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Rated: E · Poetry · Fantasy · #1255686
An evil vampire learns what happens when you mess with fairies.
Never Harm a Fairy

the vampire
breathed in the misty darnkess
the darkness of death
coming especially black
from betwixt the gravestones
behind one of which he hid himself
flesh, though not living, flesh
in tattered, filthy robes
fists clenched
nails long
sharp
waiting
waiting
waiting
for that sorrowful living human
to come in the dead of night
trailed by foggy vapors
drunk
full of gloom and longing
loss terrible
staggering amongst the gravestones
moaning a death moan
for the future that will never be
and the past
now bathed in black sorrow
caring not anymore
for the lost spirits
that are said to frolick among their graves
in the blackest midnight hours
they fear no longer the icy touch
the chill
the death-freeze
of a thousand clouds of phantom breath
puffed into the night air
but the vampire
needing not even to breathe
was deathly silent
his unbeating heart
over long years, wilted
he stalked unseen
though his eyes saw every glare and glimmer
every dark color and image
of the lost spirits
the desperate spirits
the unyielding shades of phantoms
languishing
decayed
desperately resisting the final wisp into nothingness
the dark trees brushed and swayed
in the eternal night breeze
their woody flesh not knowing the icy sting
of a thousand deadly touches

from out the mist came a glimmer
and then a fluttering radiance
metallic, white, and gold
the size of a hummingbird
but the wings of a moth
broad and delicate
it was a sylph
a magical creature
ancient beyond ancient
a member of the race of fairies
the vampire observed it
flashing from behind the dark leaves of rustling graveyard trees
the sylph didn't notice him
it fluttered freely among the invisible phantoms
bringing an element of beauty and distraction
to the otherwise tortured spirits

the vampire still waited
the sylph was a creature of light
but he owned the night
he crouched behind a gravestone

then, a shrill wind blew the sylph
it tumbled down from the black tree
the vampire lunged
a quick, silent, terrible lunge
and his harsh nails grasped the delicate creature
it screamed pitifully, desperately
he stood up straight now
his aweful robes blowing in the wind
"ha! got you!" he gloated
knowing that sylph wings are a magical ingredient for evil potions
he viciously ripped off one wing
and then the other
then he dropped the sylph like so much useless refuse
the sylph staggered on the ground
blood streaming down its back and little legs
the sylph souted:
"you are vile and corrupt, and you will come to a bad end!"
the vampire just laughed
not wanting to take any more lip from the little varmint
he stamped on it with a cuel shoe
and the sylph was no more

the vampire returned to his castle
its many black towers jutted up into the moonlit sky
he was truely the master of evil
and he wasted no time
using the precious little sylph-wings
for brewing a terrible potion
i say terrible
because such a potion can only come from an evil deed
and nothing but further evil can come from it
the vampire sipped his sylph-tea in complete satisfaction
the corrupt creature!

but what the vampire didn't realize
is that the little sylph was park of a folk
the fairy folk
and this meant more than merely being of the race of fairies
or even of the race of sylphs

the fairies of the prosperous wood
knew what had happened to the little sylph
the trees told them
the spirits told them
they even heard from a dimension beyond
the dimension in which the sylph had been born
there was all manner of life in the world
all kinds of voices
of which even the vampire was unaware

when the fairy folk came
they came at night
not because of any particular reason
they just didn't care either way
the fauns came
the nymphs came
so did the dryads
the sprites
the leprechauns...
the centaurs came
wielding terrible maces
the unicorns came
and so did the pixies
all of them came to the vampire's evil castle

the centaurs and unicorns began beating on the decayed old door
the pixies used their fiery magic to saw through the cold bars of the portcullis
the fairies came crashing in
through smoke and fire
pushing thier way through
into the castle
like a wave of pale-blue magic
into the dark den of pure evil
they sparkled like a whirling vortex of stars
against the blackness, angry
in the courtyard, a faun shouted
"feel our wrath, for it is great indeed!"

