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Written by: Aryea
TITLE: Land of the Fienne
CHAPTER THREE
Nigel awoke in an instant feeling revitalized, but slightly confused. What had happened? Slowly the events of the day crept back to him and as he focused on the more unbelievable parts, he wondered if it had all been a dream. As he started to sit up he realized that he was laying in some kind of hammock and the shift in balance quickly ended him dumped unceremoniously onto the leaf-covered ground below. He stared up at the offensive thing, stunned. He shook his head and crawled to his feet, brushing away the few leaves that clung to his clothing. He paused in his task and noticed that something didn’t quite look right. His fingers seemed smaller that usual. Not only that, but his feet appeared to have shrunk as well. Frowning, his hands traveled down over his chest and stomach which were definitely rounder than he remembered, “No,” he whispered, shaking his head in denial. It couldn’t be! That would be too cruel! He spotted a clear blue pond nearby and hurried over to glance at his reflection. He screamed. “Nigel!” an unfamiliar, high-pitched voice called and he turned, aghast to see a little girl running towards him. She had waist-length hair the colour of deep chocolate, dark, almond shaped eyes with impossibly long eyelashes, and a pert, pretty pink mouth. She was wearing Sydney Fox’s clothes. “Nigel, it’s okay. Don’t be scared!” Nigel turned away and ran from her. How horrid! He couldn’t imagine a torture as terrible this. He ignored her calls and kept running, past the pond through a clover of trees and finally crawled into a giant hollow log. He curled up hoping she wouldn’t find him. “Nigel!” Sydney frowned. She had been a little shocked to wake up and find herself looking like she was nine years old again, but she quickly adjusted once Braennon explained the situation. She looked all around for Nigel and finally heard a sneeze from a large log just a few feet away from her. She walked over and crouched down to peer inside. It was dark in there and she couldn’t see him very well, just a small form huddled away from the light. “Nigel, come out.” “No.” “You’re being silly. Why did you run away?” “Go away, Sydney !” Sydney frowned and dropped to her knees as she started to climb inside. “Fine, I’ll come in then.” “No! Just leave me be!” She was startled by his hostility and could not understand it. When she had seen him standing by the pond she thought he looked absolutely adorable. She’d always tried to picture Nigel as a child, but she had not even been close in her suspicion. He was very small, even for a nine year old, with the tiniest face and hands; almost elf-like. His face revealed such innocence, even more so at such a young age, and yet when he had turned to face her he had looked horrified. “Nigel, what’s wrong?” “God, please, Sydney . Just go away!” She smiled; his voice was almost as high as hers. He must have welcomed puberty. It was shy and feather soft and held none of the deepness she was used to. “Why would I do that?” She settled just outside the opening of the log. “I know you’re shocked but it’s okay. Braennon explained it to me. Those mushrooms we ate? They were to make us young again. Only a child can enter this place, or the form of a child. That’s what Braennon meant by we had to experience things through their eyes and mind.” “Not like this,” Nigel whimpered as he pulled his knees up to his chest. “I can’t like this, Syd. Please, make her change me back. This can’t be happening. I don’t want to do this anymore!” “Nigel, we’re not really children, we just look like children. We still have all our knowledge and…” “But you’re still perfect!” Sydney blinked at his outburst. “What?” “You’re just as beautiful as a child as you are an adult.” Nigel sniffled and wiped his nose in his sleeve. “Didn’t you ever wonder why my brother called me Podge? I…I was…am…I just can’t be seen like this. Not by you.” Sydney’s jaw dropped. That was what had him so worked up, because at nine years old he still retained some of his baby fat? How shallow did he think she was? She knew that he had hated his old nickname, but she never realized how insecure he must have been about his weight. She pursed her lips and then stood up. With as much authority as she could muster in a nine-year-old’s voice she said. “Nigel, get out here. Now.” Nigel obeyed; his instincts and loyalty