The Power of Belief – Selected Entries from Dragonfly’s Journal

The Power of Belief – Selected Entries from Dragonfly’s Journal

May 1, 1025

I am called Dragonfly. I learned to write like this and reckon time from a hermit monk, many years ago. I find writing out my thoughts and memories soothing.

My sisters, Dimpleflame, Redwillow and Butterfly tease me about this habit, but I feel someone should record what we do. Creating parchment and ink is easy, and perhaps someday, someone will find this chamber and read what I write.

June 30, 1608

I fear our companions are losing their belief in us. More and more, they turn away from the old ways. Some of us have lost our abilities to aid and comfort them because of this.

When that happens, our kind passes through the Mists and goes home to Tír na nÓg. This takes a portion of Magic away from this world, leaving a void where there once was a sense of light and wonder.

I hope this does not continue. Magic is now weaker in many places, and I fear it will become weaker still. It will be a cold and bleak world if it does.

August 30, 1785

It did no good to argue. Our cousins in the Ring at the place the Humans call Avebury have decided to go back to Tir na nÓg. They are so few of us left here on the Misty Isle and Magic has almost disappeared completely. My sisters and I have discussed what to do, and have decided that someone should stay. It will be a lonely existence for us, but we will await the return of Belief. We must have hope! No matter how long it takes, we will be here as stewards to the Land.

September 24, 1956

I now know for certain that we are the last of our kind in this world. So many places have become deserted ruins. One by one at first, then dozens at a time, our fellows faded away to Tír na nÓg. Even the age-old Rings, that our companions call ‘henges’ or ‘standing stones’, no longer hold any of our kind.

Our home was once a place of high power. We four cling to these tumbled stones and desolate mounds, awaiting our chance to serve. We stubbornly resist the call to join our fellows and hope against hope that our companions will return and believe again.

This place was set like a jewel on the shore of a lake surrounded by oak, ash and beech forests. There was a castle with four tall towers and windows that sparkled with candlelight in the night like the Pleiades itself. The gardens were places of calm and joy, even under winter’s blanket of snow.

The lake is still here, though its Lady no longer lives in its depths. The forests still exist, gently wrapping the surrounding hills. The local people say this place is ‘haunted’. My sisters and I have never understood why anyone should fear us.

We are stewards to this patch of the world. We aided our companions. We cared for the land and still do our best. Now we four live under the mounds that are all that’s left, awaiting whatever Arianrhod, She of the Silver Wheel, Ancient and Revered Goddess of Fate, brings us.

June 28, 2020

I think the man who pitched a small tent near the lakeshore on the afternoon of Grianstad, the summer solstice, might be part of Arianrhod’s plan for us. We all ventured out and watched him while he tended his small campfire. He may have seen us. He smiled when he did — if he did.

He may well be the one we have awaited. Oh, he does not hold full belief, but perhaps, in his heart, he carries the willingness to believe. Redwillow and Butterfly cautioned me to wait and see. They say we have been disappointed so often over the centuries it is hard to hold to hope anymore.

It is hard — but I will hope for his return.

April 25, 2029

The man returned! And brought his wife and two young children in a caravan pulled by one of the smelly, noisy things they call lorries or trucks. It is a good thing the old tales about our objection to iron are not true.

April 26, 2029

We overheard the man and woman talking. Her name is Siobhan, and she calls him ‘Luv’, though his name is Liam. Some of the things they said were difficult for us to comprehend. I understand that Liam is an author, but I don’t know what a ‘bestseller’ is. Whatever it is, it seems to be something that will allow him and his family to contemplate making their home here. At least that is what Liam told her.

Liam left some of his papers and things out, and I read some of his writing while they slept. It is possible the writings he calls ‘fantasy’ — his wife teases him and calls them ‘fairy tales’ — might be about our kind! There are even a few phrases that may be actual castings written out in several of his stories. I am going to use one of them to set a beacon that calls out to our cousins. Redwillow has already taken a message to the Fae Council about this.

If the man and his family choose to stay, and the castings work, we may be able to call some of our cousins back from Tír na nÓg. Even the Lady might deign to return to the lake.

June 12, 2029

My hopes grow stronger. People have arrived with machines and tools to build a house near the man’s caravan. It will not be as large as the castle that was here, but it will be a home where my sisters and I can dwell, along with the man and his family.

They are even unknowingly using stones from the old castle in the foundation and walls. That will surely strengthen our link to the new house, and help us act as our natural urges press us. We will go slowly, working by night for now. We do not want to startle or frighten them and have them change their minds about living here.

