Page 2 of Entwined

“Ma! Da!”

Bram took off at a fast clip, leaping and skipping through the dense forest, mindful that he didn’t trample any mushrooms, fuzzy caterpillars or the tiny frogs who liked to hop, hop, hop through the ferns. He reached one of the many creeks that flowed lazily through the moon fairies vast, forested land and easily jumped across the crystal-clear water.

“Ma! Da!”

His lilting voice echoed across the expansive glen of his moonbeam clan. Several of his clanmates lifted their heads from their daily berry-plucking duties to regard crazy Bram as he flitted from rock to rock, hurrying to make his way to his home in the valley. Bram knew he could get overly excited at times, and that maybe he wasn’t as calm and quiet as the others, but he couldn’t help his enthusiasm. After all, they lived in the most beautiful, most magical and glorious place in all the dimensions, so why wouldn’t he want to dance and sing all day? Especially since plucking berries, making garlands and weaving strings of gold and silver into baskets was so boring.

By the time he’d reached his family home located in a massive oak tree, he could barely draw in air. Bram halted at the base of the beautiful tree, resting one palm against the bark as he waited for his breathing to slow before attempting to open his wings and fly up to the front door.

As he took a moment to regain his energy spark, he noted that the creation force emanating from the innermost part of the trunk was sharper and more apparent than it had been from even the day before. He could detect the tree’s growth, feel it adding to its girth as another ring formed beneath the thick, resilient shell that guarded the life within.

Yes. It’s finally happened.

Bram’s heart thumped against his ribs in excitement. He was a life-giver. His maturity had come and soon he would be growing a child within his body.

With the seed of my fated mate.

“Ma! Da!”

His wings burst forth, the transparent panels appearing delicate, the silver veins traversing them as they shimmered in the soft glow of the flowers and fireflies giving a false sense of fragility. But they were deceiving. A fairy battle could be a harsh and violent display, and the wings were one of the weapons that were used.

Bram reached the entrance of his family home and yanked the birchwood door wide open. It banged against the round structure and Bram winced. His ma and da hated it when he did that—which was almost every day.

“Bram! Look! I found a purple and green strobe butterfly and she said she would live with me in my room!

His younger sister, Glynnis, rushed toward him, palms held up with said butterfly perched on them. Bram covered his eyes, the flashing glow from the flying bug threatening to give him a headache.

“Does Ma know you have this creature?”

Glynnis shook her head with vehemence. “And you mustn’t tell them, Bram.”

Bram placed his hands on his hips, squinting against the butterfly’s glow. “Do you really think ma won’t notice a pulsing purple and green light coming from your bedroom?”

Glynnis frowned and pursed her lips. “I’ll just hide her in my closet then.”

Bram huffed and shook his finger at her. “You can’t do that, Glynny! Poor butterfly. She needs to spread her wings and fly from flower to flower, or she’ll wither away and die!”

“But…” Glynnis regarded the butterfly then looked back at him. “She told me she’d stay.”

Bram sighed in exasperation. He didn’t have time for butterflies, and he couldn’t take much more of the strobe effects from the thing either.

“You go on now and have a serious discussion with that butterfly, make sure she knows what she’s getting herself into with you. I need to find ma and da.”

“Oh, well da is with the council at the meeting meadow. They’re in the middle of planning the Harvest Moon Festival. I’m going to sing, you know.”

Curses. Bram rubbed his chin. He’d forgotten about the festival planning. Those things could take cycles and cycles. He didn’t have time for that, either.

“What about ma?”

“She’s hunting for diamonds in the big river.”

Bram stuck out his tongue. He preferred rubies. “All right. I’ll see if I can find her there.”

“What’s so important? Tell me!”

“Mind your own beeswax.” He pointed to her room. “And go tell that poor butterfly what horrible fate you have planned for her!”

“You’re mean!”