Amphitrion: Threnody

Saturday, July 18, 2009

Threnody

We learn of death. We try to mark the pain
Of hearts left freshly marred by the cruelest trick.
The dirge is sung with hopes for hurt to wane.
But oh, what choir sings for unburned wicks-
For life unlived. No less absent the flame;
No colder flesh unkissed, never tantric.
Unheard the thought, unspoken to explain
What is not lost but unknown? Pathetic.

Sing the threnody for those not interred.
Let music quell the numb souls screaming loud.
There will be no tears for a life deferred
And beauty will scoff the ugly proud
Who share their precious, lovely world. Absurd,
This need to finish time amid the crowd.
Whistle, soft fife, their time is not preferred
To the now absent hope of those enshroud

Trista, the Barn Fairy

High in the rafters of barns or the tops of very old forest trees some fairies make their homes. Now, to suggest that there is only kind of fairy would be a silly as suggesting there is only one kind of human, but certain fairies, which the old legends name as Fauna Stars concern themselves mainly with nature and animals.
Tristra was such a fairy. She was no larger than a sparrow. She was older than any person you may know, but still young for a fairy. She shimmered like the glitter of gold dust and had wings of delicate lace peaked up to either side of her lovely face. Her clothes were made from flower petals stitched with silk threads. She saw to the lush growth of the countryside and the health of the animals of the farm just as her mother and others of her kind had done far beyond the reckoning of any human mind.
Trista loved the farm where she made her home. Although fairies generally have no interest in mankind and often go to great lengths to escape their notice, she liked the sweet old couple that toiled away to care for the small cottage and barn. She liked especially the dear young servant girl the couple hired to care for the animals. Her name was Beatrix and she was a strong young lass with ruddy cheeks and rosebud lips. She loved animals nearly as much as Trista. Beatrix toted the heavy pails of feed and swept the barn and always wore a smile. In the evening she would stoke the mane of Clovis the mare whose foal was coming soon. Despite the folly of the thought, Trista wondered if Beatrix could hear the thoughts of the beasts as she could.
One day, as a gentle summer was coming to a close, Trista quickly hid as the farmer and his wife made their way into the barn. The couple was whispering but the hearing of fairy folk is quite keen and Trista had no trouble perceiving what was said.
“Oh, Percival," the affectionate voice of the wife began, "You do not see her as a servant any more than do I. When I see her sweet face, I now see the child that we were never blessed with."
"You know my heart well," The husband replied with a nod, "it is agreed then, this night we will ask the child to move into the farmhouse and take a place in our family. She will be our daughter if that is her choice."
Trista was so pleased with the news that she let out a giggle of joy (fortunately, fairy giggles sound just like the chirping of crickets to the human ear). Trista knew that since the couple had no child of their own, they would pass the farm on to Beatrix one day. Trista knew that Beatrix loved and cared for the farm and animals almost as much as she, and so, the farm would stay a happy place for a very long time.
The next morning Trista woke just after dawn. She stretched her arms and let out a tiny yawn. She then stretched her wings and flitted about the farm. First, she washed her face with drops of dew from the thick lawn, she then checked on Clovis, by the looks of the sleeping mare Trista guessed her foal would come soon. Then the fairy hoped to learn of the happy developments in the farmer's family. She expected to see Beatrix skipping joyfully with her pail full of feed for the animals. She wanted to see how broad was the girl's smile after learning of invitation to join the farmer's family.
In stead, Trista saw the poor girl being dragged by her ear into the barn. A bent and toothless woman was pulling her and scolding her with wicked words. Tears were dripping from the poor girl's chin.
"You worthless sow, you are never to put so much as a toe inside that house without my invitation." The vile woman cackled. "Your master and mistress are my kin. And I am in charge until they come home. If you disobey me I will beat you and you will starve." The woman's cat slinked up next her. "Keep an eye on this one Alistair," she said to the hissing beast.
"I will be here long enough to set things right. And by the looks of this shabby, filthy barn I will be here for some time."
Trista was furious at this horrid woman. No one would call her home filthy or abuse the sweet servant girl. She knew this woman was a hateful liar. At first glimpse of the old hag Trista knew for certain this hag was no relation to the farmer or his wife. She knew this creature was a sorceress. But Trista could not guess what harm had befallen the old couple.
Now fairies, even the Fauna Star Fairies, have a complicated relationship with cats.
Kittens, house cats and strays are cared for and loved as any other animal would be but when a cat chooses to work in tandem with a wicked sorceress they become a very powerful enemy of the fairies. Evil felines were known to sniff out and pounce on unsuspecting fairies in their sleep. Trista had to keep a vigilant watch out for the witch and the fiendish Alistair.
For days Trista watched in sadness as Beatrix rushed about the farm doing all the work once shared by three people. The poor girl looked exhausted and heartsick. All the while the sorceress would bark orders at her.
"Chop the wood you worthless girl, my fire has to be hotter. Muck the stalls; fetch the water..." and whatever else she wanted. She bossed the child about like a slave until Beatrix collapsed into the hay of the barn stall.
No good would come if other fairy folk learned of it, but Trista decided to help the poor girl. She fetched a ladle of water from the drinking well and gathered berries to nourish her. When she woke Beatrix was astounded to see the glorious fairy in all her beauty.

