Enchanted Summer

by Samantha Rose

  “Pixies and sylphs?” Ariadne only gave them a passing glance. “Oh, no. It’s like if I asked you if your neighborhood cats could report on someone misbehaving.”

  “Really?” Nate stared at her. “Do you mean they have the intelligence of a domestic animal?”

  “Oh, no,” Ariadne laughed, flicking her wrist. “Comparing their intelligence to those of the animals would be offensive to the latter.”

  Nate chuckled. “You’re basically trying to say they have no brains.”

  Ariadne giggled, her laugh mingling with those of the fairies. “Well, I haven’t exactly checked that, but look at them there, laughing themselves sick over nothing. They always act like that. Nixies are the same—laugh and play all day, that’s their way of life. They basically have two types of emotions: happiness and fear. They’re like insects that look like tiny fairies. We guard our kingdom against them, or they’ll come and wreak havoc on our houses. But here, in the woods, they’re mostly harmless. They can lead you astray or play a trick on you, but as the Forest itself is safe, they don’t have the ability to hurt you. But imagine what chaos those little pesky creatures could cause in a world like yours, if left on their own.”

  “Hmm, I never would have thought of that,” Nate admitted. “They do look innocent. And I would even have called them intelligent.”

  “Oh, really?” Ariadne chuckled.

  “So, dryads are the only ones who can … transform to be the size of a human?”

  “Not all dryads,” Ariadne gave him a side-glance. “Only the more powerful ones.”

  He raised an eyebrow. He’d already figured that Ariadne was a more powerful dryad, but by how much? He wasn’t sure she wanted to talk about it, so he changed the subject again.

  “And elves are the size of humans, I suppose.”

  “A little higher,” she said, looking at her feet. “But not much. Let’s not talk about the elves, all right? They irritate me. Unless they are dark elves, but I’m not in the mood to discuss them, either.”

  “Oh?” Nate chuckled. “Okay.”

  They turned left and kept walking, crystals tinkling underneath their feet, an occasional pixie peeking out of the bush. Ariadne was definitely leading him somewhere.

  “You’ve mentioned there’s a kingdom,” he said, almost making her startle. “Does it mean there’s a king or a queen?”

  She didn’t look up as she replied, “Yes; there’s both a king and a queen. I would love to show it to you, but we won’t go there. That would be just asking for trouble.”

  Nate couldn’t argue with that.

  “I’m just curious,” he said, “do they live in a castle or something like that?”

  “Yes; it’s called the Rainbow Castle. It’s built over the waterfall, on a Rainbow River, that flows through the kingdom. And yes, if you’re wondering, there are rainbows everywhere. It’s a fairy kingdom—what else would you expect? The castle itself is beautiful. There are lots of rooms decorated with crystals. Halls that have panoramic windows—just like in Hanna’s house, but much bigger. And fountains, and glass floors, and—”

  “You sound like you’ve been there,” Nate pointed out.

  Ariadne stilled. She clutched her hands, and her wings fluttered. Nate was already familiar with the movement, but he couldn’t tell what it meant at the moment.

  “Yes, I … am a part of the court,” she said quietly.

  “Oh?” he said. “Really? So you’re … a noble?” He chuckled, then rubbed the back of his neck. “I should have figured as much from your clothing, and your powers. You clearly come from an upper-class family. Do you have a title? Should I address you by it?”

  “Oh, no, no!” Ariadne waved her hand agitatedly, he cheeks flushed. “Please. No titles, and let’s not even talk about this anymore. We … are from different worlds. My social standing means nothing in your world. I don’t want you to— Let’s just forget about it!”

  “Okay,” Nate agreed. He watched with curiosity as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, not daring to look in his direction. It was like she was embarrassed about something. Or scared.

  Noble, huh? How could that be? How could just a regular guy like him draw the attention of a titled fairy? He could never understand that.

