Beneath the Flowers

Sebastian looked around. "Look, over there is a berry bush. I'll leap out of the water and grab some for you. Holly, look around and see if you can't find something to cover her with. We did not think to grab her clothes."

The pixie blushed. "I stole them," she admitted, "from Blanch."

The fish's lips curled in disgust. "The stench of a Borelian on my back, would have been the death of you, so there is no loss there." He darted off, making his way across the lake in hopes to gather some berries for Zaria. Holly laughed at her lover and promised Zaria she would return with something suitable to wear.

When the three were once again together Sebastian had delivered on his promise as had Holly. Zaria wore a long dress made out of the sleeve of a cattail's fruit. It hugged her body and kept her warm. Her belly was soon full of sweet berries and the sun was beginning to seek its rest.

"While I was out, I found you a place to sleep," Holly told her. "There is a small Weevil village tucked under the umbrella of various mushrooms. For a small fee, you can spend the night in one of their cottages."

"A Weevil village?" Zaria asked.

"Weevil's are tasty," Sebastian said.

Holly shook her head. "You think everything smaller than you is tasty."

The brightly scaled fish did not argue with his love's proclamation.

"I have no money," Zaria admitted.

Holly frowned. "Do you not have dust? Don't all pixie's have dust?"

A long sigh of disappointment slipped past Zaria's lips. "I would have dust if I were home, but I am not. When I was born again, I was born as you see me now. I came with nothing."

"Well, we used to have pixies in this land, so perhaps we have dust," Sebastian said.

"Oh you have it," Zaria answered, before glancing over at Holly. "Do you know where pixie dust comes from?" Both of her friends shook their heads.

"We've been without your kind for so long that some stories are forgotten. Where would we find pixie dust?" Holly asked.

Zaria grinned, rose from her seat and searched for one of the pits from the fruit she'd eaten. "Just a moment," she whispered, as she sought and eventually found a hole in the pit. She walked over to Holly and smiled. "Flap your wings very quickly," Zaria told her.

The little butterfly looked at the pixie as if she'd lost her senses, but she did as requested. Butterfly scales fell from Holly's wings. Zaria watched as the scales danced in the air, before landing either on the ground or safely within the chamber of the pit she held. "Now watch," she whispered, dipping the pit over and allowing a fraction of the scales to fall into her palm. She sat down on the ground and blew on the dust. It traveled a few inches away, landing on three miniscule twigs. Instantly the wood caught fire and heat rolled across the three friends.

"Oh my!" Holly and Sebastian said, as the flames licked and danced in the night. Zaria laughed and hurried over to the fire. She warmed herself while gazing at the butterfly and the fish.

"Butterfly dust, or scales as they are truly called, are magical for pixies and fairies. You do have fairies don't you?" Zaria asked.

"Fairies are as rare as pixies, well not as rare. They do exist here, but you never see them and I had no idea they collected our scales!" Holly admitted.

"They probably do it when you're not looking. You just flap your wings and fly, they most likely wait and collect them after you disappear. The ones on the ground, I will gather and keep as well. If that is okay with you," Zaria said, before turning back to embrace the warmth of the fire.

"It's quite okay," Holly told her. She and Sebastian both chose to stay away from the fire as Zaria removed the chill from her bones. "Will you use my scales to seek a place in the Weevil village?"

"I could use them to create my home small dwelling, but since I do not know when I will gain more dust, I do not wish to waste it."

"I could go with you," Holly offered.

Zaria spared a quick glance at Sebastian and took note of the tone of Holly's voice. "I could not ask you to leave Sebastian's side. He is your love and to go with me does not insure your safety. What you've given me is enough and if I find other butterflies as willing and as friendly as you, I shall gather more scales."

The look of relief that crossed both the fish and the butterfly's face made Zaria's heart tighten. She hoped that one day she would have a devoted loved one that she could forever rely on. She rose from the forest floor and asked Sebastian to spit on the fire. The fish did so with little effort, gathering water into his mouth and expelling it with perfect precision.