the vampire heard this
and he knew he was in trouble
he immediately made his way though a maze of hallways
he came to the airy bridge between the main building and the highest of the towers
it was a rope and wooden bridge
and, using oil and a torch, he set fire to it as he crossed
before long, he was at the top of the terrible tower

the fairies were awe-struck by the evil of what they saw
birds, cooped up in little wooden cages
or in boxes
glassware everywhere
good spirits were bottled up in flasks of various design
books of evil were strewn about
many of them opened
their pages revealing evil knowledge
the whole place was bathed in a pale, unnatural light
blood-stained tapestries hung from the walls
there were murals depicting deeds of unimaginable cruelty
men impaled on sticks
and also conquests
beheadings
and there were skeletons
the vampire had been collecting the skeletons of strange creatures

but the fairies didn't delay long
they knocked all the bottles off their shelves
they came crashing down, breaking, shattering
freeing the spirits within
leaving only glass shards behind
they smashed the monstrous skeletons
the pixies tipped over the bookcases
threw the rest of the books onto the pile
and set it ablaze
their dark silhouettes then danced around this fire
singing a song that could be heard throughout the castle
as the rest of the fairies continued their onslaught
the fauns pulled down the tapestries
and put them to the torch
the fairies smashed all the candles and caldelabras
pulled down the chandeliers
and overturned all the furniture
they sacked the vampire's master bedroom
the sight of so many horrific feedings
and left it a heap of burning ruins

the vampire wasn't too afraid though
after all, he had burned the bridge to the tower
there was no way in
he locked the door anyway, however
he had outlived disasters before
and this one, he figured, would be no different
the smell of smoke was wafting in from the window...

suddenly, there was a tremendous thud
the vampire's door broke off its hinges
and it fell inwards
"how did they get in?" he thought, in astonishement
leading the way was a sweet nymph
a woman's form, white robes flowing
chains of magical daffodils trailing her gracious movements
the vampire didn't move
he just stood there staring
then, the sweet nymph socked him square in the mouth
knocking out one of his fangs
he turned around
someone grabbed him by the shoulders
the next thing he knew
a unicorn was impaling him through the heart
at the same time
a leprechaun stabbed him in the throat
and the vampire was no more

he convulsed on the ground
the evil energy that drove him
not wanting to give up his long-dead body

then, the fairies simply left
they went back to thier woods
and back to their normal lives
and the vampire was soon forgotten completely


------------------------


the little sylph was left reeling from his encounter with the horrible vampire
he was mutilated
his precious wings
gone
he walked with tiny strides, over to a gravestone
and sat the night away
his head resting on his knees
too shocked even to sob
he became part of the general sorrow of the place
until there was dawn
and all others of his kind had surely gone back to their abodes
and he was left there, in the graveyard
but, still alive
there was nothing left to do but walk
and his tiny legs carried him step by step out of the graveyard
and into town

the people of the town looked at him as he passed
the little guy unrecognizable as a sylph
his magical radiance, gone
his wings, missing
they didnt even know they were looking at a fairy
elusive, ancient, magical in essence

the sylph did what he had to do
and went to the apothecary
the apothecary saw him come in the door
and stared in wonder
was it a bird? - a bug?
then the little sylph spoke:
"i need a healing balm
i have lost my wings
and have blood and pain in my back"
the apothecary fetched a potion to promote healing
and another potion against pain
but they would be far too big for the sylph to carry
so he poured a tiny amount of each
into two pitted olives
and handed these to the sylph
the sylph drank
soon, he felt much better
he produced a pale sapphire to pay the apothecary
the apothecary said
"but sir, this is far too much payment for the tiny amount of potion you have consumed"
the sylph responded
"accept it, and be my liason to the human world from now on"
the apothecary agreed, and took the glimmering sapphire
he examined it
it was beautiful
like a piece of the sky on a radiant day
the sylph spoke:
"i need advice
to whom do i go get advice on the great questions of life?"
the apothecary directed him to the priests
and the little sylph made his way to the temple forthwith

the priests were astonished to see the tiny creature enter the building
they knew instantly that this was no bird or bug
they immediately guessed that it was some kind of fairy
the sylph spoke:
"I have been robbed of my wings
and that means more than being robbed of flight
i once had the happiness of butterflies and soap bubbles
now i am to spend an eternity on the ground with the beetles and the snakes
it means i can no longer be with my people
who are a people of flutterers, and joyful
now all my joy is with a vampire
who is enjoying an evil potion, made of my wings
he has stolen my magic
and left me to rot on the ground
where i will surely be captured or eaten or crushed
how am i to go on?"
the priests answered that god made free will
and that's why there's so much evil in the world
they said that the sylph would get his wings back in the next world
in heaven
while the vampire would be punished
when he finally does make his journey into the next world

