Josey's Journey

Josey's Journey

Sir Robert

(Faejolee's Husband)

I had lived in Breton Waters in the land of Turane with my Mother and two half sisters for better than 12 years, but nearing my 13th birthday, I had started a long journey, the tale of which I'm about to impart to you. My sisters - Hethane who turned 18 on her last birthday and Gwenella, 16 - more than likely rejoiced to Paradise above the day I'd departed. They and Mother thought me impudent, though Mother always covered me with her special kisses, I being the babe of the family. I'm sure that there are other delightful metaphors they could have used, but impudent is a word that stood out with sparkling clarity, probably because it really fit so well. Well, I can't help it if I make Mother stand on her wings; I was born with pointed ears, the only fairy in the Waters with such a prized distinction.

"Josiah," Mother said to me this week past, "'Tis time you set out for your father's land; it is there where he himself journeyed to die more than 10 years back when he was struck down with the Damp."

"But - " I was flushed with disbelief and fear. I had never been gone from the general vicinity of my birthplace for more than a sun spell. And using my full name gave me pause. It's a rarity that it is ever used…even by Mother. Usually, I've been demoted for one infraction or another when I'm called by my given name instead of just Josey, the song to which I prefer to answer, so this was really serious business. You know, I had heard about other fairies who had had to follow the footsteps of their fathers, but I guess I never dreamed that it would happen to me. Well, that just proved to me that I'm no fairy special, even though I've always believed that I was sort of exceptionally different, as in perfect. You know how it is; you think you're the most important creature among the Folke.

"There is no other choice," Mother lamented, as she and my two older sisters encircled me in a tearful, family embrace. "'Tis the way of our fairydom," she cried as she smoothed down my hair. "But it tears me apart. Paradise knows how it breaks my heart."

*****************************************************************************************************

So, off I went into the unknown, with a sack and a map and a whole lot of apprehension. I'd been told that fairymanhood deemed that I enter this journey with no preparation whatsoever, but Paradise above, I'm not even a teen fairy yet. Well, anyway, I was tranced by the Healer so I could follow my destiny with the least amount of distraction as possible. I believe that the Human forms in the parallel dimension on this celestial Globe call it being `hypnotized'. Oh me, oh my, glassy-eyed or bleary-eyed, here I go.

I followed the map diligently. But, it really wasn't much of a stretch for me, since I had apprenticed at map making back in Breton Waters for nearly two years. They said that cartography or the creation of maps was in my family root system, that my own dear pappy - wingless as he was - knew, drew and skoobie doobie dood the maps all over the place. Now, this very chart sent me to the top of the great Globe on which we all reside, fraught with danger and hazards and…no, I can't lie about it, as much as I'd like to. You see, in the dimension of fairies and such like Folke, there really aren't too many hazards to encounter. Naturally, there are the winds and the cold and the damp, along with the lightening and the thunder, but if I keep my wings aflutter, then I'll stay warm and dry and hopefully safe. I had to be wary of felines, though, of any type. I'd been warned, because even though those slinky critters can't see us special ones on this very side, felines or cats can sense our presence and even blindly attack a poor, defenseless fairy such as I. Well, if it was up to me, there would a law against that.

*****************************************************************************************************

Well, after two and a half weeks of walking and winging and catching the tail stream of a northbound eagle, I found myself well within the boundaries of what is known as the arctic circle. To my knowledge, it really bore no reference name, so I had to use the Human identification for this area at the top of the Globe. It dawned on me then why my old pappy's Folke would want to live here in this desolate, frigid place, but hey, this is where the map took me. So, you want to play a prank on a polar bear - big deal. There's no vegetation, nothing green at all. Even the water - the water that's not frozen solid into large chunks of ice, that is - appears to be just as white and as pristine as the landscape.

"Halt!" a voice called out of the snow.

Whoa, the surprise of another voice out here in no fairies' land made me drop whatever it is I had that could drop.

"Halt, yourself," replied yours truly. Ah, there he stood, much older than I, but I'd guess that he was at most two hand spans below my height. It was nearly nightfall, but I could see him clearly, as clear as midday in the Waters.

"This is the outer perimeter, Stranger," he said authoritatively. "And you are trespassing."

"Trespassing? What do you mean trespassing?" I remarked glibly. He stood in the doorway of a small shed - or outpost, as I would later learn - that was painted as white as the snow. His outer garments from the top of his head to the tips of his toes looked warm enough but his pronounced cheekbones and button nose were wind burnt red. "Do you own all this?" I gestured around to my left and right, really tempted to say `wasteland', but I held my impudent tongue.

"You mean you don't know what this is?" the shivering sentry asked incredulously.

"Pray, tell me."

"I'll tell you," he said, his crimson face contorted with a suspicious bend. "But first, you better tell me what those things are on your back."

"They're called wings, sir!" I tried to hide my sarcasm, but I'm not an incorrigible almost teen fairy for nothing.

"Then, you must be one of the Folke," he reasoned.

"Well, duh!"

"Don't be impertinent!" he barked impatiently. "State your name and bidness."

"You forgot to tell me what this place is." I curtly reminded him.

He gave an uncharacteristic Folke snort. "This is the North Pole. You know? Santa's workshop, smarty, now name and bidness."

My lower jaw fell to my chest. "I thought that was only make believe."

Mr. Sentry rolled his eyes and cleared his throat for effect, I suppose.

"Oh yeah, all right, already," I confessed, though not too contritely. "I'm Josiah from Breton Waters, and son of Bearyizer of the Northern Terrs."

He motioned me closer to his position as he inspected my face closely. Then he smiled. "By Paradise, you are his son, you really are!" He grabbed my hands in his and jumped up and down in place and started to hoot and giggle. "Beary's son!" His excitement was contagious. "We had heard he married an outsider."

With that, I took offense. "My mother is not an outsider," I said defensively, throwing out my puny chest. "She's one of the Folke, as am I."

"Aye," he admitted. "You're half fairy and half elf. `Tis a good combination. And you're in the Northern Terrs right now."

**********************************************************************************

Click on the next link/ Josey's Journey Cont.

Original Fairytales

Faejolee's Fairylands | home