Forsaking Innocence- The Strength of Beliefs

Author : Medha Patki

Country : Canada

Lily stood at the entrance of the forest, her dark eyes glancing fondly at the green canopy, watching the sunlight struggle to penetrate through the leaves. She smiled as wind billowed around her, her dark hair brushed gently as if being caressed. The wind carried innocence with it, its freedom going wherever it wanted to make it feel somewhat like a little child who was careening about without a care in the world. The sweet scent of the river made Lily take deep breaths, appreciating the serenity of it all. The soft sound from the gushing water of the river relaxed her.

“Come here, child,” a melodious voice called out to her.

Lily turned around and smiled warmly at the familiar sight. A small person, about half of Lily’s size, was fluttering around with rainbow wings, not unlike those of butterflies’, flapping slowly. The colours of the wings interwove with each other, the rhythmic movements gave them a radiating effect, and young Lily was almost hypnotized. She walked toward the faerie, smiling excitedly. Although she had seen the faeries plenty a time before, she felt a jolt of excitement rushing through her veins. She was a child, after all.

All of a sudden, gentle breezes blew about, and silent whispers filled the air. It was as though the forest had come to life, and indeed, it had.

Ever since she could walk on her own, Lily visited the woods to run among the grasses, to play with the tame rabbits that ran around and to build ‘houses’ out of twigs. It was there that she found she had a gift. Young as she was, she had an extraordinary gift that gave her many companions, and enough friends to last her a lifetime. The gift she had was the ability to talk to the creatures of the forest, be it the strong, motherly trees, the gentle, swirling winds, or the winding, rippling streams.

The faerie that had beckoned to her was Glyphys, the queen of the rainbow clan. She and her fellow faeries lived in these woods, their woods. They had brought the barren land to life, they told her, thousands of years ago, and had lived in peace for as many years. Their quest to remain undiscovered by the humans was a incessant effort, and they depended on the young girl to keep their secret. As legend stated, the clans each had to have a secret keeper, a young human that still believed in fairy tales, a child that was strong enough to hold the future of the clan in their tiny hands.

And that was how she was chosen. Her innocence shone from her when she first entered the forest. Her strength was shown in her eyes, as she toddled through the well-worn pathways along with her grandfather. Her care for the rabbit that had one leg snapped off by a snare was quite evident, and even though she was only a child, her concern touched the creatures of the forest. It was then the gift was bestowed upon her, through the collective efforts and powers of the faeries. When she returned to the forest the next time, the concern and the innocence was still there, and it assured the clan that they had made the right choice.

As the girl grew, her interest in fairytales grew. Although most girls of her age were now more interested in other things such as boys and shopping and music, she was still invested in her interest, her secret keeping her going. She knew that if she stopped believing, she would lose all her friends, and her days would be filled with boredom. No more stories from the all-knowing trees. No more playing hide-and-seek with the very hard-to-find young animals. All the lessons about the vast forests and everything that grew in them from the young faeries would cease to exist. That was something she was not prepared to deal with yet.

* * *

“Lily, doll, why don’t you go out to the mall? Jessica’s asking for you on the phone,” Her mother suggested once, peeking into her small room. She was drawing again, the same pictures of dense forests and surprisingly vivid drawings of very realistic fairies. The girl shook her head fervently, hands deftly producing what could be a masterpiece. Her mother sorrowfully shook her head as she watched her daughter. She absolutely loved fairies, and the like. Everything in Lily’s room was fairies: her bedspread, her wallpaper, and her clothes. It was borderline obsessive, was what her mother often thought. Why couldn’t her daughter be like other girls and just like to spend money on clothes and be obsessed with music, boys, and celebrities? Why did she have to have the oddest taste and be the laughing stock of the entire neighbourhood?

That night, when her daughter was asleep, Mrs. Blythe and her husband quietly took all of Lily’s fairy related things away, hoping that she would learn to live without it. They had tried talking to her, it hadn’t worked. They had tried introducing her to other hobbies, and that didn’t work either. She refused to give anything else even a single thought.

The next day, Lily woke up to a practically empty room, all her beloved faerie decorations gone. She knew very well that if she lost her innocence – her ability to believe – she could lose her gift, her friends, everything. Constructing an excuse about wanting to collect flowers, she raced to the forest, her heart racing, terrified of what she would find.

As she reached there, she skidded to a halt, eyes and ears wide open, ready to hear the voices that brought her up, taught her all the lessons she needed to learn. Slowly, the trees came to life, talking animatedly, their branches moving expressively. The clumps of flowers spoke in high-pitched tones, apparently spreading gossip, and the grass chatted among each other like little children.

With a satisfied smile, she walked among the trees, politely greeting all the older ones, and discussing in length the effect of sunlight on the colour of their leaves (as it was quite evident that leaf colour was a status symbol). She was glad she hadn’t lost her gift, and even though all her things were taken away, she knew her belief was strong enough that even her parents couldn’t change it. She spent the rest of the morning there, any concern for mundane things such as eating nonexistent.

She returned home, assured that she would not be friendless yet, and that she was still a child, although she was only a few months away from turning thirteen. Since all the girls around her started had drifted away from fairytales, Lily was expected to do the same. However, she had learned that being a kid was fun and that dealing with ‘the world’ was much more complicated than playing with toys. She was absolutely unprepared, despite what she was told, and how smart her mother claimed she was, and despite the excellent aptitude her teachers declared she had. She just didn’t want to grow up this quickly, and the forest was only part of the reason.

Over the next few weeks, Lily visited her beloved forest and friends daily, appreciating greatly the amount of trust that was placed in her. Occasionally, she wished she was a faerie herself, and often imagined a pair of glistening, delicate wings adorning her body. She was told by the younger faeries that humans could not ever become the beautiful creatures, because as they grew up, their ability to believe would diminish and they would expose all the clans of the world, there by upsetting the balance of supernatural and the natural. This saddened her immensely, and she began to wonder whether her ‘obsession’, as her mother called it, was worth all the burdens placed upon her weak shoulders.

Slowly, the lustrous river became a stream of muddy water, unworthy of her attention. The injured animals became nuisances, little flea-carrying scumbags. The wise old trees became wrinkly and old, and suddenly seemed unnecessary. Her fascination with the never-ending woods slowly decreased, and she hardly visited anymore. Outside of the woods, she had taken to hanging out with her friends, going shopping lots, and did not miss her faerie decorations anymore. She even started spelling the word ‘faerie’ as ‘fairy’. Glyphys was disappointed; she had hoped her protégé would hold up longer, that she would not be defeated by the humans’ illusion of reality. She and her clan went about searching for a new secret-keeper.

When her gift was fading away, Lily did not realize it. She was bored one day, and decided to take a walk in the woods. As she reached there, she heard the loud voices of men, and the intense sounds that accompanied heavy machinery. She stood at what was once the entrance of the forest, only to see that more than half the forest was cut down, and the rest was in the process of being cleared. She heard a familiar voice say, “You stopped believing, dear. You stopped believing. Look at what has happened!” She turned, expecting to see Glyphys, but only saw some golden dust float to the ground, and she closed her eyes as tears threatened to spill. A lone tear followed the dust, and dripped onto the floor. She sank to her knees, and sobbed quietly until the end of the day, when one of the workers asked her to leave as they were leaving for the night as well.