  And she lived in a tree hollow before he offered her a room in his house. She, who was used to living in a castle. What drove her to even come to his world? She mentioned she was curious about humans and their way of life, but how curious could you be to spend a few weeks sleeping on the dirt and dry leaves, shivering from cold, only to observe humans from afar. There clearly should have been a stronger motivation. A memory of her mentioning something about having to follow strict rules popped into his head. Maybe the life in the Forest wasn’t as enchanted as it looked to the outsider.

  Ariadne touched Nate’s shoulder, distracting him from his musings. He shivered and looked up.

  “We’ve come.” She smiled, then stepped to the side. “Does it look familiar?”

  Nate took a step forward and gasped. It did look familiar—and it also didn’t.

  The Crystal Lake they’d come across in the woods sprawled before him in all its beauty. It was just as he’d remembered it but looked more real and complete with an iridescent waterfall gushing over crystals on the other side and a stream flowing into it.

  Ariadne walked with him to sit by the shore, watching nixies playing in the water. Nate could never get over the fact that the lake’s bottom was made of a solid piece of carved-out crystal that glowed, spilling the light all over the clearing. Water lilies floated peacefully on the surface, their porcelain-like petals illuminated from below. Their leaves served as trampolines to the nixies, who sprang in and out of the water, trying to catch at the twinkle lights.

  “What are those?” Nate reached out and brushed one of the soaring lights with his fingers. It was warm and fuzzy to the touch, although seemed to be made entirely out of light. “They seem alive.”

  “Fairy lights,” Ariadne said, watching one float right before her eyes. “They’re essentially particles of magic that had developed some sort of mind of their own. They’re totally harmless but don’t like fairies who try to catch them. I can’t blame them.” She pushed one with her finger. “They mostly serve as floating lanterns in the Forest. Think of them as …”—she tapped her lip—“jellyfish. Just floating around the place. But they don’t eat, and they can’t sting you.”

  Nate watched them rise up into the air. They really did remind him of jellyfish a bit.

  “How do you know about jellyfish?” he asked Ariadne. “Are there any in the Forest?”

  “No.” She cut a glance at him. “But I do read books, and I’ve been to the seaside more than once. You don’t think me so uneducated, do you?”

  “No, of course, not!” he stammered. “I’m sorry.”

  Even the fish there seemed to have scales made of crystals. He couldn’t imagine what they ate, and if they ate at all. Some of the inhabitants of the forest looked natural and artificial all at the same time.

  “How does the water flow out of the lake?” he asked. “It seems to have no way out of here with the bottom being so solid.”

  “There’s an underwater cave or two,” Ariadne said. “You can’t see it from up here. It leads to a network of underwater rivers and lakes. Some can be accessed from the underground. And the water in them has magical properties to it.”

  Nate’s eyes sparkled as he pressed a knuckle to his lips. “An underwater cave made of solid crystal, and glowing? It must be unbelievably beautiful down there. Can you go in there?”

  “Dryads don’t like getting their wings wet,” Ariadne said. “But I guess a human like you could enter it.” She smiled. “I didn’t know you were into cave diving.”

  “I wasn’t.” Nate chuckled. “Until about a minute ago.”

  He fell back on the grass that was as soft as fur and watched the stars twinkling in the inky sky. With all that illumination, he could sti
ll see them clearly. Although he couldn’t make out any of the constellations. He guessed that was something he should have expected—after all, they were in another world.

  Ariadne asked him to wait a bit and disappeared somewhere in the bushes growing not too far from the lake. For a few moments, the only sounds he could hear were splashes and giggles of nixies as they played in the water and the occasional buzz of bejeweled dragonflies hovering above him.

  Then she came back.

  “Here,” Ariadne said, offering him a handful of raspberries. “I thought you might want a little snack. Although it’s not much. There aren’t many edible plants growing on this side of the Forest.”

  “And what if you eat an inedible one?” Nate asked. “Could you get poisoned by it?”