Holly left Sebastian's side only long enough to show Zaria the way to the Weevil village. Once she was sure that the pixie could find her way, she returned to her love, leaving Zaria on her own once more.

Zaria walked along a small path that had been trampled and formed by millions of tiny woodland creatures. In one hand she carried a small twig that had been topped with moss, and then lit on fire by a scale of pixie dust. The fire remained strong as the pixie walked deeper into the woods, eventually emerging on the other side, where just as Holly had said, a thick grouping of mushrooms existed.

Lights flickered under the canopy of fungus giving Zaria plenty of illumination. She doused the twig and left it's head buried in the dirt, so that no living spark could harm the forest. With her shoulders squared she headed toward the mushroom patch. Hoping she looked confidant and at one with her surroundings and not like a tiny ignorant pixie who didn't know her right hand from her left, Zaria entered the Weevil village.

There were all sorts of tiny creatures busying themselves. Small houses made of pebbles, twigs, and tiny mushrooms were tucked together. Long twigs made up streetlights. On their tops were lighting bugs that blinked on and off according to if someone was approaching or standing under them. Zaria instantly felt safe within the welcoming environment. She wondered if perhaps she would find a safe haven after all.

It took some time for Zaria to make her way to the center of the village. She had stopped to gaze into shop windows and speak with some of the people of Weevil. They were a strange lot. Their skin came in varying shades of gray, black, and brown. Some had short antennas, while others were so long they curled and danced in the wind. They walked on two legs, but had six. The first two pair were used as arms, each arm had a hand and each hand came with three tiny fingers. The last pair of legs, the ones that the weevil's walked on, were thick. The muscles rippled under the fabric that they wore. Their feet were bare and made up much like the fingers on their hands, but the digits were slightly thicker and more likely callused from walking on the earth's surface.

The women of Weevil had long hair that hung almost down to the soles of their feet, and the men kept their hair cut short. Every weevil wore the same style of hair cut their gender dictated, but not the same style of dress. It was apparent to Zaria that there were different classes of Weevil, just as their were pixies, and Borelians. Her gaze shifted back and forth from one house to the next until she spied one that she hoped was full of friendly and giving folk. She hurried across the street and knocked on the door. Instantly it opened, revealing a weevil that was more rotund than any she'd seen since entering the village.

Boll's eyes grew wide as he took in the blonde creature before him. He stepped back and bowed. "Come in!" he said in a voice that proclaimed his excitement.

Inwardly Zaria chuckled at the overzealous greeting, but she also took it as a sign of good things to come. She stepped into the dwelling and introduced herself.

"Zaria, a lovely name," the weevil said. "I am Boll and curator of all things rare and beautiful within the realm of this world. What brings you here and how long will you stay and may I get you something to eat? You're a pixie right? I've heard of you. I have books, many many books about pixies. Never saw one though. Never thought I would!"

Zaria's head spun in circles as the weevil talked and talked and talked. She waited for him to catch a breath before she answered some of his many questions.

"I am a pixie and I wish to stay for some time, but for how long I do not know. I was told I could find a place to rest. I have a way to pay," she lifted the pit with the dust from her hip. "Pixie dust."

Boll's grin grew more wide. "You may stay as long as you like!" he told her, before using one of his six legs to guide her to the back of his home. "Wait here, in the dining room, while I get you something to eat. I've a recipe book on how to prepare pixie food, so I know I'll find something and..."

"Oh please Mister Boll. I do not mean to be much trouble, just a place to sleep for now would be nice."

The Weevil couldn't hide his disappointment, but he also could see that the pixie was tired. His shoulders slumped as a sigh rolled from his lips. "Very well," he said, then stopped and smiled, "but tomorrow, tomorrow after you're well rested, I want to hear all about your world."

Zaria chuckled softly, agreeing to her host's desires and followed him up a spiral staircase and into a room that was worth several scales of pixie dust. She passed the glimmering flakes over to Boll's black palm and thanked him.

"I will show you how to use them in the morning," she promised before he could ask her about them. The Weevil grinned, turned away and hurried back downstairs. Zaria climbed into bed, wondering what tomorrow would bring, but soon those thoughts were caste aside as sleep claimed her.