Trista Part II

"Do not be startled Beatrix," Trista reassured her, "My name is Trista and I live in this
barn and I have known and watched you since you came here.”
Beatrix was a simple a girl but like most children she heard stories about the fairy folk. Seeing now the diminutive fairy flying before her, encircled with the glitter of gold, was an amazing thing. She thought for a moment that her sadness and fatigue had brought her to image the vision but Trista proceeded. "The woman in that house is not who she claims to be. She is a witch and you must flee from here for you own safety."
"What has she done to my mistress," Beatrix asked in a sudden panic.
"I do not know, but I will try to find out. That is no easy task with that nasty cat skulking about. Only, you cannot worry about that, leave this farm at once. Surely you know the danger a witch can be to a child like yourself?
"I will not leave the animals to the mercy of a witch," Beatrix replied bravely "She needs me do her bidding too much to eat me. What if I were to go; what would become of Clovis, she is just about to give birth?"
"Oh, kind girl you are very brave indeed. But I fear the mare is the reason the sorceress had come to the farm. I cannot say more now. I smell Alistair just beyond the door. Be careful, stay if you must, but when the witch goes to rest meet me at the foot bridge and we will talk more."
Well after dark, a done in Beatrix went to the meet the fairy she made the long walk to the wooden bridge far from the farmhouse. She nearly missed seeing the fairy until the wind pushed a cloud from the moon and Trista, in a cloud of glitter, was revealed. She motioned for the girl to follow her quietly to a thicket near the bridge.
“Beatrix,” she whispered, “as quickly and as quietly as you can mange, peak through the opening in the hedge.”
The girl did as she was instructed. With one eye, she beheld a fantastical vision.
Standing some twenty paces away was the magnificent figure of a horse drinking from a forest pond. His hide was so white it seemed translucent in the moonglow. His eyes were gems that seemed possessed of a purple fire. His golden mane was braided and adorned with precious stones. The noble head of the beast was crowned with a long spiraled horn. The silver horn itself sparkled but not from the starlight, it radiated its own illumination.
“Come away now quick,” Trista prompted in a whisper while pulling at the girl’s apron, “follow me back to the barn.”
The pair scurried back. And once inside, Beatrix moved some implements against the doors to block any unwelcome visitors. She was exhilarated by the vision. “Trista I thought you were the most miraculous thing that I ever would see but a unicorn! He was so beautiful!”
“Yes, his name is Stave. Unicorns are the most magical and powerful beasts in the forest. They are so rare and so hunted that they must stay in hiding. If he had seen us he would have disappeared for a very long while.”
Trista flew over to the stall where Clovis lay. “Sit here in the hay with the mare; she loves it when you brush her back.”
Again Beatrix did as the fairy asked. She loved spending time with the gentle Clovis and was so pleased to hear Trista say the mare enjoyed their time together as well.
“I am afraid that the unicorn is the reason that foul sorceress has darkened our door.”
“How,” the child wondered, “how could that beautiful creature have anything to do with that hag?”
“What you do not know dear girl is that our Clovis is the wife of Stave, the unicorn, and her unborn colt will be a magical beast. Now Beatrix this will be a terrible thing to hear....” The fairy flew right beside the girl’s ear and whispered, careful to miss the earshot of the horse.
“The bloody heart of a newborn unicorn foal is the source of great magic. The evil witch plans to tear it out and devour it as its mother lie helpless.”
Beatrix panicked. “Please, please Trista, use your fairy magic to stop the fiend."
"I whish it were so simple. I will fight the witch. There is no doubt about that but fairy magic is very different from the black magic of a sorceress. While we can help the flowers to bloom or bring comfort to an ailing animal, the witch's spells were meant to destroy things and make malice grow."
The girl began weeping into here hands.
“Please child do not despair, I have one thing that will aid our cause. I have a magic wand. The fairy queen gave it to me on my 100th birthday.”
She called for the tiny wand by its name. When called by the fairy, the wand’s name sounded, to Beatrix, like the blissful chortle of songbirds. The tiny wand fell from the sky leaving behind a trail of sparkles. It looked like the limb of a fresh sapling. “I am no expert with these things.” Trista said, “I think there are at least two or three powerful spells in this wand. I know for certain there is a love spell in there somewhere but I will save that one for you Beatrix, when you are older.” She finished with a giggle.
Beatrix blushed and smiled while drying her eyes with the hem of her apron.
Trista’s ears pricked up as Clovis began to stir wildly. “Oh no, it is time. The birth is upon us.”
At that exact instant, the cruel sorceress burst into the barn startling the two friends. She caressed her craggy face and licked her worm-like lips. Alistair sat beside her, but he was no longer the devious feline. He had been transformed into terrifying beast unlike any found in nature; he was a wretched terror made from the dark arts.
The snarling brute charged at Beatrix as the witch headed for the birthing mare. Trista flew at the sorceress aiming her wand; she let one large blast go as the old witch cackled.