  “Don’t be silly,” Ariadne laughed, then sat down across from him. “To be honest, I don’t know. This side of the Forest isn’t for berry-picking. Dryads rarely come here—that’s one of the reasons why I love it so much. But I guess the Forest would warn you in its own way against picking inedible plants, just like it wouldn’t let you harm the flowers or even the pixies.”

  “You make it sound like pixies are the last on its list of concerns.” Nate chuckled, then tasted a berry. It was perfectly ripe and sweet. So different from the ones he could buy at the store in his world. He could only guess what Ariadne thought of those store-bought berries he brought her.

  “They should be.” The dryad glared at the tiny creatures playing in the lake. “Useless little things.”

  “Oh, come on,” he laughed. “They add a certain charm to the place. And I’m sure they have their own purpose.”

  “Everything here has its purpose,” Ariadne agreed, munching on another raspberry.

  A movement to his left drew Nate’s attention, and he did a double-take as he spotted someone walking into the clearing.

  Someone who looked exactly like a human. In fact, he could swear it was a human. A little girl wearing a white dress. She moved slowly and looked around, mesmerized.

  “Ariadne …” he whispered, then leaned closer to the dryad, nodding slightly in the direction of the girl. “There’s another human in here.”

  Ariadne gave the girl a quick glance but seemed to be not affected at all by what she saw.

  “Well, they come here often,” she said. “The lake is one of the largest sources of magic, so they are especially drawn to it.”

  “What do you mean?” Nate nearly chocked on a raspberry. “I thought you said humans were forbidden from entering the Forest. Is she an elf? Are there any humans in your world?”

  Ariadne closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. Nate wondered if he said something stupid, or if maybe she didn’t want to have this conversation in the first place.

  Finally, she opened her eyes again.

  “No, this is not an elf,” she said. “And there are no humans in our world. But this girl”—she cast her eyes on her—“she’s not like you. Not fully there. She’s a soul.”

  “What?” Nate’s eyes grew wide. “You mean, she’s … dead? A ghost?”

  She did look somewhat like a ghost, he had to admit, in all this white and flowy clothing—and with no shoes on. But she looked … solid. Although her eyes … it really did seem like she was not fully there. As her glance passed over the flowers and the butterflies, it seemed unfocused, as if she couldn’t exactly see her surroundings—despite being in awe of it all.

  Ariadne shook her head, dropping her gaze.

  “No, she’s alive. But her physical body is not in this world. She’s either sleeping, or daydreaming, or doing something else—I don’t know. And while she does that, her soul wanders through the Forest.”

  Nate stared at her. “So … she sees it in a dream? Is it like— I don’t get it.” He raked a hand through his hair.

  Ariadne didn’t reply right away. As if she were trying to decide if she wanted to answer at all. Finally, she resigned.

  “Human souls come to the Forest to heal. That’s the sole purpose of this place. They don’t see it, and they can’t remember they’ve been here. It’s not easy to access the Forest, but once the soul is here, it begins to heal. There are lots of souls wandering through the Forest at any time of day or night. We, dryads, only have to take care of the place, make sure the healing magic flows freely, and everything works smoothly.”

  Nate blinked at her in astonishment. “But can you interact with those … souls?”

  “It is strictly forbidden. Why do you think I told you it was forbidden for us to make any contact with humans? Not many dryads go to explore the other worlds. But all of us see human souls almost on a daily basis here, in the Forest.”

  “But if you wanted to … could you … interact with them in any way?”

  Ariadne dropped her gaze. “Yes. A dryad can heal a soul, using their powers, much faster than the Forest magic alone. Some souls take years to heal. Decades. And you never know when their access would be cut off. They may come here only once, get a tiny sliver of relief, and never return.”

  Nate looked at the little girl once again. She didn’t move far from the place she’d been in a few minutes ago.

  “But they’re hurting,” he said. “All of them. Right? That’s why they come to the Forest?”

