Meadows Dance TooMature

Charlie's feet picked up grass as they thundered rapidly through the field, his arms flailing through the air as he laughing with wild happiness. A enthusiastic grin swept across his face as the feel of the cool air splashed against his creamy white pallor. 

Soon, the young boy reach taller grass, almost as tall as he was himself. His fingertips danced with no particular rhythm against the seedy tops, scattering bugs across the meadow as he did so. 

'Fly, Aria! Fly! Fly, fly, fly away so no one will ever catch you one day. You can dance you can sing, but no one can beat the fresh air of spring!' He chanted the song which his bard, Avania, had once sung to him during last winter.

Charlie's soft dull blue-grey hair trailed behind him in short tassels, and his traditional Grenia Kingdom clothing flowed out around him, engulfing his small frame in clouds of lightly floating, fearie-spun material. 

The rush of escaping the place he should call home was far better than any concoction from the elven travelling merchant, Manrah who had often provided his father with many foreign drugs from the Eastern Lands of Meyran. Once, Charlie has breathed in some of the pale pink puffs of smoke that floated out from his father's pipe and had hallucinations about purple, dancing fawns for the rest of the day. He never quite worked out why though.

'Voilette gelrichten quitsier!' He yelled happily. "May my heart finally peak." A well known phrase in Grenia from the ancient language of the Eleventh Tribe. A phrase said when one believed they were finally going to reach the happiest point of their lives.

And this was, indeed, the happiest day of Charlie's life!

As his feet sped up, his sandle's flew off his feet and tumbled back through the the long grass. A couple of seconds later, Charlie noticed he was nearing the Woods of Elefray - somewhere he knew his father could never enter.

His leg muscles ached in protest, but Charlie pressed on, the desire to escape the clutches of his father was far too great to stop now. Finally, finally, he would have the power to control his own life. The come to terms with his own magickal power. 

For thirteen years now, Charlie's magick had been repressed by his father and he would not allow that to happen for one more day. 


'Ouch!' Charlie yelped as he felt his naked feet hit the hard, bark and twig-littered floor of the Elefray Woods. A  fantastic smile broke out on Charlie's face. He shuffled forward, and sank to his knee's. 

A triumphant roar echoed through the trees as Charlie flopped back onto the dirty ground. His face glowing with achievement, it was all he could do not to start weeping joyous tears.

'What on in the name of Wantsor's arse are you doing boy?!' A stunned voice hissed, Charlie opened his eyes to see a large, muscular frame looming over him with scrutinising eyes. 

Charlie, knowing his manners, sprung up and faced the stranger.

'Living.' Charlie said in a mysterious voice. 

The stranger rolled his eyes so heavily Charlie wondered if he'd be able to hear them spinning around in his sockets. 

'I can see that. You don't exactly look like a spirit  to me. You look like Prince Charlsian of Yina City.' He said smoothly.

Charlie froze, 'I'm not.' He said too quickly, shifting in his fearie-spun fabric, trying not to draw attention to his unique blue-gray hair or his dragon scale embroidery. 

'Oh?' The stranger rose his eyebrows, Charlie glanced down at his legs and let out an amazed gasp.

'You're a Avalonian Fawn!' He gushed, 'I only read 'bout you in books!'

'It's true, we are a dying race rarely seen nowerdays.' He gave Charlie a small smile and shrug. 

'Your hooves look... they look...' Charlie struggled for words as he gazed at the creatures legs in utter awe.

'Ugly? Furry? Ungraceful?' The fawn offered.

'Beautiful!' Charlie's dark blue eyes lit up as he beamed at the stranger. The fawn looked quite taken aback at the young prince's forwardness and smiled widely.

'My name is Ava. Ava O'Vista.' He stuck out a hand.

'My name is... um... Dacre!' Charlie invented, 'Dacre Luft.'

'Sure, if you say so.' Ava laughed, unconvinced of Charlie's disguise, 'where are you headed, "Dacre" ?' 

'Any where but here.' He replied. 

The End

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