Mystica was concerned for the little fairy she’d named Rose. Rose was only four years old. And she would just wander off into the forest every now and then. Several days a week. And she’d be gone for several hours. Mystica knew the forest could be a dangerous place. There were wild animals all through it. Including wolves. But always, Rose came back. And always, Rose was safe, and sound. Completely unharmed. And never afraid.
Mystica knew that Rose was gifted with wild magic. But she didn’t know what kind. All she knew was that she’d found Rose in the foothills of the mountains. Where she’d been abandoned by the people of the village that she lived in. Why she’d been abandoned was something Mystica had never learned. She only knew that Rose and her wild magic had never hurt anyone. So she couldn’t understand why the people of her village had considered her a threat. Why they had abandoned her.
She spoke with Merlin, and Whisper one day. And asked them if they could play with Sunshine, Dream, and Musica, while she checked on little Rose. Whisper and Merlin had agreed. Merlin had even used his black magic to call the dragon Scream, and request that Scream come help with the little fairy girls. He could play games with them, and let them hide under his wings.
So it was agreed that on the next day Rose wandered away into the trees, Mystica used her magic to fly across the lake to her home on the lakes western edge. She sat on a branch of a tree that hung over the lake. So close to the water that while she sat on the branch, she could run her toes through the water of the lake. Leaving little trails on its surface.
As she sat down on the branch, Mystica looked at the surface of the lake, and she spoke so softly, in a calm and quiet voice, “Show me the little fairy Rose.” Then she waited, and watched, as on the surface of the lake, there appeared an image of the little fairy Rose. She was walking through the forest. As if she knew exactly where she was going. And every now and then, Rose would use her young wings to help on her journey. Mystica was very much surprised to see Rose already starting to fly. She’d never know a 4 year old fairy that could do that. Fairies almost never really took to the sky until they were 7 or maybe 8. And they always had a hard time learning to land.
But there was Rose. Flying at age 4. Imagine that. Mystica smiled as she watched her little Rose make her way through the forest. Using her wings to get past all the obstacles she came across. That’s when the white magic showed her a wolf pack that was just ahead of Rose. Mystica’s heart beat faster at the thought of the fairy Rose being attacked by a pack of wolves. She quickly got to her feet, and prepared to use her magic to help her get to Rose’s side. So she could protect her from the wolves.
Imagine her surprise when Rose walked right into the middle of the wolves. Scratching each of them behind their ears as she laughed, and smiled at them. The wolves gathered around her, in a little circle. And Rose closed her eyes, and held her two hands out, in front of her. As if she were making a cup with them, so that she could hold something up. Mystica stopped, and watched the images as they played out on the lake. She watched as a beautiful rose bloom took shape in the palms of Rose’s hands. It was a pure white rose. One of the most stunning rose blooms that Mystica had ever seen.
Rose took that rose, held in her hands, and walked up to one of the wolves. Somehow, Mystica knew that the wolf was the Alpha Wolf of the pack. Rose smiled at the wolf, and then placed the rose on the top of the wolf’s head. Right between his ears.
The wolf licked Rose’s face with pure affection. And rubbed his nose against her cheek. Rose giggled. And the wolves then resumed their walk through the forest. Rose blew a kiss at them, and then she wished them well on their journey that day.
Mystica stood there. On the branch of the tree. Staring at the images the white magic displayed to her on the surface of the lake. She’d just seen the first glimpse of the wild magic that Rose had been blessed with. She knew that. But she didn’t know yet what that magic was. Or what Rose was capable of. So, she stood there, and watched the images upon the lake, wondering what things she would see next.
Rose had continued her journey into the forest. For a little more. That’s when she came into a clearing. A clearing filled with wild roses. Hundreds of them. Maybe even thousands. It was as if life itself had turned a plain field of grasses and weeds, and a bit of dirt, into a painting of a thousand different colors and shades of velvet rose blossoms. She watched as Rose entered the clearing, and the ocean of roses simply parted, and let her walk among them. Not a single thorn scratched Rose at all. And Rose. She walked slowly through the roses, speaking to them as if they were her friends. “How are you today, dear friend? Is there something I can do for you? No. You don’t have to do anything for me. I’m happy just to see the colors and the beauty of your blooms.”
