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thirty-four

A Dream is a Wish

H eather detached her mother’s ribbon from across her torso and prepared to tether it to a branch. The moment she had dreamed about for years was suddenly upon her. She held her palm flush against the ancient trunk of the tree- she swore its life force thrummed under her touch.

“I’ve cherished this ribbon for most of my existence. I wouldn’t be able to part with it for anything less than my heart’s desire. With its presence, my mother was always with me.” She drew a deep, cleansing breath. Skye watched on as she continued, “My wish, should it be granted, is to be pixie.”

She moved to wrap the pink ribbon around the tree limb, but Skye placed his hand over her own, halting her. “Heather, I hope ye aren’t choosing this because of me… I love ye just the way ye are, my Moonbeam. I’m happy to be your wings, however long ye need me to be.”

Was it possible to be loved more than she was at this moment?

Skye showed her in countless ways, each day, how he deeply cared for her- it was in the small things between them.

His relentless pursuit of her. How he remembered she favored mint tea and took care that she ate.

How he made vows to her and kept his word.

She had no doubt that he loved her as a human and would continue to do so until he was dust.

“I will cherish your words for a lifetime. But I’m not making this decision in haste. I’ve considered it since I arrived in faerie. I want to be part of your world, Skye.” He nodded and drew back his hand, satisfied with her answer.

She wound the ribbon around the branch, secured it with a knot and whispered her wish again, her heart full of the intentions of her desire.

As she pulled it tight, the silk fabric lit with a white radiance that traveled down the length of it, setting it aglow.

The magick then drifted from the ribbon to the air, swirling around her in a misty iridescence.

Her feet lifted from the limb, the light rippling her form, hastening.

The silhouette of pixie moth wings formed between her shoulder blades.

They slowly solidified- the delicate forewing and hind wing taking shape, then the pattern within Luna moth wings presented.

Before Skye’s eyes, the wings took on their signature sage color, and Heather’s wish became flesh.

With a final bright flare, the bustling magick dissipated, lowering her feet down to the tree branch, but she fluttered her untried wings and remained suspended. Heather spun in the air, her ball gown swirling behind her.

“What do my wings look like, Skye?” She ran her hands over her newly pointed pixie ears, laughing. As she spoke, her lips and tongue brushed against her new extended eye teeth. They would take some getting used to, she thought.

Skye joined her hand with his, the motion sending both of them tumbling with the force of his exuberance.

They twirled in the evening sky. Heather set the pace and led him flying through the canopy of the great tree.

She was buoyant. She dashed through the dense collection of many colored ribbons swaying.

“Wager you can’t catch me!” She laughed over her shoulder.

She burst forth playfully with renewed zest, not wanting him to overtake her too quickly.

She lofted over and under branches, and through the colorful curtain of ribbon wishes.

With her sharper faerie vision she could see further into the gloom.

The moon’s rays were now as bright as lanterns.

The light became her sole focus. She found herself momentarily led astray, following the bright radiance of the moon up through the boughs of the tree.

She had to know what was at the end of its beam.

“Heather!” she heard Skye from somewhere behind her.

His voice shook her from the siren’s call of the moon’s illumination.

“I think ye caught the moth’s urge to be drawn by light,” he laughed.

She stopped short of advancing up the moonbeam and fluttered in place, his words freeing her from the hold the light held over her.

“It’s as if you’ve broken free from a cocoon. Younglings who’ve emerged from metamorphosis experience an intense draw to luminescence, but it wanes over time.” He explained. He flew to her side. “Yer pupils are blown.”

She twirled in a circle, her sole focus, now her twinkling skirts. She was captivated by the shimmer of her own gown and the light it reflected. She held her dust covered hand in the shine of the moonbeam as she had done earlier at the fete, gasping.

To human eyes, Skye’s sage, sparkly dust was magnificent.

But through her pixie vision…the dust sparkled as if they were tiny diamonds.

Everything was magnified a hundred times over.

Her eyes moved from her skin to her gown.

She twirled in a circle, enamored all over again by the garment.

She laughed as carefree as a child and then shifted her gaze to Skye.

The male had her in awe at first sight, and now her pixie eyes cast in him in beautiful severity. The colors of him were resplendent. His jaw looked as though it could slice glass. And she could perceive the aura of his glow, continuously shining with her advanced vision.

She fluttered over to him, placed her hands on either side of his face, and locked her lips to his. The contact was searing. A jolt shook her to her core. Breaking the kiss, she gazed up at him, then laughed boisterously.

“Now I’ve gone and marked you!” she exclaimed.

On his lips were smudges, as if rosy lip paint had transferred from her lips to his. It glowed in the shadowed dark. Falling from her fluttering wings like rain, her magick had manifested a pale blush, the same shade as her beloved ribbon.

“Let’s fly!” She pulled him along by the hand, lost in her excitement.

She zipped past ribbons, leaves and through branches until she cleared the tree altogether and made her way back to the pond where the Flower Moon was celebrated.

She straightened, steadying herself in place as her eyes widened at the sight of the super moon. Her jaw dropped.

No wonder the Luna pixies were in such awe of it. She wanted to bathe in its pinkish moon glow. She felt untethered, almost feral. If she flew straight on til morning, could she reach it? She readied her wings, but just as she was about to make the attempt, Skye caught hold of her wrist.

“Not so fast, the moon’s light has bewitched ye… now ye know why I call ye my Moonbeam.” He flashed her a grin.

Skye fluttered above the silver pink water. Leaning over to see his reflection on its surface. Once he spotted the faerie mark she left on his lips, he shook with laughter.

“Aye, ye marked me good and well, Moonbeam. One I’m thrilled to wear. I’m proud to be yours.” He chuckled. He held onto her elbows, facing her. His forehead met her own, and they stared into each another’s eyes, whirling aloft. Here, over the water, the music was vibrant.

“Join me in another dance.” He placed his hand gallantly over his heart, then held it out in offering.

They embraced, spinning in the dark. Pink and green pixie sparkles swirling.

The gemstone hues reminding her of the glowing light piercing the Sarsen sky.

Heather’s grasp tightened on Skye’s, pulling him to a halt.

A thought hit her like lightning. With trembling fingers, she ran over the smooth pearls looped around her neck.

She peered down at the shining magick within the opal gem.

“I have an idea . . . do you think we could extend this celebration to Sarsen?