Inferno

T H Ø R N

7. M I R A

      I'm in between sleep and consciousness. Indulging, in the comfort of a warm bed engulfed in soft covers. Delighted, by the tranquil hours of a new morning. A rich fragrance envelops the warm air and curls around me, invading my senses.

      There is a flutter of wings that pitter patter incessantly. I am not ready to wake, so with a groan I turn to my side, pulling the covers to my neck.

      For a few moments, the buzz quiets, until it intensifies pulsing right by my ear. Mindlessly, my hand waves through the air until my skin brushes soft velvet. There is a muffled cry, as something falls with a thump on my blanket.

      Everything is hushed, and I am pulled back into a calm sleep. That is until something brushes my face, tickling me.

      Tiny claws wriggle against the tip of my nose, not stopping until I awaken. Finally, I am extracted from drowsiness, my eyes blink open.

      A Sprite, the size of my index fingers, sits on my nose with a smile. My eyes widen like saucers, as a shocked gasp leaves my lips.

      The Sprite waves at me, with a green hand. Her small body is a mix of rose petal and stem, while her hair is made of jagged thorn. The features of her face are almost human like, with shining red eyes, a pixie nose, and green lips.

      I can't help it, a sneeze freezes my head. Before I can stop it, or warn her, it ricochets through me sending her flying.

      Thankfully, she's quick to unfurl her clear wings. Before her body can hit the wall, she manipulates the air.

      I sit up as I watch the rose creature mimic the flight of a butterfly. She zooms in the air back to me waving her hands in anger. A small twinkling voice shouts at me, a jumble of incoherent sounds. Her hands are moving fast, pointing every which way as she expresses her irritation.

      I don't blame her, I imagine being tossed into a wall at any size, let alone her's would be detrimental.

      "I am so sorry," I plead with her. But the saucy thing doesn't listen, she sticks out her tongue at me and flies away, through the door of my bedroom and down the Church hall.

      I am a second too late to follow her, and in my haste I entangle my legs in the bedspread. They twist around me like a serpent.

"Wait!" I shout after her, just as I fall to the floor. I am wide awake now as crisp tile presses against my face. "Please wait!" I shove the covers away from my body, and chase after her.

"I didn't mean to hurt you." My words echo off the halls as I sprint after her. She's headed for the prayer area and disappears around the corner. Panic overwhelms me, I don't want her to leave.

      I round the corner and come to a stop as I stand by the organ.

      The damaged ceiling has opened passage to the rain that falls heavily from the heavens. Endless drops cascade to the floor. The Church doors are wide open, and I start for them. This weather wouldn't be good for the Sprite, she'd drown in the rain.

      A small sound calls out to me from beneath the shattered dome ceiling. I turn towards it and see the rose fairy struggling on the floor among shards of glass. Just as I suspected, the water is too much for her wings to bear. She's fallen, her body withers under the harsh rain.

      I rush to her, mindful of the broken glass around us. Rain washes over me. Had it not been for her, I would have turned my face towards the sky and relished in the water. That will be for another day I think, as I kneel to scoop her in my hands. Her body is shivering as she tries to shake off the water.

      I sit on a pew that is far from the pouring rain. Using the softest of touch I pat her body dry with the front of my black dress. The Sprite sniffles before looking up at me.

"It's alright, you're going to be fine." I comfort her, "the rain will pass over soon." I dab at her flesh with easy strokes. My brows knit together in wonder. "Where did you come from?" I ask out loud.

      My fingers move over her body, and accidentally I prick my finger on her head of thorns. I hiss pulling my hand back. Just like yesterday, my skin is pierced in the same spot. A drop of gold blood wells up on my finger and my gaze from it doesn't waver, as the cogs in my mind turn.

      I don't want to voice what I'm thinking, the thought of it worries me. My eyes find the statue of the man who I've dubbed Father. His pensive eyes finds me, as I stare into them all I can hear is the rain shower. I don't want to play God. But if what I'm thinking is true, then this is beyond my comprehension. My blood couldn't have possibly given life to the rose, there's no way. However, not everything is logical in this unforgivable world. My brows knit together, I'll only know for sure when I go out to the garden.

      The Sprite shakes water from her hair, sending small droplets sprinkling on my palm. My attention shifts to her and I smile, as she stands. Her tapered wings are put to the test, as she finds her rhythm of gliding. She twists in a spin, simply grateful her wings didn't break. She comes up to my face, bobbing in the air.

"Well, I think introductions are in order." I say, "My name is Mira, what's yours?"

      The Sprite tilts her face up, drumming her fingers on her cheeks. She's lost in thought, before her lips part in a sigh.

"That's alright, we can give you a name. Huh, I suspect Rose would be too cliche?" I ask, she rolls her eyes at me in reply! I laugh. "Then how about Thorn? Seems quite fitting."

      Her arms engulf the bridge of my nose in what seems to be a hug. And that is my only indication that she likes the name. Thorn, it is.