Rose walked into that rose garden, there in that little clearing in the forest. And in the middle of that place, Rose stopped. In front of her was a boulder. A big one at that. Mystica watched as Rose ran her hands over the surface of that boulder. Using her wings to hover so that she could reach the top of the boulder. That she could fly had been a big enough surprise. But that Rose could hover, and control her flight so very well. Oh, my. Mystica found she had no words for that.
That was when she realized that Rose was tracing out a shape in that boulder. The white magic showed her where Rose’s hands had touched the boulder’s surface. And that trail took shape, until Mystica realized she was looking a the shape of a crescent moon, left upon the surface of that boulder.
Rose stayed there in that clearing, surrounded by roses, for only an hour. She sat on that boulder for a while. Several birds had flown into the clearing, and landed on the boulder next to Rose. She’d made little rose blooms for each of them. In colors ranging from pure white to a deep dark velvet red.
Then Rose had gotten to her feet, and used her wings again to fly out of the clearing, and back into the trees. Mystica watched, very much amazed, at the way that Rose could retrace the trail she’d taken through the trees. It wasn’t marked in any way at all.
When Rose had walked out of the trees, back into the clearing on the eastern edge of the lake, Mystica had taken flight, landing in the clearing next to Rose. “Dear Rose. You didn’t tell me you could fly. Or that you could make friends with the wolves.”
Rose had smiled. She’d reached up and held Mystica’s hand. “They just wanted someone to be their friend.”
Mystica then realized what Rose’s wild magic gift was. Little Rose could touch the heart of anything alive. She could reach past anger. Reach past fear. Reach past everything, right to another’s heart. Where she could then plant a garden in the soul. It was a special gift indeed. One that could sooth the ache of another’s heart. One that could dry the tears another’s soul cried.
It was why the villagers had abandoned her. They would have thought she was a witch. Able to get others to do whatever she wished. And she probably could do just that, if the light within her heart turned black. And she’d probably done that in the village where she’d lived. Just to get things she’d wanted. To get people to pay attention to her. So she would never have to be alone.
Mystica knew that the white magic had named little Rose well. For she was just like a wild rose. So very beautiful to behold. And yet, filled with so very many thorns.
Mystica reached down, and took Rose’s little hand, and walked with her to the edge of the lake. And there, they joined Sunshine, and Musica, and Dream. And they all played games with Whisper, Merlin, and Scream. Ending with a fun swim in the water of the lake. Followed by a picnic dinner on the grass of the clearing. And then they all sang as Musica played a little song on her flute. Then Mystica and Whisper helped the little fairies get to bed. Each of them in their own little houses that the trees had formed for them.
And as Mystica had tucked Rose into her bed that night, Rose had hugged her neck. “Mommy. I love you. Thank you for taking care of me.” And then she looked in Mystica’s eyes, “Mommy. I never meant to hurt anyone. I never did. I promise I’ll try very hard to not hurt anyone again,” as tears fell from little Rose’s eyes. “I don’t know what I did that hurt anyone at all. I really don’t.”
Mystica held little Rose. Hugging her so gently for a while. “My little Rose. Dear child. I know you didn’t mean to hurt anyone at all. You don’t have to be afraid here, of hurting anyone. I know the gifts that you’ve been blessed with. And I’m going to help you learn how to not hurt anyone.”
Once Rose’s tears had dried, Mystica had tucked her into bed. And then kissed the top of her little head. “Good night, my little Rose. Good night.” And then she watched as Rose had closed her eyes, and fallen fast asleep.
As she returned to her house, above the lake, Mystica had stopped, and stood outside, in the dark of the night for a little while. Looking at the reflections of the stars up in the sky on the mirror like surface of the lake. “It’s quite a gift the wild magic has given you, dear child.”
She then wondered for a while just how to take care of a wild rose without harming it.
“This is going to take some time, isn’t it?” she asked of the sky.
Then Mystica went inside, undressed, and went to bed. Where she dreamed of gardens of wild roses through the night.