Boll and Zaria got along quite well during the next several weeks that passed. Zaria had chosen to remain his guest in hopes to better understand the world in which she was now a resident. She learned more about Weevils as well as other species, such as the Orbweavers, a group of people that wove webs and used them not only as their homes, but as traps for their food. Boll showed her how the orbweavers also used those same skills to weave pottery and clothing. Eventually he gave her a dress, and several pairs of trousers and blouses made of the whimsy, but strong material.

Spring desires and lust for mating did not effect the Weevil like it had the Borelians. The people still mated and were still drawn to procreation, but it was reserved for couples who wanted to be with one another. No one sought to harm Zaria, if anything she found herself ignored or tolerated. It seemed to her that only Boll accepted her and so she rarely ventured out of his well-furnished home. Everything she needed was within her reach and Boll did not seem to mind her company.

As the weeks past soon Summer weather was upon them. Zaria was often spotted by the Weevils with a book in hand, making her way across the village to settle within the shade of a flowering shrub. She was aware of the sideways glances that many caste her way, but she ignored them. It was one particular day in July that set the little pixie on another journey toward her future.

She had been sitting alone, minding her own business, writing down her thoughts in a journal that Boll had given her. The conversation behind her grew more loud as three Weevil's engaged in what she assumed was a debate of some sort. It wasn't until she heard one of them say "rare or not, her kind make my skin crawl..."

Zaria stopped writing. The ink of her quill continued to tarnish the parchment in which she wrote. Her breath caught in her throat as she eavesdropped on the conversation.

"Boll walks around here as if he is the Creator himself. He has always been a braggart, but now, with that living under his roof, he has the power to get whatever he wants," one Weevil was saying.

Another chimed in, "And she walks around here as if she is one of us, yet she talks to none of us. She buys our goods with that damn dust, but its power is only good one time. So you better know damn well what you want to use it on."

"When will she leave?" another asked.

Zaria closed her book and put her quill and ink away. She didn't want to hear any more. The hate that radiated from the group had been something she had tried to ignore, choosing instead to remain behind the safety of Boll's friendship.

She left Boll's home and the Weevil village later that afternoon. Boll begged her to stay and asked her why she was leaving. She told him the truth – somewhat – explaining that she needed to be out in the open, in case Wilson was looking for her.

The whole truth was, she'd not thought of Wilson at all during her time in the Weevil village. She had been too absorbed in learning about her new home. Perhaps it was that dedication that had caused the others to dislike her so much. Zaria began the Summer season with a heavy heart.

Summer dragged by for Zaria. She kept cool by building a shelter close to the lake in which Sebastian had chosen to remain along with Holly, who often kept Zaria occupied with exploration and meeting of new friends, but still the small pixie felt out of place and lonely. Wilson had not found her and this made her wonder something horrible had happened to him. So one night she told Holly and Sebastian she was leaving, hoping to either find Wilson or discover how he fared.

Holly accompanied her that first day of her adventure, until she reached the edge of the meadow that lay just beyond the forest. The two friends hugged each other before Holly fluttered more dust into Zaria's shell and fluttered away.

The golden-haired pixie tied the shell to her hip and began to walk along a wheat field. The stalks were thick and full of life, as was the soil in which she walked. She waved at the various creatures that lived within the dirt of the field, and even managed to learn several tidbits of gossip from one particular group of red-spotted ladies when she joined them for a late afternoon lunch.

It was that gossip that took her to the house of Mus, a small rodent type fellow that was looking for someone to tend his children until they reached maturity. Zaria knew that the Summer weather would eventually begin to cool and though she could have wasted her pixie dust on constructing a proper home for herself, she wanted to share it. She had not yet made friends with any butterflies, and she was not willing to follow mindlessly after one in hopes to gather its scales.

Under the guidance of the red-spotted ladies, Zaria waited until dark to approach Mus' home. She took a deep breath and knocked on the bark door of a hollow tree. It did not take long for the owner of the home to open the door and greet the unexpected guest.

