Morning Song [HOLD]

s i r e n

A small rock positioned by a river was a favorite sleeping location for a young faun boy. A golden harp laced with flowers sat atop it, while the faun slept beside, curled up like a kitten by a fireplace. The harp reflected the morning sunlight, and the reflection shone into the young boy's face, causing him to fidget and stir. His leg began to kick uncontrollably, most likely a nerve reaction, and while he didn't know why it occurred every morning before he woke up, he was aware it happened. Every morning, after his eyes had woken up, he would just stare in awe, before moving his leg and stopping the quivering. He would then sit atop the rock, and pluck at the harp's strings, making what was known throughout the forest as the 'morning's song', and prompted the birds to join his melody. The faun had been called a 'morning harp' (even though he himself was not the harp, he simply played it), and 'harp boy' (he thought that suited him much better).

He liked the warmth of the sun on the back of his neck, and he liked the way the water sparkled every morning. The water nymphs living in the woods seemed to like the sparkles, too, and they often greeted the faun in the morning. He would always smile gently and tell them that he hoped that they had a good day. Sometimes, they'd come to him, saying that sirens had attacked them, or that one of them had disappeared on a full moon night. The faun never liked those stories. He felt like he'd grown to know the nymphs after all, and could refer to all of them by name. Losing one of them felt like losing a family member. But there was no water nymph could be considered family as much as his small fairy companion.

Every morning, before any nymph could come up from the water and greet the faun, a soft light would emanate from behind him, and would completely wake him up. The pink glow made him more attentive, somehow, and while he himself never understood it, he was happy it existed. The light itself came from a fairy woman that had been by the young faun's side for as long as he could remember. He didn't know if he saw her as more of a mother or an older sister, and liked the idea of both. Every morning, he greeted her, and every morning, she responded with her cute, tiny kisses. And what would make this morning any different? The young faun continued to play his peaceful morning song, humming along with the birds as they sang. He felt inexplicably tired, yet he was filled with happiness. Something good was going to happen today, or at least that was what he felt, and his emotions hadn't betrayed him yet.

The pastel lights that his fairy companion gave off had never swirled around him before, and as they did this morning, the faun immediately perked up. He had felt drained but happy, and as the spirals and patterns began to form, the faun felt re-energized. Confusion struck him just as quickly as his rejuvenation, however. He glanced to his fairy companion, who sat atop his shoulder with a proud smile painting her tiny face. "What was that?" the young faun asked, both very curious and slightly concerned. He wasn't even aware she was there that morning, as he hadn't said 'good morning' to her, nor had she kissed him.

"Just a little something I've been practicing. The squirrels have been helping me with it," the fairy explained.

"But, uh... what was it? Was it supposed to do what it did?"

"What did it do?"

"The pretty colors and patterns. I was sort of sleepy and happy—"

"Did you stop being happy? I'm so sorry!"

"No, no! Don't worry about that! I'm lively and happy now!" the faun grinned.

The fairy let out a sigh of relief, "Oh, that's good! I'm so happy it works on big things, too..."

"Huh? How did you even know I was...?"

"...well..." the fairy scratched the back of her neck sheepishly. "I... uh..."