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Just Stella

Hot 1Viewed 702 times2018-5-20 23:11

I forgot about Hollow Lore stuff 'cause I had no time for it, and my schedule's getting packed, soooo... not sure if I'll continue those posts. But I did make a nice little story about my fairy. It's more of an introduction than anything else.
***
Just Stella

Stella can recall the overhead view of golden, falling pixie dust the first time she gave birth to sight, as well as the faces of those she quickly specified as her own kind. The night she came to life would undoubtedly stay with her for the many seasons to come to the mainland.


She stands, unfolding her wings with a slight stretch, drawing one breath after another, wallowing in the fresh rays of light streaking through openings scattered about the petal walls of her house. A morning without thinking about the past makes the day feel off, stiff somewhat. It’s like there’s a puzzle piece that’s gone missing from the daily routine. So, with eye bag-worn eyes, a skyward-pointed finger, and frizzy curls, she declared that she wouldn’t let that precious piece go astray from now on.


Let’s make it different this time and recall… ‘everything’ for once.


Not remembering everything once in a while gives her a headache, or so she feels. That persistent, near-intoxicating feeling is enough to draw her out of what would be the brightest of her moods, especially when she’s hurling glowing orbs at zipping fireflies that are practically coming from all places at once, herself playing along with them like it’s a race to see who’ll be the last one flying in the everlasting grasp of night. Slap in that blah sentiment and she’s a ragdoll plunging from leaf to leaf until she hits the dirt with a moan, throbbing muscles, and an overall worsened emotional state.


Stella shuffles in her stance, whipping petal sheets from the floor back onto her feathery cot with the flick of a half-awoken wrist, and she mentally screams at herself to flop back onto that beautiful heap of soft, warm goodness. Too slothful to even flap a wing, she shakes her head, only to realize that the frail thing that she still had the freaking decency to call a bun fell apart, mud-colored strands slapping her face from all angles.


“Great way to kick off the morning.”


Slapping her cheeks to kickstart the gears in her mind, she drinks in the tired appearance of herself from a sunflower-framed mirror.


“Thanks for making me look like a banshee, hair.”


With haste, her body motions follow the pace of her quiet, stilted voice. She draws the comb and surfs it across frizzy wave after tangled wave.


Her arrival day came to mind.


Drawn toward the sphere that spewed radiance as if she were a fish entranced by bait, the brilliant thing flashed with more brightness when her hands encircled it. As if on cue, she rose it upward and carefully gazed at what the folk around her considered a blinding bundle of illumination.


“Another Light talent! Heck yeah!”


“Wish I could look at light that easily…”


“We got another star joining the ranks, guys!”


When the orb discontinued its blinding streak, she looked over her shoulder with naive, sparkling, emerald eyes. The great fairy that had granted her the ability to glide chuckled and flew beside her, emitting the faint scent of cinnamon that she gladly welcomed with a relaxed breath.


“Come Light fairies, and welcome the newest member of your Talent group--” the Queen looked up at the twinkling stars that stared back at the inhabitants of Pixie Hollow, “--Stella.”


She smiled and dissipated into eroding pixie dust, all while Stella cradled her light orb so she could reach out to feel for those remaining bits of dust, something that she thought would feel just right in her grasp. With legs that had been shaking at varying rates from the first time she drew a breath (a neat waft of freshly cut grass combined with lingering cinnamon), Stella grinned at her incoming mentors. Behind the facade of an introvert, her eyes wavered around with the truth behind them. Chained was the ferocious beast of passion that had yet to grow with many seasons. It craved wisdom, desired growth--heck, if Stella had to traverse the mainland on her own to gain a life’s worth of experience, she’d do it if it meant trumping all ignorance.


Well, more like she wanted to. Her occasionally lazy nature didn’t help her cause, as well as the span of one heartbeat being all she needed to turn fearful in reaching her goals.


She’s finished combing, letting a broad curl conceal one eye. She can see that roaring soul of hers buckled behind a yellow iris that was once green, screaming at those darned menaces and fears to just let it go already and let it experience the raw world for strength.


Because she has a knack for reaction-over-action, Stella sighs and fishes the drawers for freshly-picked peppermint leaves. It’s not long before she’s crunching them down, her gaze into the mirror molding into a staring contest with that unblinking eye. She doesn’t exactly know how to make words on how she feels of it. She either despises the feeling or hate and love are two sides of the same coin so she feels both ways about it.


Spitting out the leaves, Stella turns a few knobs from her dresser. Slipping on fabrics of red and yellow prompts a grin to emerge from her morning-dry lips. Probably the best gown to wear if she was still in the mood for rest.


Waving short strands of hair like they’re the perfect shape of a flower twirling in the breeze and giving her wings a stretch, she plops in some earrings and sticks her tongue out like the secretive dork she is. The reflection she sees is enough to get a giggle out of her.


“Remember when I wore just yellow and white? Yeah, I remember, me.”


That’s enough talk. Time to get her favorite cinnamon buns from the Tearoom before they’re out. Then, another same old day soaring about with the fireflies.


And another day of dreaming of going to the mainland to learn more about myself and the world.



i don't care

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flowers

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funny

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