  Ariadne nodded. “Yes. Though we can’t know for what reason. It could be anything. I wish I could say those who need it the most enter the Forest, but that’s not true. Many of those who suffer greatly can’t find a way here no matter what they do.”

  “But what if some of them could remember what they saw? Is that … Is that even possible?”

  Ariadne took another deep breath and looked up at the fairy lights swirling above her head.

  “Well,” she said. “I’ve come across a girl once. She was a teenager, I suppose. She came to the Forest for a few years. I saw her grow. Saw her hairstyle change. But there was something different about her. She didn’t look absentminded, like the other souls. She actually watched the pixies, picked up crystals from the ground and studied their shape and color. She even—once or twice—saw me. Looked me right in the eyes. Listened to a conversation I had with … my tutor one day. At first, I was a little scared. I thought something must be wrong. Then I remembered one thing.” She smiled to herself. “I think some people—those who have magic in their blood, as I’d told you the other day—can actually see the Forest while they’re in it, or remember it afterward. This girl even managed to lead two of her friends here. I saw them all talking and laughing together. She showed them around, but I doubt they remembered anything. I guess that girl is an artist, or a writer, or something like that back in her reality. Some creative people may have abilities like that. Though sometimes it backfires at them.”

  Nate stared at her in wonder. “So this girl is from … my world? Have you ever come across the other souls like that?”

  Ariadne shook her head. “No; I don’t think she’s from your world. As I’ve said, there are many similar worlds. And, no, I …” She looked aside. “I haven’t come across anyone like that afterward. That girl doesn’t come here anymore. But it made me wonder …”

  “Wonder what?”

  She shook her head again, clearly not wanting to continue this conversation.

  Nate’s eyes traveled back to the girl.

  “So young …” he whispered. “And she’s already hurting enough to need a place like that to heal. Why is there so much pain in the world? In … every world.” He looked down at his hands. “It kind of makes you … reevaluate your own life and problems. Be grateful for what you have. I have no idea what she goes through, but at least I’m an adult, and I’m free, and I have the ability to take my own life under control. Be content and happy with what I have—not wish for more. You never know what others might be going through.”

  “It is a sad place,” Ariadne said, “as much as it is an enchanting one.” She flicked her eyes to him. “You’ve been here before, you know?”

  He
caught her gaze. “What do you mean?”

  Her eyes gleamed. “I’ve seen you here. Many years ago. When you were little.”

  Nate blinked at her, all the other thoughts gone from his head. “What?”

  A slight smile appeared on Ariadne’s lips.

  “I was a child myself back then. We were walking through the forest when I heard someone playing the piano. I rushed ahead to look, and there you were.”

  “Me? Playing the piano in the Forest? How’s it possible?”

  “Well, I didn’t know it was you back then, of course. But now that I’ve known you for a while, I’m certain it was you.”

  “But how could there be a musical instrument in the middle of the Enchanted Forest? Is there one?”

  “No! Of course, there wasn’t any. That’s what surprised me the most! I even asked my tutor, and she said some humans give a part of their soul to the things they love the most.”

  Nate dropped his eyes. “How old do you think I was?”

  “I don’t know. Six or seven, maybe. But it was … so incredible. I’ve never heard someone play like that.”

  “Well”—he chuckled—“thanks. I guess it was not that happy back then. I played the piano whenever I could—whenever they couldn’t see or hear me.”

  “No, no; it’s not what I wanted to say.”

  He looked up again. “What do you mean?”

  Ariadne considered before answering.

  “You were not … like the rest of them. Not like … the regular souls visiting the Forest.” She motioned to the girl.

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Your music … and the way you played … Even the pixies were attracted to it. They clang to the piano like bees to honey.”

  “Oh, even the pixies?” Nate laughed. “I guess you were happy they weren’t buzzing around and being annoying.”

  “No, no.” She shook her head, serious. “That’s not what I’m trying to say at all. Your music— You didn’t come to the Forest to heal; to take away from the magic. You came here to add to it.”