Calla Lily

September 20, 2012
By zomgAyaXD. BRONZE, San Jose, California
zomgAyaXD. BRONZE, San Jose, California
2 articles 0 photos 1 comment

Favorite Quote:
"A WORD is dead, When it is said, Some say.

I say it just, Begins to live, That day." Emily Dickinson.

It was a cold spring day. Calla Lily’s surrounded the stream that passed through the meadows. Bees would come and go as they liked. It was her favorite secret place, no one else knew of it, and even if they did, no one came. It was her sanctuary. She snacked on the snuck-out honey she found in the cupboard that morning and after licking her fingers she went to go wash them in the stream. The water’s color was a bit unusually, the blue and calm was turquoise and rushing, slowly turning back. That was day she was pulled down, deep into the water. A hand grabbed and held onto her leg and dragged her passed the large apple tree, down the stream till it hit the lake and down, down she went into the darkness. Water usurped the air in her lungs. She struggled to breath, the pain in her chest and head grew. Crimson red tainted the dark blue and she felt a sharp pain on her neck. Everything turned black and calm. There were no more feelings, no sensations, nothing.
Her Guardian stumbled out of his hidden in branch on the tree. His eyes where curious; he thought, I had my eyes on her, where did she go? The Summer King will surely kill me, if I let her disappear. He dropped out of tree in a rushed and clumsy way, luckily managing to still land on his feet and became visible to the world. Invisibility had its benefits and shortcomings. In exchange for becoming invisible and intangible to the world, the user couldn’t see color and touch things when the world either. He felt the absence of her essence; she was gone leaving only small globs if green essence left behind. The Faerie King wanted to keep her safe and untainted as long as possible, she was his heir. The guardian inspected the area. Her shoes where still lying right next to her picnic cloth, as was the honey jar and her paints and brushes. Her trail ending next to the river and then mysteriously disappeared. It was only after he touched the water, that he felt the darkness. Siren? Kelpie? He couldn’t quiet put a name on this creature, and so he followed the deep darkness trail left in the water. The guardian came to the lake only to find her wrecked body lying afloat being ripped apart by a wretched creature with a scaly face and twisted eyes and no nose. It was ugly making the grotesque scene far worse. The girls neck was almost gone, a chunk of her shoulder pulled out and the creature screeching what sounded like a laugh. Her soul was gone.
The guardian didn’t hesitate; dived into the creature, wrestling and twisting and twirling in the water. He had no fear; he knew if he died by the Summer Kings hand, he would be tortured for centuries, if not millenniums before he could slumber in peace. Finally the guardian pushed him into the air and bound the sea-creature with a piece of iron. No fey could last against iron. The guardian then spoke in the languages of the water and asked where the creature kept her soul; did he sell it to the underworld demons? Was he planning to feast upon it? After more jabs the in the stomach several times with an iron dagger, the creature confessed the still pure soul was deep down, in the water giant clam. He was to form it into the most perfect pearl for the vicious, cruel queen fey of the waters. He could do whatever with the left over body. With that, the guardian twisted the creature neck. A loud THUNK echoed over the now quiet waters. The guardian speedily found all her blood, skin, hair, and bones from the waters, the creature insides, the nearby rocks and put her back together. He then placed her in a glass casket and then dived deep down to find her soul.
The guardian swam down until there was no more light and entered the realm of darkness. Piles of clams were everywhere, blue clams, yellow clams, red clams, but none more brighter than the huge white one, its light outshining the others. Soon, if left alone, it would slowly turn the darkest of the blacks. The bottom had already become undistinguishable from the black seafloor. The guardian gently opened the clam to find her white soul complete and safe except for its heart; the edges of her heart were tainted black. He then swam up with it and placed the soul into her body. He then carried her back to her “sanctuary” and left her to asleep and repainting her fingers with honey and saliva. Then he breathed into her mouth, blowing life into her and disappeared into air.
She woke up, warmth filling her lips and slowly spreading everywhere. She thought she had already washed her hand, but they still had honey on them. Perhaps it was a dream, she thought. She then got up and walked to clean her hands and as she placed her hands in the water, she felt a pair of eyes burning her back. She twirled around, finding nothing, but her eyes lingered on the tree before turning back to the water.

The author's comments:
Exploring the theme of resurrection in a magical world. the story was originally for my English mythology class, but I enjoyed writing it and is my first article published on Teen Ink. I hope you enjoy! :D

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