Amsonia
Legacy Name: Amsonia

An Adventure

The luminous stalks of the mushroom forest glowed purple and blue, their caps ranging in size from the eyeball of a mouse to the wide expanse of a giant’s dinner plate.

Amsonia sat up carefully, her tongue uncurling in a yawn. There was no bed more comfortable than the cap of a mushroom tree. Her favorite was a thick blue growth she could ascend with a careful leap. The familiar pattern of her claws in the surface allowed her to quickly gain her balance. The center was worn down just right, pillowing her body in all the right places.

She shook out her thick fur and stepped down to the forest floor. The sweet smell of baking chocolate reached her nostrils. She rumbled her approval as she went to check on the batch of cupcakes she’d placed in her stone oven just before her nap. The sun reflected off the central heat stone on the oven’s face, cooking its contents perfectly.

She used a claw to pull the batch out. They would cool quickly in the shadow of a mushroom tree, giving her time to select decorations. She kept them in a hollow mushroom that had lost its glow. It was the perfect storage cabinet, its innards carved into shelves. Her neighbors, the wandering gnomes of Gnomen, kept her supplies from ever running low. Gnomes can never get enough mushrooms to satisfy their craving for mushroom chowder. They were always willing to trade a brick of chocolate or basket of edible flowers in exchange for a few tender mushrooms.

The yellow blossoms had a slightly nutty flavor, a perfect complement to rich chocolate. She picked up the basket with great care, hooking a pot of honey frosting with a free claw. Her stomach rumbled in anticipation as she made her way back.

A rustle in the undergrowth alerted her to the presence of another creature in her kitchen. She paused, looking out from behind a purple stalk at the intruder helping herself to a cupcake. The faerie was very young, her wings too immature for flight.

Amsonia had seen faeries before, patrolling the skies of Fantasaya in their endless quest to protect the creatures within the borders of the greatest nature sanctuary ever known. They rarely took the time to speak to ground creatures.

The faerie child leapt to her feet at the sight of the giant green bear. “Please don’t eat me!”

Amsonia wrinkled her nose at the thought. “I’m not going to eat you, though I am short one cupcake.”

The faerie looked at her chocolate-smeared hands, tears forming in her eyes. “I didn’t mean to steal. I was just so hungry and they smelled so good. At home right now they’ll be feasting on star fruit and lunar lettuce.” Her tears began to fall, bringing tiny pink flowers to life with each impact. “I’m afraid I’ll never see my home again. The Patrol won’t return this way for weeks and there are so many creatures that do eat faeries.”

“What’s your name, faerie child?”

“My mother named me Saya, after the haven all grown faeries take an oath to protect.”

“Hmm. They say helping a faerie brings good fortune. I’ll need all the luck I can get to keep the shroom worms at bay this year. Besides, I know the forest trails around here pretty well.”

Amsonia stiffened as small arms wrapped around her neck. “Oh, thank you!”

“First we’ll need to gather a few provisions.” She gently shoved the child back, pointing with her nose to the cupcake tray. “Why don’t you see to decorating those while I get us a basket to carry them in?”

Grumsy, the best basket weaver in Gnomen, lived at the edge of the gnome realm. He also tended his little garden and kept an eye out for weary travelers. Gnomes love gossip and will always share a bite of seed cake for the latest news from other parts of Fantasaya.

"Good morning to you, Amsonia. I've just picked the most delightful batch of blue rosebuds and I know how much you love to pair them with your vanilla cupcakes."

"I'll take all you have and one of your travel baskets, Grumsy. I also have a favor to ask."

Grumsy's black eyes widened as she presented him with a cowspot mushroom. The black and white rarity was even more delectable than the richest truffle. "You have only to name it, my friend."

"I'll be away for a few weeks. There is no gardener I trust more to tend the velvet plants and keep the shroom worms from devouring the healthy stalks."

Grumsy could not take his eyes off the cowspot. "I will care for them as if they were sprouted by my own hand." He accepted the mushroom with a little hop of joy, hurrying away to hide it before another gnome could spot such a treasure. He returned a moment later with the basket.

The young faerie was glad to be helpful and volunteered to carry the small basket as Amsonia put together a more substantial load of her own.

*****

They came to the edge of the mushroom forest just as the sun was setting. The path curved around thick evergreen trees that dropped sticky wads of sap with every breath of wind. Saya bit her fist to contain a giggle when a pine cone landed on Amsonia’s head.

The stars were appearing when Amsonia halted at the edge of a brook. An ancient willow trailed its feathery branches in the water, forming a canopy over a lush patch of grass.

“We’ll rest here tonight. Most of the night creatures around here are harmless but I won’t take any chances.”

Saya curled up between Amsonia’s front paws, her golden curls fanning out as she closed her eyes and placed her head on Amsonia’s chest. The faerie could not sleep. Every distant cry and tiny rustle was some terrible beast that had caught her scent. Amsonia had no such fears. Her great snores had the willow sprites above stuffing their ears with dandelion fluff pinched from the nest of a squirrel.