the sylph returned to the apothecary
he told the apothecary:
"your priests have not consoled me
maybe there is justice in the afterlife
maybe there is no afterlife
how can they be so sure?
maybe there is, maybe there isn't
i'm not consoled
and how can a perfect god make free will
that is as evil and corrupt as that of the vampire
the vampire has free will, to be certain
but it is not tempred by any moral sense
why would a perfect god give some beings a moral sense and others no sense at all?"
the apothecary responded:
"it has been said
that corrupt people, like the vampire
are here to test those of us who do have a moral sense
through trauma and hardship, they cause us to express ourselves more completely
it has revealed something about you, for example, that you have lost your wings
your reaction to it
and what you make of the rest of your life
are degrees of self expression
that would never have existed on earth had it not been for the presence of the vampire's corruption
is this making any sense?"
the sylph answered:
"so now that the happiness of butterflies and soap bubbles is denied me
i can show what i'm really made of"
he thought for a minute
"maybe i will devote the rest of my life to revenging myself on the vampire"
the apothecary answered:
"a wise man once said
that nothing truely bad can ever happen to you
if your soul remains true
life is fleeting
death and injustice can happen to anyone
these things are just a part of a life that's fleeting anyway
what counts is that you don't let anything corrupt your soul
for that is the only real tragedy"

part of the sylph took this message to heart
and some say that he spent the rest of his days
playing on a little flute
a song of lament
which could sometimes be heard
from the woods where he made his home
and sometimes he would venture into town
and talk with the apothecary and the philosophers
about how living and nonliving matter are related
how the universe is like a complex watch, set in motion
about how every being can be developed though education
and so forth
until finally one day, the little sylph was in the wrong place at the wrong time
and he was devoured by a snake

part of the sylph rejected this message
and each day
his heart was filled with hate
and thoughts of nothing but revenge for his hard fate
and in this part of his life, his story continued

the fairy folk would not help him revenge himself on the vampire
they offered him sympathy
they offered him friendship and companionship and company
they offered him a life of relative protection
but revenge - no
so the little sylph burned with rage against them too

he taught himself how to cross dimensions without wings
this took him a long time indeed
he would appear in the sylph-world
broken and malevolent
but strangely powerful and attention-grabbing
the other sylphs had never seen any one of their kind like this before
and he would speak like a great prophet
"the will to life is the will to power" - he would say
he would say that sylphs are superior to all other fairies
and that they shouldn't even be counted among the fairy-folk
finally he conjured up images
some of them real
some of them imagined
of sylphs in cages
being killed
used in horrible experiments
mutilated, like himself
and it was more than just the vampire doing it
it was humans, it was pixies
and the other fairies
the dryads
the nymphs
the leprechauns
the centaurs
the unicorns
all of them - didn't care
most of the sylphs rejected this propaganda
but enough of them boiled with rage
that the sylph soon recruited a small army of his own kind

the pixies were frolicking around a ring of giant mushrooms
sparkling, in the pale light of the dark night
when they were suddenly attacked
"we're going to kill you all" - came the shout of a sylph
the pixies suffered dozens of burns and bites
to their delicate skin
swatting desperately, but having to protect their eyes and ears
they scattered, screeching very unpleasantly
into the dark woods

the sylphs now had ranks
one was the captain
several were lieutenants
the rest were little warriors
they were all male
and they had all gotten in touch with their ancient warrior ancestry

next, they made their way to the vampire's castle
they flew over the wall
and right into his bedroom window
they attacked him without mercy
they burned his eyes, blinding him
then, they ransacked the castle
toppling all the glassware
ripping down the tapestries, the chandeliers, the candles
their mission accomplished
they simply left
and the vampire deserted his now blinded mortal body
and became a shade
powerless
haunting the old castle

the little wingless sylph was satisfied
his revenge complete
the vampire was no more
and he lived out his days, talking philosophy and magic
with mages and sages
and playing the flute
only now his song was one of triumph
for he had taken advantage of the sensibilities of his fellow sylphs
made them warriors, mad for vengeance
it was he who had slain the vampire
and, for good measure, taught those usless pixies a lesson
yes, indeed, he had triumphed
and he lived out his life in relative satisfaction
but, as a consequence of his actions
he tore a permanent rift across the fairy world
henceforth, pixies and sylphs would be enemies
and they would compete for the exclusive friendship of the other fairy beings
and the fairies were desperately weakened as a folk
and this would prove nearly fatal to all magical beings
when the skull-king's mob came to the prosperous woods
but that is another story

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