A Patchwork Fantasy Snippet full of watery surprises.
In which a violin sings in the mist.
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[Soft, mysterious music]
Laura: Hi, you can call me Laura. This is Patchwork Fairy Tales and you’ve just stumbled upon a Patchwork Fantasy Snippet. If you want to read as well as listen, check out the transcript linked in the description.
There is nothing to fear in the mist itself. There shouldn’t be at least.
All the mist is capable of is rising slowly from the damp meadows as the night air grows cooler, helping the darkness along in her task to hide the world away.
But tonight, as the moonlight trickles down in silver streams, the stirring of the mist seems beyond the powers of the breeze. Tonight the mist dances.
Everything dances when there is nix music drifting through the air.
The tones of the violin are wild and free and sweeping. Only strings spun from water can sing like that and only a nix would ever have thought to make them sing in such a way. It makes the waters of the lake itself rock a rhythm into the waves rippling round the nix’ hips as he stands in his lake. It makes the reeds sway and the trees spread their leaves to curtsy. It makes the mist whirl.
These are times for latched windows and locked doors.
It is not a night to risk going off the marked paths. Not at all the right time to find yourself traipsing into places where the moonlight and the music are too bright to not loose your mind to.
The young woman now staring up at the otherworldly musician with her eyes wide and her ears completely uncovered should know this.
If she had heeded her family’s warnings she would not be moving towards the water against her will.
She does not dance, her footsteps are slow, but they still follow the rhythm of the music. Closer and closer to the water. Her eyes are fixed on the nix as he plays, but his eyes are closed, his fine features seemingly all wrapped up in his own music. Seemingly wholly unaware.
Not a sound escapes her lips to disturb the music. Not a whimper, not a plea.
She staggers, she stumbles, and she dissapears into the lake.
The nix’ eyes fly open right at the moment Ophelia hits the water and a big splash is flung into his face.
“Shit!” He drops his instrument, making the violin let out an indignant whine, and a moment later he hauls his spluttering friend up from where she is thrashing in the shallows with her heavy boots.
“Dammit,” she coughs, spitting up water.
“Sorry!” he winces, trying to drag her back to her feet. “I’m sorry!”
Ophelia hacks and coughs as she clambers back onto the shore. “Nah, my fault too,” she laughes breathlessly. “I thought the boots would be enough! Next time I won’t sit so close to the water.”
“Oh your brother’s going to be upset,” he sighs, watching guiltily how Ophelia wrings a considerable amount of the lake out of her clothes.
Ophelia Nimue Bach – her parents really should have known better, her continually falling in various bodies of water is much more their responsibility that hers, when you think about it – gives as impressive a scoff as any person currently dripping with mud and water could possibly manage. “If it gives him an excuse to run over here and pretend to scold you, sure he will,” she snorts, but it’s only mutter under her breath and she immediately talks over herself with a cheerful: “But hey! Wet feet aside-” She gives him a flash of her brilliant smile. “Fantastic song.”
His face brigthens immediately. “You really think so? It’s kind of out there, you know, I wasn’t sure if that bridge to the chorus would work.”
“Oh no it definitely works.” Ophelia shakes her wet hair, flinging water left and right. “That bridge to the second chorus was when my feet ran away with me.”
The nix beams.
[Soft, mysterious music returns]
Laura: Thank you for listening, I hope you liked this snippet of patchwork fantasy. Transcripts, easy streaming, and all the information about this podcast and all my other creations can be found on laurasimons.com.
There’s another tale to tell some other day, but until then: remember to guard your name, and be safe.
Copyright Laura Simons, please do not copy my stories without my permission, lest you insult the fae.