READ THE STORY

The swirls of the cerulean blue eddy intertwined with the foam of the sea. This particular body of water was brackish- a mixture of both fresh and salt waters. It began as a cloud. The proper meeting of elemental pressure turned the cloud into a gentle snowfall. A snowfall which accumulated atop a mountain. With time, it melted to liquid and descended the mountain in water-fall form. This cascaded down a stark cliff face resembling the curve of the human body. It then gently flowed for several miles before coming into contact with obstacles of the most resilient matter turning it into a tumultuous and dangerous scenario of nature. Yet, after overcoming and finding its way through those obstacles, it relaxed completely. So much so, one would have to throw a leaf into the stream to perceive its movement. Finally, in an embankment, it comes into contact with the high tides of a beautiful, endless ocean, transforming its makeup into a mixture of what it once was and what it would come to be. By this pool of gently swirling water lived the sprites. 

The sprites had lived by the water, in peace, for as long as the oldest of them could remember. Near the shore was a dense and lush forest. In it, they loved to play. Everything for the sprites was beautiful; they flew and frolicked in unending game from sunup to sundown, stopping to rest ever-so-briefly before the moon rose. Then, under its glow they would once again rise and continue their toil and play, enjoying all the natural world had to offer. 

Here they lived happily, cut off from the rest of the world until one day a gray little creature invaded their village. The creature was called Dubium. Dubium did to all of the sprites what he does best- he called into question their self assurance and their confidence. As these qualities waned, the sprites found that their bright blue skin began to resemble the gray of Dubium’s. His devious work of sewing doubt, stitched itself into the very fabric of their culture. 

As always happens, soon after Dubium’s arrival, Payam followed. Payam was far worse than the doubt Dubium brought. Payam peddled fear. Fear, far greater than doubt, keeps creatures from even attempting the things they hope and dream to do.

 Whereas Dubium was gray skinned, Payam was a deep crimson. His visage something simultaneously attractive and repulsive. The sprites, now replete with doubt, were cautious and wary around Payam. He seemed to invite their company and yet still they were hesitant.

Before long, the once free and joyous sprites fell into a deep state of doubt and fear. They now feared playing by moonlight for the nocturnal creatures that may cause them harm in the dark of night. So too by day, they feared. Feared they would too easily be seen by the diurnal dangers that roam in the brightness of the sun. In this dim reality Dubium and Payam grew in size and strength.

Until one day, the sprite known as Bali, the sprite who had always been the first to climb unknown trees and swim foreign waters, had enough of living under the oppression of these foreign creatures. Bali, unable to sleep at the customary time for sprites, stood up in her small home, walked right out the circular doorway, and straight up to Payam. Caught slightly off guard due to the time and the obstinance of this tiny sprite, Payam’s lips still curled in a devilish smile. Bali, staring straight into the eyes of the much larger, red-hided organism, her tiny fists clenched, stated the words she wanted to say, though the truth was quite the opposite.

“I am not afraid of you,” she shouted at Payam. 

Payam’s smile remained as his eyes closed and his head lifted toward the sky, “you will learn to be,” he sneered.

In a sudden and swift movement, this agent of fear collapsed into a vapor upon the forest floor. Almost instantly it crossed the landscape and reformed behind Bali. Before she, or anyone knew what had happened, Payam had ripped most of her dominant, right wing from her body. Bali fell to the ground in agony. Weeping, she stared up at the ghastly terrors of doubt and fear that had now become more real than ever before.

That night Bali mourned the loss of her wing and the only life she had ever known. She could no longer fly. But after she let her emotions run their course, she silently resolved to let neither Dubium nor Payam discern what she could or could not do with her life. So by lunar light, Bali concocted a plan. The very next day, her body still in pain, she went to work. She had to search far and wide to find the perfect twig of a branch for what she needed. It must be strong and it must fork in the perfect spots. It would take much time to build what she had in mind- but it was time she was willing to give to her project. 

At sun up, Dubium and Payam, pleased with the prior day’s events needed to further reap their ill intent upon the sprites, a race they now deemed easy prey. These two, as all who would employ their tricks, needed to assert their power over others.

As they snaked their way around the village of the sprites, feeding off the creatures’ unwillingness to emerge from their homes, one sprite called out to them from the base of the largest tree in the nearby forest. It was Bali.

“I’m still not afraid of you,” she screamed as loud as her tiny lungs were able.

They snarled and hissed as their attention jerked toward the challenger. At just five inches in height, Bali was made all the smaller by the distance between herself and the two deviants. She waited until the exact moment she knew they would chase her before starting her way up the tree. Dubium and Payam switched between smoke form and physical form closing the gap between themselves and Bali with alarming speed. This commotion called the gaze of all the other sprites from the safety of their homes. 

Bali scrambled up the tree as fast as her small body could manage. This had been much easier with all four of her wings, but her three remaining did all they could to aid her jumps and leaps up the barked column. Bali had positioned her twig- based invention at the tippy top of the giant tree. As she reached it she hastened to utilize it, not for even a second looking back to give a glance toward doubt or fear. She threw a leather strap across her body and slid the nub of her missing wing into the contraption. Through resilience, ingenuity, a bit of leather, and the perfect twig, she was once again whole; the three wings she’d been born with and now a fourth of her own creation. She spread her mighty, un-tested wings at the ape of the tree and leapt. The entirety of the sprite village watched her dive as Dubium and Payam, without hesitation, followed. But Bali’s handmade wing had restored not just her ability to fly, but also her self- assurance and confidence. With this, the two creatures giving chase became smaller and smaller, until, in a swirl of smoke and a small pop, they returned to the ether from whence they had come.

Bali soared through the air and down across the village. As the rest of the sprites witnessed her impossible return to flight and defiance of doubt and fear, their own enthusiasm and confidence began to return. Their skin regained its beautiful blue glow and they all returned to play, by night and by day.