to her overrode his anxiety. Slowly, he crawled out of the log and stood up, refusing to meet her gaze. “Look at me, Nigel.” Nigel reluctantly lifted his gaze. Yep, there she was, looking like she had stepped out of a children’s beauty pageant. Perfect skin, thick shining hair and deep, soulful eyes. Okay, so she was a little flat-chested compared to the Sydney he was used to, but she was only nine. And then, Sydney smiled. Nigel’s eyebrows rose as he stared at the shining rows of metal in her mouth. “See, I’m not perfect.” Nigel stepped forward, curious. “You…you wore a brace as a child?” “Sure. I had horribly crooked teeth growing up. I got these when I was seven and wore them right up until I was ten.” Nigel had gone to boarding school with a fellow that wore the metal grips and witnessed the kind of teasing that came from it, especially by the few American children that went to the school. They always referred to the dental implement as braces, which were what the English called suspenders. Naturally, use of the expression got around and the British boys started calling poor Rodney Trouser Mouth. Nigel had been teased mercilessly as well, but he had always been grateful to have perfectly straight teeth. “I’m sorry.” Sydney giggled. “Why? They made my teeth straighter.” She tossed him a saucy look. “Being perfect isn’t as easy as you think, y’know.” Nigel smiled and felt some of his insecurity filter away. “I just…I hate myself this way.” “Why?” “You know why. I was an overweight child and remained so straight into my teenage years. Then I finally managed to start on a proper diet and exercise regime to rid myself of the lot.” Sydney moved over and tossed a skinny arm across Nigel’s shoulders, he was still shorter than her. “You’re not obese, Nigel. I think you look fine.” “Really? You’re not just saying that?” She patted his shoulder. “Nah, you’re still cute as a button.” She ignored his adorable flush and reached for his hand. “Come on. Braennon is waiting for us. We have work to do.” Nigel finally took better note of their surroundings as they headed back and he felt as if he had stepped into Peter Pan’s Neverland. Although it seemed as if they were in the same forest from before, everything here was greener, more colourful and brighter. It smelled sweet, like the air after a long rain and the scent of apple blossoms lingered from somewhere nearby. The sky was alight with a mist of tiny flowers freed from their trees by a gentle breeze and carried up and around them in a mystical dance of nature. The gentle sound of a babbling brook, the happy chirping of birds and the humming laughter from a multitude of different winged creatures playing in the flowing streams of sunlight teased Nigel’s ears. “Syd,” he breathed suddenly. “Is…is this real.” “I don’t know,” Sydney admitted. The beauty of this place had mesmerized her when she first awoke as well. “I sure hope so.” “ Sydney ! Nigel!” Braennon called to them from her perch, the lowest branch in the tallest oak tree that either human had ever set eyes upon. She had changed into a red and gold garment that sparkled in the sunlight. She pushed off from the branch and her wings moved ever so slowly as she floated to the ground, her bare feet almost, but not quite touching the ground as she hovered just above it. “Where are we, Braennon?” Nigel asked her, still trying to absorb it all. There was every manner of creature here, the likes of which he had never seen. A large two-headed bird dropped down beside him, bowed before Braennon who nodded serenely. The bird flapped off in a sudden burst of wind. “You are in the land of the Feinne, Nigel.” She smiled and started to move towards the pond that Nigel had been looking in earlier. “Do you like what you see?” “It’s wonderful, but is any of this real?” “All things are as real as you wish them to be.” Braennon dipped her tiny foot into the pond and a great rippling rose from the touch. It spread outward towards the center where it rose in a flourish of spray. Nigel stepped back startled and watched as the small waterfall slowed until the center was almost as smooth as a mirror, the edges still rippling from the water flow. “How did you do that?” Braennon just smiled at him and indicated her viewing tool. “This is what we wish you to find for us.” Sydney looked into the water mirror and saw a tiny tree the size of a Japanese Bonsai. It was nestled in the ground, surrounded by layers of rich