After a few moments, Nick pulled his hands away from his face and opened his eyes. He couldn’t see, for the light had blinded him. He hoped that it was only temporary but he wasn‘t sure. There was ringing in his ears and it was intense. He pounded on the sides of his head to make the whining go away, to make his normal hearing come back but the only thing he got was a headache. Nothing was working. He rubbed his eyes hard, to make them see light again. Nothing. No light and no sound. He was deaf and blind. He wondered, but only for a moment, if the whole of twenty miles around had been privy to this thunderous din. Was his family okay? Were they lying stunned in their beds? Or worse… Were they dead? Did the people in the guest room hear it? Would they all be bursting through his door at any moment?
Spots and colors continued to dance in his brain in the seconds that followed. He tried again to force his vision to come back. He wanted to will it back, but it was no use. The fact was that it took only twenty seconds or so for his blurry vision to correct itself, but to Nick, it had felt like hour upon long hour as he lay spread eagle upon his bed. When the room finally came into focus again, Nick realized that one of the many “spots” was directly in front of him. And even more amazing was that it was calling him by name.
“Nich-co-las, my son. Are you quite all right? I’m really very sorry for such the dramatic entrance, but… Well… this is how I enter a house of your land from my world. I have quite forgotten, really, that your human eyes cannot take such a display of lights! I assure you, I will try to dim them from now on. You will be okay. Your eyes will be back to normal in short order. I promise you. I’m sorry about the blindness and such. You will be quite well soon though,” the voice chuckled.
“Who ever you are, I’m glad you’re getting such a kick out of this… I only wish I could see you so I could strangle you… What about my family? Are they okay?” Nick demanded.
“They are fine. They didn’t even hear my entrance,” The voice answered him.
Nick doubted it, but he had little time to think about that. The colors were beginning to collide together. The tiny specks of light were taking the shape of a man, a very small man. He was only the size of one of Mama’s Italian figurines. He floated down, looking the full size man in the eyes the whole while, his smile large and infectious. When he landed, he perched himself upon the wicker footboard of the bed, his intricate wings of dark green iridescent leaves gently flapping behind him to keep balance.
Nick sat up and leaned against the headboard, his mouth agape, staring at the creature before him, bewildered. He wiped at this eyes once or twice, sure that permanent damage had been done. Then he blinked several times just to be sure. This was a very handsome little being. No, handsome was not strong enough a word for what Nick beheld. This small man was spectacular!
He was dressed in a sort of full plate armor made of cut abalone shell so highly polished that it glistened with its many different colors. The light from the moon outside and the fire in the fireplace bounced from the many platelets, throwing an array of magnificent color dancing playfully away from his body. Sitting atop his head was a crown of jewels that contrasted his jet-black hair spectacularly. Each gem seemed to be made of the purest dewdrop that shimmered and sparkled against the blackness of his waist length braided hair. It was an astounding sight, much as the man himself. Seamrag had been woven into his braid, the white color of the flower lay in stark contrast against the coal-blackness of his silken hair. As the small man stood staring at Nick, he draped his braid over his shoulder to get it out of the way of his wings and it still hung to his waist!
Finding his voice and forgetting the splendor of the man, Nick spoke; “Who the hell are you?” Nick said with shock and outrage at the prospect that his family could have been hurt.
“Ay, yes,” Naodin chuckled “But I have lost my manners. I am sorry. It often happens in the spirit of the moment,” the little King said.
The faerie King clasped his right fist over his heart in a warriors salute and bowed slightly to Nicholas.
“I am Naodin Eglantine, King of the Forest Faeries, humble servant of The Lady Chenoa and The High King Ezra, rulers of the Kingdom of Comfortness on the Island of Discovery. I am here on orders from Lady Chenoa, bringing you a message of the utmost importance,” The little King bowed again.
“What do you mean ‘Lady Chenoa’? Now I know I’m dreaming. Oh, yea, of course. Now I’ve got it; you’re from the journal, aren’t you?” Nick said out loud, eyeing the little man suspiciously.
“Yea, you aren’t real, nothing Chenoa wrote about is real. It was just a sick woman’s dementia and now I‘m dreaming of the same thing. Man… I tell ya, I must be too tired to wake up or I’ve completely lost it!” Nick exclaimed aloud.
As he said Chenoa’s name, a great heartbreaking sense of loss crept into Nick’s voice. “God, I must be as crazy as the rest of the house seems to be these days… I’m even dreaming of little faeries because of Chenoa! Think of it, me, Nicholas Sydney Woodard, a college Professor, an archeologist. A nutcase, ready for the straight jacket.” He shook his head sadly.
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