Saya sat up with a yelp, rubbing her scalp as a low chuckle sounded from above. Amsonia sat up as the child cried out again, clapping her hands over her curls. Her tormentor was flattened beneath a massive paw when he tried for a third pass.

“Let me go, let me go!” His voice was shrill as he tried to squirm free, his eyes reflecting the light of the moon. Amsonia’s lip curled back as she recognized him as a night wisp. More mischievous than their leprechaun cousins, night wisps had a strange fascination not with real gold, but with golden hair. They liked to steal strands and tie them around the black forks of their beards. They were also known to target children out of sheer spite.

Holding him with one paw, she used the other to flick him across the stream. He would use his control over the wind to cushion his fall or he would get a mud bath. She really didn’t care either way, as long as he didn’t come back.

*****

They finished the cupcakes by the end of the second day. Saya proved very good at spotting edible plants from Amsonia’s back. Each fine was added to the rest of their stock. Saya also had a lovely singing voice that would bring small creatures to the edge of the path to listen.

The young faerie could never have enough games to play. Her absolute favorite was I Spy.

"Again, Amsonia! Do another!"

Amsonia rolled her eyes. "Do you ever take naps, faerie child?"

"Why would I waste the beauty of a day sleeping? Come on Amsonia, another!"

"Oh very well. I spy a big green shape that is about to curl up and take a very lovely nap of her own."

"Amsonia!"

Saya could not convince her friend to take another step. She ran around the meadow while Amsonia slept, gathering the very best wildflowers and weaving them into a crown. Amsonia woke with a sneeze that sent the crown flying from her head to burst apart against a distant tree trunk. Saya laughed in her musical voice while Amsonia had another good eye roll.

The trees gave way to short, springy tufts of grass as they approached Gray Gorge. Two enormous stone ledges were bridged only by a single log bridge, one that was blackened with age. Saya’s grip on Amsonia’s fur tightened at the sight of the long drop. The river below was a narrow strip of blue bordered by jagged stones aligned like rows of teeth.

Amsonia could smell Saya’s fear. She could also smell a new odor, a sharp tang that stung her nose. It reminded her of meat just beginning to rot in the sun and she didn’t like it.”

“The edge of Faerie Realm isn’t far now. You’ll be with your family by the end of the day.”

“Would you like me to sing the flower song, Amsonia? It would add some cheer to this dreary place.”

“Best to save your voice until we get across.” Amsonia took a careful step, testing the strength of the log. It shuddered and creaked but accepted her weight. She had to take care not to cut her pads on the many small branches in her path. She was also careful of weak spots that threatened to snare her leg in a painful splinter trap.

They were about halfway across when the wind changed direction. She swung her head around with a snarl as a sinuous shape rose into the air. The wyvern was old, his scales nearly transparent with age. He could not hope to catch an able-bodied faerie and one can grow very tired of living on fish alone.

Amsonia rose to her full height, warning the creature back with a swipe of her claws. The wyvern’s acidic blood spattered her shoulder, causing them both to roar in pain. He came to hover just out of her range, considering her with narrowed red eyes as Saya clung desperately to her back.

“Give me the faerie snack and I’ll let you leave without a fight. You can’t hope to win against me, weak earth walker that you are. I will rip you apart piece by piece.”

“Go back to the earth yourself, worm. Your kind belongs in the dirt. I can’t believe anyone could be foolish enough to mistake you for a dragon.”

As she spoke she began to slowly back away. He followed her every move, letting her get nearly to the far edge before plunging forward.

She fought with cunning, using her bulk to give the wyvern a good swat along the jaw and leaning away from the blood that fell. He was just too fast. His teeth were in her leg, his claws shredding her ear. She kept Saya huddled beneath the soft fur of her belly, ready to protect the faerie child at the cost of her life as she was overwhelmed at last.

Saya screamed in a language she could not understand. She heard the sound of horns, looking up to see a fair-haired faerie on the back of a magnificent green dragon. The dragon swatted the wyvern from the sky with a snarl of contempt. Amsonia closed her eyes as Saya got to her feet to raise a cheer.

*****

There is no creature that can rival the healing arts of faeries. Within a day Amsonia’s injuries were on the mend, her exhaustion soon cured by the sweet water of the Stream of Life.

Saya saw to it that she had a new cupcake to try with every meal. Faerie singers wrote songs about the great green bear that would always be a faerie friend. Saya’s mother, rider of the mighty Greenscale, saw to the construction of a fantastic riding basket. Greenscale, who adored little Saya, agreed to carry the basket to the distant mushroom forest.

Saya rode with her friend one last time, placing a tiny flower in the hair above Amsonia’s ear as the great bear tolerated one more hug. As she settled down on a bed of velvet leaves for a well-deserved nap, Amsonia made a silent vow never to remove the precious flower.

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