earth and bordered with polished stones. “It looks like someone’s garden.” “It is not a garden but a natural place which is hidden from our eyes. We cannot find where the Singing Tree rests in our own lands, so then we have agreed it must be in your lands.” “A tree?” Nigel asked, warily. “We’re relic hunters not Botanists.” Sydney glared at him and turned back to Braennon. “Why do you need this tree? What’s so special about it?” “Our people were born from this tree. It holds the power of our creation and a healing gift for all things that exist beside us in nature. It was stolen long ago, by those loyal to a great lady of your realm. One day we awoke and it was gone, lifted from us without warning or remorse. We must find the tree and return in to its original place.” “How could your people have been born from this tiny thing?” Nigel inquired, curious. “It looks to be less than a foot tall.” “Size is irrelevant to the power nature can posses, Nigel,” Braennon explained kindly. “We have been searching for centuries to find this tree and finally, one of our scouts managed to procure a possibility of its location.” “Where would that be?” Nigel asked. Braennon waved her hand and the vision in the mirror changed to pull back from the tree and reveal the immense garden in full, along with a large, ancient castle with a familiar flag flying among the turrets. Nigel almost swallowed his tongue and Sydney was not far behind in her shock. “That’s where your tree is?” he croaked, his voice breaking slightly. Baennon nodded, uncertain what the trouble was. “We have tried to go, but there is much…” She paused and searched for the right word. “Resistance to our kind. We cannot penetrate this place.” Nigel shook his head. “No one can! Not even in our land, Braennon. It’s impossible.” “Why so?” Sydney finally found her voice and tried to explain the problem to their host. “Braennon, you said it was stolen long ago by those loyal to a great lady?” Braennon nodded. “The woman who lives here is someone of great power and notoriety.” Sydney pointed at the picture in the water-mirror. “That is her home and it is guarded by an entire army of people. The security is impossibly tight. We’d never get inside, let alone smuggle a tree out.” “Oh, but you must try! You are our only hope!” Nigel had a sudden feeling of being in a Star Wars movie. “We can’t! It’s impossible!” Braennon sighed and there was that horrible sadness in her voice again. “Then we are doomed to die.” “What?” Sydney and Nigel exclaimed, horrified. “We can no longer exist without the Singing Tree. There are too many outside influences from your world that now strike us down. There are fewer people who may see us, fewer places we may roam. Our world is closing in and we shall be trapped inside to fade away.” Nigel and Sydney exchanged a worried glance. Did that mean that the fairies could not longer exist in the face of disbelief and modern technology? Their world was crushing the fairy world and it seemed horribly wrong. Sydney stepped forward. “We’ll try our best.” Nigel gaped at her. Yes he felt badly for the Feinne, but Sydney and to be out of her mind to think they could succeed in this. “Syd!” Braennon fairly glowed as the water-mirror fell and became a gentle pond once more. “We will send with you aids for your quest and a scout will attend you as well to help you along the way.” She clapped her hands delighted. “I will have Myrine prepare you food and drink and you must rest before your journey.” Nigel watched the beautiful fairy fly off across the grass to start preparations. He turned to Sydney . “Syd, we can’t do this.” “We have to try, Nigel. Do you want them to die? Do you want all of this…” She spread her hands at the magnificence around them. “To disappear?” “It isn’t that I don’t feel bad for them, but really, Syd. I mean…I am not even convinced that this isn’t some kind of delusion brought on by exhaustion.” “It isn’t, Nigel. Could a delusion do this?” She pointed to their bodies. “No, but a nightmare could.” Nigel shook his head. “The point is that we are getting their hopes up. We will never get into…” “Have faith, Nigel.” “I have faith, I just don’t see…” Sydney grabbed his hand and moved towards a cropping of trees where a fluttering of fairies were busy setting out bowls of food for them. “Go with the flow Nige. Come on, I’m starving.” Nigel was helpless, but to follow.
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