headed up the block. As they crossed the street in silence, Mara felt his gaze on her from time to time.

“I am somewhat afraid to tell you my name—since you go about offending people with unusual appellations . . .” he began.

Mara interjected, “Oh, no! Whatever name, my name is Mara, Mara Jamis.”

“. . . and I am Aerrvin ap Rosewin,” he finished with a half turn, and extinguishing the impulse to bow, he flourished his free hand—without her notice. Watching to see her reaction he waited, both eyebrows raised, and a near-smile tickling his lips.

“Ah, yes, I’ve never heard that one before, but it suits you. You’ve got a slight accent. Where are you from?”

“My friends and I moved here from Ireland some time back. We have a place on the peninsula, but I wanted to try my hand as a businessman; so I opened the craft store. I am excited to see how it goes.”

In shame, she covered her face with one hand; Mara did not think she could be more embarrassed. The store belongs to him!

“Sooo, Button works for you?” Mara cringed, not hearing his reply.

After turning up the sidewalk to her house, instead of fumbling for her key Mara rang the bell for Jill to open the door. Projecting calm, she turned to face Aerrvin, still sporting that slight smile on his charming face. His eyes pierced her soul. He nodded with the fluid grace of a martial artist bowing to his master and then handed Mara her bag. Her heart thundered.

As he turned away, he called back, “I’ll see you tonight.”

Jill opened the door and gushed, “Oh, sweet! You met the new guy down the street. Isn’t he ca—ute?”

Still mortified, Mara moaned, “He’s coming to the party?”

****

Jill made a big production out of her parties. Her friends across the street were often invited to set up their mondo bulky speakers on the patio. The young neighborhood never complained about noise.

As a sous chef with intentions of opening her own catering business, Jill’s food never failed to delight and amaze. The only thing she allowed Mara to help with was decorating.

“I found inspiration at the craft store, Jill, I hope you don’t mind. I’m hanging these gauzy curtains all around the gazebo. I want to get a few creative shots of the wind catching the curtains.”

“No problem, kid. Do you want Dougie to bring his colored lights to shine on them?” Jill asked, rubbing dough from her fingers into the sink.

“Sure, that would be awesome.”

At 6:00 p.m. and satisfied with her work, Mara made her way into the kitchen. The gazebo already had white Christmas lights spiraling up the columns and around the perimeter of the scrollwork below the roof. Mara’s Great Aunt Lily had kept a stunning flower garden, and often hosted tea parties with her niece and grandnieces. As a result, Mara held fond memories of the gazebo and ensured that she kept the yard up to Aunt Lily’s standards.

The yard was small, but lovely considering they were right in the middle of the ever-growing Seattle-Tacoma-Bellevue megalopolis. Spring in Seattle is not the best time for outdoor parties with a significant amount of success. Rain might fall at any given moment, but it had been sunny, and the temperature remained pleasant at seventy-one degrees.

The covered patio and the two oversized French doors connected the outdoors with the dining hall. The dining hall stood empty because Mara had sold the antique dining set to pay for that year’s tuition. Overall the place was large enough to host thirty or so of their closest neighbors and friends, which Jill would do every week had Mara not put her foot down: two parties a month maximum.

“Okay, I’d better get cleaned up,” Mara said. “How about you, Jill, are you done making all your goodies?”

“Almost, one last batch of mini quiches and then I’m done. Don’t use up all the hot water!” Jill called out as Mara ran past to avoid the sponge in Jill’s upraised hand.

Each reveled in using up as much hot water as they could stand; it was the one real contention between them, but even then they rarely ever ran out.

****

“And what is the dress standard for one of these “block” parties?” Aerrvin asked. The look of skepticism was not lost on Bronwyn as the two of them surveyed the contents of the prince’s closet.

“Begging your pardon, Your Highness, it is not as though you are attending Princess Victoria’s birthday party,” Bronwyn replied. His nose, aimed at the ceiling, twitched. “It has been sixty years since our last excursion among Humans, and I am sorry to say, party clothes have gone downhill. You will wear no formal clothing tonight; simple jeans and a silk shirt for appearance’s sake. This will have to do.” Bronwyn cut short his opinion with a sniff and retrieved an outfit from the closet.

“Ah well, these jeans are not as comfortable as silk, but they do tend to grow on a body.” Aerrvin’s voice became muffled as he pulled on a gray muscle shirt to wear beneath his midnight blue shirt.

“Thank me little ’uns for that. Each night they wash ’em and wear ’em to soften ’em up. Next time have me wife Button make your jeans, rather than buying or acquiring them elsewise; then they will be perfect from the start!”

Aerrvin nodded in near sober agreement at his most trusted adviser. Both knew he might obey, but more than likely he would not.

“Now then, we are all set. Jaera, you look lovely as usual. What kind of shirt is that, Gareth?” Aerrvin scrutinized his cousin.

“It’s flannel! Everyone wears it.” He grinned. Then opening it up he proclaimed, “I even got the perfect t-shirt to go with it.” Sporting a smug grin, he revealed a swamp green T-shirt with the Space Needle on it.

Aerrvin’s eyebrows rose, touching the fabric he said, “Yes, it looks like flannel, but it’s so thin and not made of wool. Very well then. Are you sure you do not want to come along, Bronwyn?”

“Oh, no. ’Tis quite all right with me. I’ll stay home with Button and me lassies and reminisce about the time I did go to Princess Victoria’s birthday party; you were mere babes then. Besides, I need young Seamus here to go and learn the trade. As I age, I will have a need to pass on the quill.”

Bronwyn’s middle child, Seamus, had been born one month after the prince. The two had grown up together and quite enjoyed each other’s company.

“Now then, if you would shrink him to his proper five inches, and make him transparent so as not to cause the Humans alarm, Your Highness.”

Bronwyn nodded as his invisible, shimmering son climbed to sit upon Aerrvin’s shoulder using a hank of his hair to keep from sliding off.

Humans cannot see the shimmer unless their eyes are touched with magic. Brownies are rarely seen, even without an invisibility spell, because they are so adept at camouflage. They live in almost every home ever built. Truth be told, they would offer so much help if only people knew of their existence. Their primary task is to keep pests at bay, rats and Goblins being their foremost enemies.

“Seamus, you might need to braid a shank to make a more secure hold for yerself.”

“Aye, Father.” His fingers seemed to fly as he wove an intricate braid with the hair from behind Aerrvin’s left ear. He finished by tying it up with a strand of gold thread.

With the ever-present Wind Sprite blowing his golden hair, Aerrvin and his companions set out to attend their first block party.