RAVEL. Chapter 1. WONDERLUST

“You are so lovable and lovely,” quoth the lamplighter. 

She always heard such sweet words.

She loved all these fisherpeople, artisans and carters as if they were her kindred.

She adored light of woods as if she was a doe.

She peered into the bice of the lake, for she relished life, all noons and mornings, gloamings, and starrified canopies of skies.

“So effortless… Eyesweet flower…” quoth the old boatwoman once when the young lady sauntered by.

“Yet she is not happy,” the traveling merchant admonished quietly. 

The rambling lass was looking as if she had all the time in the world.

“Why?” a boatwoman’s question was asked almost in silence.

“She’s lacking something…” the merchant whispered, touching his top hat.     

She was yearning something.

It was the hidden part of her past.

The young lady had been told a bizarre story when she was fifteen. Though it was not plausible, she believed.

Leastways, Livinia’s mother was telling once that Livinia’s life was saved by fairies shortly after the girl turned four years old. Sure, it was creepy and strange, amusingly touching. Nevertheless, Li’s mother had known the leverage to hint that it was something bigger than a joke.  

It was told twice or thrice, backed by all aunts and grannies. While Li’s pa, grandfather and both older siblings nodded with barely noticeable smiles, hearing it again and again.

Alas, Li didn’t remember first five years of her life. Thus, lack of details was stoking her weird lust.

So, like a flower growing inward, the new feeling was arising through Li’s nature. In truth, it was dulcet. 

Being touched by those odd things she was to ponder upon.

Meantime, she took pleasure in the garland of days and weeks.

The springing of the year followed thawing of snowtime.

Then, came the vernal virginity, being followed by the mellow times, lush brushes of trees and juicy flowers.

Thereafter, Livinia’s places were covered by the cupola of ripe summer, timeless days, ardence, and tepid nights. Those relishes were so deciduous.

Yet, one moment, a fleeting garland was halted. Once upon a late vesper, she saw a flow of veiled figures. There was something mournful about them. Livinia felt sorrow.

She approached them.

Sure, some of them noticed a young lady behind, glancing at her calmly and kind.

“Night is coming,” quoth the tallest young man.

“I love nights,” she answered and shrugged.

As always, Li walked with the finest lamp. The oily heart of fire was gleaming behind the glass walls inside the refined cage made of a dark metal.    

“Whence are you going?” she asked without well-hidden passion.

“I see your lust to know,” elder man stated.

“My night my dreams,” quoth Livinia with all girl’s grandeur.

“Beware the deep places of dreams,” another coated woman admonished. “Dreams deceive.”

“But whence are you going?” Li was so tenacious as always.

“Let it be a riddle if you like riddles,” elder answered and guessed right.

In a nutshell, she loved mazes of trees and words. It was Livinia’s way to feel something she had forgotten.

Suddenly, she felt somewhat by then.

Whatever it could be, it was a gist about her. Something lurking above heads of trees.

“Fairies…? You have found me…” Li whispered with lust.

Whether it was her own game or not, she believed in someone’s presence nearby.

The strangers had gone afar, and thus she was alone among old pines and firs.

“I feel you since I wish,” she muttered so plucky.

“No,” it was a voice of flow.

“Talk to me!” Li was entreating.

“Am I a fairy?” the gist whispered.

“I don’t know,” young lady shrugged.

“Are fairies kind?”

“You know better,” she was confident.

Li didn’t see the entity, yet she knew it was still here.

“Should you be happy to find them?” the gist asked quietly.

“They are said to save my life…” quoth Li.

“It is a tale.”

“It is my story. And I have never heard a tale such as this.”

Wood had been blackened by night.

Livinia looked up to see the scattered stars peering at her from the vault of dark heaven. After all, it was her time, her dreams and moments.

“Does your folk have many tales?” the gist asked her.

“Yes,” her answer was as short as summer grass.

But wind, or water, or whatever else, wasn’t saying anything more.

“Some tales are well-known… here and there…” Li whispered. “By the bye, many people know the story of Stone, the boy who lost himself… Swan, the girl who lost her kin… and… Swallow… someone another… who lost all humankind...”

Young lady set back the storytelling. Livinia called to remembrance.

By the way, the light of her lamp had ebbed away, and only a spark remained.

“Swan gave a part of hers to save Stone… And Stone… He gave his kindred to save the all of us… While… Swallow… So, he gave nothing. Hence, he was the abyss inside the satchel… bedless bottom of the worlds…”

She was a poor teller, since she was lusty.

Livinia didn’t divide life and dreams.

Li fell asleep under the sway of the wonderlust.

She was yearning wonders, whereas her night dreams were full of familiar places and ramblings. Perhaps, there were no things from Beyond.

Again, she awakened.

The sun came like the gold through the manes of the pine woodland, and Li felt as if she was in bedheaven. Here, she was reclining on the someone’s cloak which was forgotten at the rocklets of miniature waterfall.

There were only her and her jittery creatures of thoughts.

Young lady was peering at herself mirrored by lucent water. Graceful beauteous features touched by scattered freckles. Hair, golden like wheat of those fields betwixt pinewoods and lake. And azure eyes, lucent, enlightened.  

Livinia was permeated with light. And she was believed to be created by sun.

Meanwhile, she wished to be created by fairies. 

MAXiM VAZANOV, 2024