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ISADORA: BORN UNDER A FAIRY MOON
 Once upon a time, on a crisp winter’s night Moonbeam sat in the curve of the new moon. She dangled her legs over the edge and looked down at the world below her. The earth was covered by tiny dots of lights showing where the humans lived in their strange houses. Moonbeam liked being the fairy in the moon, watching over the world as it slept. Tonight was going to be special; she could feel it. The clouds had started to gather and Moonbeam thought there might be snow. Now that would be fun.
Sure enough a few minutes later the first cautious snowflakes started to flutter to the earth. Moonbeam waited, holding her breath. She knew she mustn’t use her wand too soon, just in case the snow stopped. Gradually the snowflakes grew in number and then they grew in size. Yes, thought Moonbeam, tonight there’s going to be a fairy moon.
She took out her wand and sprinkled fairy dust amongst the snowflakes. The whole world began to glisten as the sparkling flakes swirled to the earth. With each flick of Moonbeam’s wand the fairy dust increased and the night became more and more magical. When Moonbeam finished, happy with her work, she settled down for a quick snooze. Sprinkling fairy dust might seem like an easy job, but when you’re only three inches tall it can be very tiring.
© Nicci Fletcher 2010
* * * *
Introducing Kheelan, Isadora's father ...
The glass door of the house opened and Kheelan poked his head out. He was wearing his favourite dark green tunic, the one that showed off his pale wings to the greatest advantage. He caught sight of his reflection in one of the panes of glass, and stopped to check how he looked.
"Kheelan, old man, you really are still a very handsome fairy, even if I do say so myself. No one would believe that you’ve just had your 629th birthday. Mmmm, yep still a fine figure of a man. Alvina had better behave otherwise I might find myself a younger wife."
He pulled his fingers through his long brown hair, which he then tied back with a piece of caterpillar silk. He used to wear his hair loose all the time, but now he preferred to tie it back when he was going outside. That way it didn’t get into his eyes when he was flying.
He looked at his reflection again and laughed. "Find myself a younger wife, who are you trying to fool, Kheelan? Everyone knows that you’re still crazy about Alvina. Anyway after 492 years of marriage I think it’s a bit late for a change, don’t you?"
© Nicci Fletcher 2010
* * * *
And Alvina, Isadora's mother ...
Kheelan turned and flew towards the large box that protected their house from prying eyes. When he reached the corner he stopped and waved at Alvina. His heart skipped a beat when she smiled and waved back at him. 
"629 years old and still acting like a love sick teenager. Oh Kheelan, when are you going to grow up?"
But whenever he looked at his wife, Kheelan couldn’t help it. If he was an attractive fairy, then Alvina could only be called stunning. Her pale gold hair cascaded down her long straight back. Her wings, which were a slightly darker gold, had fine threads of dark red laced across their surface. Her dark red dress was long and gently rustled as she moved. The length of her dress was, she accepted, rather impractical, however, it gave her appearance a theatrical elegance that she was unwilling to give up.
© Nicci Fletcher 2010
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© Nicci Fletcher 2011 |
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