Fiana

August 17, 2010
Fiana strides through a quiet wood, embroidered golden purse in hand. Walks, slowly, steadily, toward a most secret and untouched place. She would go to her palace and stay there for a long while. But first, she would visit some very special friends. Princess Fiana… come to dance wih the fairies. Sweet songs guide her to the kingdom of enchantment. She is sure of where she will go. Soft, sweet voices reassure her when she stumbles. She will make her way there. She holds the key. She feels with her heart, not her feet, covered with lavendar satin and sewn with small, delicate pearls. She steps with care, as there are fairies everywhere, she knows. They care for all, even the smallest of leaves, twigs, timy water droplets and fireflies that light the path of small, carefree, smiling children fillled with wonder.


Fiana stops to spin in a circle. A voice whispers in her ear. “Dance with us, dear, the fairy dance.” She does. She stays with them and talks to them. “Things are not going at all well in the country across the sea,”they tell her, “ his majesty is old and on his deathbed, and the young prince will soon take the throne. For having been raised in a palace, he knows less about how to govern his people than a minnow does about living on land. His people worry.”





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