The moonlight could not penetrate the thick mists and the
forest canopy, leaving the forest floor pitch dark. In that
darkness, however, was a creature whose very presence
radiated a soft light upon the great trees all around.
In ancient times, this forest was a holy place, but now its
name has been lost to man, for man tends to forget such
wonders. There was a time when even man was innocent and
would walk these paths of old with the faeries.
Between these ancient trees walked silently a bright
silhouette, backed by the darkened forest. She was pale as
the moon and her hair was long and silver-shaded. It would
easily reach the ground, and it fell from the crown of her
head to the dead leaves near her feet like rays of
moonlight. Her frame was as fragile as a sliver of light
that reflected from ripples in the nocturnal lake. Covering
her gentle form was a dress of shifting silk, as thin as
spider webs, and almost transparent to the light she shown
upon the world. She wrapped herself in this garment as if it
could protect her from the cold. And her eyes, her eyes were
a million stars, frozen in their flickering like celestial
snowflakes, unique and spectacular.
All around her, the forest creatures followed her every step
with reverence: the nightingales, the wolves, and even toads
- and many others that did not meet the eye. These creatures
bathed pleasantly in her presence for the short while,
before she left the forest and stepped on the edge of the
lake.
This lake, its shores distant and fading, was covered by a
thick fog that the calm winds did nothing to disperse. Only
with a breeze did the moon become visible, its reflection
shattered on the waves.
She whispered softly, almost humming those words that held
power over nature's laws and restrictions. Her voice was a
lullaby, and with its music all the animals departed - to
sleep or to waking - while the lady placed her steps upon
the lake.
Her footsteps were light as a fallen leaf on the water, and
she glided on the ripples through the mists. But when the
moon touched her face one could see the sadness in her eyes,
and though her thin frame was as fragile as a layer of frost
on the water, her sorrow was as deep as the lake, and all
her tears could not fill it up, or warm it in the night.
She paced slowly through the mist, her eyes in the placid
waters. Then, a small light, like some solitary firefly,
came flickering from the forest through the fog. She turned
as she hear the clapping of those tiny wings, and within
seconds the small frame of a girl, air born on a pair of
glowing blue butterfly wings, came into sight.
"What have we here! Clarilye..." said the faerie in a voice
that tinkled like silver bells. "Why are you alone tonight?
And why are you so sad?"
"I am and so I am..." She whispered, perhaps to herself, "I
am sad because my dreams are far away... but tonight the
mists are thick, and I shall summon the courage to go where
my dreams beckon me."
"What draws you, lady?" She asked, curiously. "All the
world's happiness is here for you. All the living creatures
bend to your will and your touch; all of nature's plants
serve you in shade and fruit. The beauty of the world
surrounds you, what else do you seek?"
"Oh, little one..." She sighed, the mists shifting around
her. "All you say is true, but I do not feel this happiness
- the moonlight is frozen to my skin, the tree's embrace is
hollow. I want to be held, I want to feel the warmth... I've
felt it in my dreams. It calls to me, like ancient war drums
- you know the source of this passion?"
"No!" The faerie flickered in astonishment.
"Yes... A human heart. My skin yearns for warmth, my lips
deserve to be kissed... and tonight I shall walk there upon
the lake and through the mists."
Clarilye walked the lake, to the farthest shores, leaving
the faerie and the forest whole anxious with concern and
anticipation.
His cabin on the lake was such a crude structure - square
and unimaginative, and her inner glow could not shine upon
the dead trees of its walls. Frightened yet curious she slid
through the crack in the window like a vapor, and stood
within the camber. In the perfect darkness of his room she
could see the outline of his body upon the bed. She could
sense the warmth and smell his breath.
It was shocking as it was exciting. Would she dare look at
him? Would she risk a light? She had to see him, and the
moon was blocked by the overcast. She spoke softly a few
words in a language long lost, and the ring of their melody
became a spark of glowing phosphorescent light.
Her heart missed a beat.
He was exactly what she imagined, but different in a hundred
apparent ways. In his own way, he was as beautiful as all of
nature's creations, but he was so many levels less than
perfect - so many levels less than her. But more than that,
he was not - in any apparent way - special. He was nothing
more than a domesticated animal. An exotic, intriguing,
animal, but still.
And then she looked around, and as her heart failed now it
faltered... for all around the room were pictures drawn and
poems written of the lady Clarilye of the lake. Every aspect
of her form was lovingly portrayed. Every feature of her
being was described in every light and angle. He had
described and observed the lady of his dreams with such
diligence and love that it made her heart beat faster and
her ever pale face to blush.
"Have I dreamt of you or have you of me?" She whispered.
She leaned on the bed, with the weight of a feather, not
making a sound. She looked at his eyes, flickering under
their lids - sound asleep. Her hair brushed his face like
the breeze as she leaned forward. "My love..." she could
feel the warmth, as their lips touched for one brief moment.

The mists shifted, like the tides, and the full moon shone
brilliantly in the chamber. The light beamed through her
silken garment as it did through her. When he opened his
eyes she was gone, dispersed like the mists in the morning
sun, leaving in his memory her visit, her kiss, like ripples
in a lake, destined to vanish in the waves.