The Fae Reroots Herself

Asadora sighed softly when the Amzurad departed. She could not help but to find a commonality between the hardened words of the Amzurad and an event in her past. Surveying the watery garden she fluttered twice as thoughts of old wisdom drifts into her mind:

'It has always been so, and it will always be thus, young fayling. You will gather to share. You will be shown discipline by care-taking of that which sustains you. In order for your essence to blossom, you must help that of which is around you to also blossom.'


She closed her eyes and gathered herself into a seat upon the ground. Her mind overwhelmed her with images that formed into remembered scenes:


'Is that not what sprites and pixies are for? They are far better gatherers than I. They have the...' the young fayling's words paused for a beat as she carefully considered her further words, '...time to spare, whereas I have far better things to accomplish.' She flicked her small wings and when she did tiny feathery molts fell from the wing-tips.
The Elder was not pleased as his face clearly showed it. The young fayling was eager to learn, eager to absorb what knowledge was available, this an admirable trait yet, can hinder to weakness. The Elder sighed deeply and raised his wings high into the air. The span of his wings covering the Luna light which cascaded down around them. 'Fayling Asadora, your question holds no meaning. You will not learn by delegation. You -will- do these things, as you are TrueFae. Life is a fragile balance, if you do not do what others have done before you, you can not follow the True Path, which is your natural birth-right, for you are TrueFae! These things build the beginning of your path, and you will start by clearing the way!'

The Elder then pointed towards the arch made of two giant Willows with branches that were interlinked with one another. Young Asadora lowered her head as she drooped her wings completely into a patch of orchids. Her voice was not able to carry a strong tone and when she opened her mouth to speak, broken words left her lips, 'It has always been so, and it will always be thus, Uncle.' She nodded her head once to him and kept her wings low as she proceeded through the willowed arch-way.
The young fayling knew not to put into question the words of her Uncle. Even though he was her direct kin, he was also a High Elder, which did not afford her any favours.

As the memories began to ease from her mind, she opens her eyes to the present. She raises slowly to perk her wings, surveying around her, forming a plan in her mind. 'It would seem that now is the time of when I return to my roots.' Inspecting a basket of exotic fruit, she picks up a piece, examines it before replacing it into the basket. Knowing what exactly she is to gather, she proceeds with the activity.