Once Zaria explained her reasons for being there, Mus gave her permission to cross the threshold. He turned up the wick of a small lantern, apologizing for the lack of more light. "It hurts my eyes you see," he explained. He pulled on a pair of spectacles and ran his gaze up and down Zaria's figure. "A pixie you say?" he asked again, though the question was rhetorical, "and you'll watch my wee ones while I forage for food?"

"Yes," Zaria answered. "I do understand though that your babes grow fast and I won't be needed for more than a few weeks, but I was hoping that perhaps I could become your maid, at least until I can build a home for myself."

Mus frowned. "A pixie building a home. Don't you have dust?" he asked.

"I do, but it is only for emergencies. I would rather have a home of my own, built up from the ground, than to use my dust for something so trivial."

The rodent like creature looked around the room in which Zaria and he stood. To say it was filthy and unkempt would be an understatement. Since the untimely death of his wife, shortly after birthing his litter of twelve, Mus had allowed his home to take on a different look – one of complete disorder. "You may stay here. Though my children will grow up quickly as all of our kind do, they will still need a home in which to live, until they too find their own hovels."

Zaria smiled and thanked Mus, then asked him where his children were. As he took her up a flight of stairs and led her higher into the hollow trunk of the tree, she asked what species his people were called.

"Peromycus," he answered.

The pixie filed away the information and watched how quickly the father of twelve moved up the stairs. His legs were short, as were his arms, but he moved with the speed of a someone far more taller and thinner. Mus had a round belly, barely hidden by his vest and trousers. His spectacles sat on the edge of his nose and a well-trimmed mustache sat under that. His mouth was small, his teeth sharp and white, but his eyes were what Zaria found the most fascinating. They were small, soft, and dark a large contrast to his pale gray-white skin that was covered with downy soft hairs.

They reached the landing of the stairs, or at least the first flight, for as they climbed Zaria had realized that Mus used the entire trunk as his home. "Surely there is room for all your children if they do not find a home by winter," she committed as the two of them stepped into the nursery.

"There is, but you see. Peromycus can breed within three weeks of birth and each litter can produce the twelve you see here," Mus said, before turning up a lantern that had been bolted into the wall.

Zaria shook her head in amazement. She stepped into the room and took stock at the small, frail, pink bodies that rested quietly in a large cotton-filled bed. In Zaria's mind the Peromycus offspring were far beyond beautiful. They lacked the hairs that their father sported, nor did they have bright dark eyes, at least not yet. Their lids were pink, almost translucent and their bodies were naked save but the blanket that lay across a few of them. "In three weeks they'll look like you?" she asked, somewhat sceptically.

"Me or their mother," Mus promised. "They don't do much," he explained, "so you're job as maid will take up most of your time. I need you here mainly to feed them during the night. I can tend to them during the day."

Zaria shook her head in understanding. "What do I feed them?" she asked.

"Before Summas died, she was able to extract enough milk to take care of them. I have it stored underground with Talpi, he is like me, only ventures out at night. My best friend and greatest companion, well, after Summas anyway. Come, the children will be fine. I fed them prior to your arrival. You will need to meet Talpi since he keeps the milk."

The new nanny/housekeeper quickly followed Mus back down the stairs, across the room she'd first entered and through another chamber. There was no lighting to guide her so Mus told her to hold his hand. With her fingers entwined with Mus' the pair descended into the earth.

Zaria, now blind to all around her, had to rely on her wits. She asked Mus if she could use fairy dust to light their way, but he begged her not too. "The light it hurts," he explained, "not only I, but Talpi as well. You may use it tomorrow, but extinguish it before you knock on Talpi's door. I can't stress enough how much the light disturbs him – so much more so than I."

She agreed and promised she would take care with the dust adding that she would also keep as little light burning when the children were in her care. "Eventually," she said, "I will know this path as well as you."

Mus shook his head, though Zaria did not see it.

They reached a hollowed out place in the earth that was much larger than Zaria had expected. She wondered what type of being Talpi was. It was obvious he needed a lot of room to move around. "May I?" she asked, lifting a small flake from her pouch, "Just a quick peek?"