Information

Fiorabelle
Legacy Name: Fiorabelle

The Custom Sweetheart Jollin
Owner: Diadem

Age: 12 years, 1 month, 2 days

Born: February 18th, 2014

Adopted: 12 years, 1 month, 2 days ago

Adopted: February 18th, 2014

Statistics

• Level: 1
   
• Strength: 10
   
• Defense: 10
   
• Speed: 10
   
• Health: 10
   
• HP: 10/10
   
• Intelligence: 0
   
• Books Read: 0
• Food Eaten: 0
• Job: Unemployed

Deep in the woods there is a meadow of yellow-gold flowers that bloom all year round. One night a year, during the spring equinox, you may be lucky enough to see two tiny pinpoints of light. You’ll likely mistake them for fireflies at first, but upon closer inspection – that is, if they let you closer – you will see perfectly sculpted human features aglow with fairy dust.

These fairies are quite gleeful, and you might even be lucky enough to talk to the smaller one – she is a beautiful little thing, with delicate toes and flushed cheeks. If you make her smile, she might even tell you her name. If you make her laugh, she might even tell you her story.

---

The road was long and dim. The old woman arrived at the ramshackle home with nothing but a sack full of barleycorn. Her bargain was simple: one nights’ stay, meal included, in exchange for the sack of barleycorn. The peasant had been hesitant but his wife welcomed her with a smile.

When they rose the next morning she had gone; but, as promised, she had left the barleycorn. The peasant’s wife looked out of her window and in either direction, but there were no footsteps on the footpath. She picked up the barleycorn and turned away from the window. Her shadow was long on the wood floor.

She planted the barleycorn seeds in her garden. The next morning, she saw through the window a massive flower growing where she had planted the seed. She made her way to the flower, determined to prove to herself that her imagination had gotten the best of her. But when she bent and cupped the flower in her hand, a tiny girl came tumbling out of its petals. With trembling lips, she brought the girl up to her eye and examined her. She seemed to be snoozing peacefully in the palm of the woman’s hand, her body soft and naked. The woman, more or less in a state of shock, hurried back into the house out of the cold.

She did not show the tiny girl to her husband. She knew that her husband feared witchcraft and would do away with her. She sewed a tiny outfit for her, gave her a box to live in, and named her Bella. Once upon a time, she had given birth to a stillborn of the same name. She had always longed for a daughter.

---

The box was suffocating. Nightly the tiny girl saw massive insects crawling by. She would often call for help but the woman kept her in a drawer where the man couldn’t hear her. Her terror was immeasurable.

One night, the old woman left her box out by the sewing kit – and the window – by accident. The tiny girl knew it was an accident but she was terrified nonetheless. The wind prodded her with icy fingers and her shivering wouldn’t stop. When the squat, green monster hopped into the box with her she muffled a scream. It croaked, “Get on my back.”

There was nowhere else to go – the sides of the box were too high for her to climb – and she saw no other option, so she got on his slimy back. The woman would be so upset at how soiled her dress was getting. Below her, the toad grumbled, “You’ll make a perfect wife for my son.”

She was horrified. Marry a toad! What a preposterous idea. When it hopped out of the window, making massive bounds towards the woods, she called out for help desperately.

Above, a creature in the air answered her call. It swooped down and enveloped her in many rows of legs, buffeting the air around her with opalescent wings. “I’ve got you, darling.” Its legs around her were gentle but secure, and the cool night air whipped at her face.

“Where are we going?” she asked it.

“Where do you want to go?”

She could think of nowhere in particular. Not back to the house, with the woman who kept her locked away (even if it was for her own protection), and definitely not back with the terrible toad. So she said, “Take me anywhere.”

The butterfly was gentle when she set her down in a wooded grove. The grass was soft and the sun was bright and she was very tired so she thanked the creature and she slept. When she woke it was bright again – she thought that she must have slept through the day and the night and then some – and she spent the next days and weeks getting acquainted with the grove.

She loved it there. She built herself a little bow and arrow out of twigs and leaves to defend herself against the big spiders that prowled at night. She carved out a little shelter underground where she slept peacefully. All in all, it was a lovely place to be.

Then it started getting cold. Her light clothes made of dried leaves were no defense against the wind and the white, freezing substance that coated the ground. She had gasped the first day when she went to lay in the beautiful stuff and found that her feet had turned blue! She sought the help of the old field mouse whose den she knew was close by, and he gave her shelter in his much warmer burrow in the base of a tree.

She lived with him for quite a while and enjoyed hot cricket soup on the coldest nights. She had no qualms with him; he was a nice little mouse and he knit her sweaters that kept her tiny limbs warm. Together, they went out and found wounded creatures and nursed them back to health – notably, a beautiful young bluejay whom she formed a very close bond with.

One night, he suggested that she marry their neighbor, the mole.

“The mole?”

“Well, yes. He’s quite in love with you, you see.”

“But he lives underground! I could not spend my life with such a creature. You know I love the daylight.”

“He’s lovely if you get to know him.”

The mouse persisted in his suggestion and brought it up many nights of the week, so one day she whistled for the bluejay and asked him to carry her away. Her stay with the mouse had come to an end.

The bluejay agreed with the tiny girl, for her was quite in love with her too, and whisked her away with naught but the cozy little sweater on her back. She rested her chin on his feathers and held on tightly, the night wind buffeting them to and fro.

“Where are we going, Bella?”

“Wherever you want.”

The bluejay took her far and wide, all over the world, and together they saw many sights. She slept nestled in his wings and they were warm. They visited different places and went where the wind took them. They had quite a nice life together for quite a long time, the little girl and the bluejay.

One night, the bluejay said, “Shall we settle down somewhere?”

She patted his head. “I think so.”It took them many months to find the perfect place, but one spring day the bluejay spotted a beautiful meadow of yellow-gold flowers and knew she would love it. He landed in the middle of it and watched her climb the stems of the flowers and smell them. He knew she loved it, and he was happy.

One night, he heard a rustling above their nest. They both looked up to see a tiny being, just the size of Bella herself, flittering about with glowing wings from flower to flower with a handful of pollen. He flew down and landed on a branch near them. Curiously, he said, “Hello.”

Bella sprang up, brushing the wrinkles out of her sweater, and stammered, “Hello.”

The bluejay could recognize love when he saw it.

They were married a month later, under the full moon, with many winged fairies watching. He granted her a pair of wings and held her hand and together they traveled from flower to flower.

The bluejay stayed long enough for their wedding, and told her good-bye affectionately when it was over.

She said, “Don’t go! I love you, my dear.”

“Yes, but not the way I love you, darling.”He nuzzled her and she clutched his wings and begged him not to go. He left anyway, stirring the air as he took flight, and she watched with tears on her cheeks as he disappeared in the moonlight. In her hand she held a single blue feather. She contemplated flying after him but her wings were tired and she knew she would never catch him.

She beaded a necklace, put the feather in the middle, and wore it around her neck. And though she was quite happy going from flower to flower in the beautiful meadow with the beautiful flower prince, she never forgot her bluejay.

ART

by morighost @ tumblr

by apomix @ tumblr

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