July 15, 2029

I am sure Liam has seen and heard us! He has accepted our presence without fear. He nodded a friendly greeting to me last night as I passed him while the others slept.

Liam’s wife, Siobhan, enrolled the children, Robbie and Rebecca, at the local school to start in the autumn. They know full well we are here. Their belief, and now their father’s, has allowed us to regain much of our powers and abilities. Robbie, the older child, plays hide-and-seek and tag with us, and Rebecca asks Redwillow for songs or stories after her parents have put her to bed.

July 20, 2029

Siobhan is an author too. She seems puzzled by our aid. Dimpleflame and I giggled at the startled look on her face the first time we provided breakfast. I think she heard us, even though we had hidden ourselves behind the flour and sugar canisters on one of the cupboard shelves. When she asked Liam about it, he only smiled and told her old caravans can make any number of odd noises, and to accept the meal as a gift. When Redwillow and Butterfly grew rosebushes beside their caravan overnight, a few days later, she simply shrugged and accepted it.

She has even begun placing a saucer of milk out for us at night. She told Liam she does not know why, but remembers her grandmother doing the same thing. She said she might be superstitious, but thinks something will appreciate it.

Perhaps a cup of tea that appears while she works at her own writing, or reads a book, might ease the discovery of our presence for her.

March 30, 2030

The house is complete. The old caravan is to be pulled away and our companions will move into their new home beginning tomorrow. Redwillow and Butterfly thoroughly enjoyed helping the family plant the garden beside the house. They laughed and sang along with my sisters’ music while they worked. I think the garden will be beautiful when all is in bloom.

April 3, 2030

Our family of companions spent a busy but pleasant two days moving in. We helped with some small things. Redwillow and Butterfly neatly arranged the children’s small toys in their rooms, knowing full well the neatness would not last long. Dimpleflame helped Siobhan arrange the kitchen. Because I consider myself a ‘writer’ like him, I assisted Liam with the arrangement of the books in the room he calls his ‘study’. I have read some of Liam’s writings again and confirmed that some of his phrases are castings.

The house is a marvel to my sisters and me. It is much smaller than the old castle, but it is warm and comfortable, even though it has only one fireplace used on ‘special occasions’. There are spaces behind the walls where my sisters and I can move from room-to-room unseen, when we wish. It makes aiding our companions much easier. We will miss lighting the candles as we used to, but the new lights are bright and require less care. The cooking thing takes no wood and never requires tending beyond simple cleaning and care about burning the food. My sisters, even Dimpleflame who is so stubborn, agree with me that this will be a truly joyful home with our aid.

If we can find some way to convince the locals this place is not ‘haunted’, perhaps we can spread the influence of our kind. If so, some of our relatives and fellows might return. Oh, how I hope even the Lady might return to the lake.

June 24, 2030

Oh, joyful day! She returned! The Lady felt our new family’s belief all the way from Tír na nÓg. She heard our call and came back through the Mists to the lake. She blessed my sisters and I when we greeted her when She arrived at midnight on the Solstice.

Her influence spreads and grows like grass in the Spring. The lake is coming alive as it was of old. The wildlife — deer and rabbit, fox and stoat — has come back to the forest, drinking from the waters. She said She will call the others back if this continues to become a welcoming place of belief in our kind. It will be wonderful when the dryads return to the forests and the naiads return to the little streams that feed the lake.

July 8, 2030

Our companions met the Lady on the shore yesterday, while Liam laboured at making a dock for a little rowboat he intends to purchase. The Lady is an imperious presence, and it can be startling when she rises in her beauty from the waters. The adults were a little afraid at first, keeping themselves protectively between the Lady and the children.

The Lady spoke to them in a friendly manner and soon put them at their ease. While the adults worked, She played with the children, splashing in the shallows and laughing with them while they chased frogs, all while keeping them away from deeper water. Siobhan watched closely for a while, but relented and joined them at Robbie and Rebecca’s urging. Liam laughed when she did, saying he was wet enough from setting the pilings, and went back to building the dock.

September 22, 2030

Mea’n Fo’mhair, the autumn equinox is Rebecca’s birthday, and our new family held a party. They invited the children from the local village, along with their parents. There were fifty adults, and at least that many children (it was difficult to keep track).

Dimpleflame baked a truly marvellous layer cake the night before in the shape of the old castle. Redwillow, Butterfly and I hung the colourful decorations in the garden.

Some of the adults are skilled at making music, and played and sang merry songs during the party. The dancing was truly wonderful. Even the Lady deigned to join in one of the circle pavanes.

These country folk are attuned to the spirit of the land and accepting of things which might startle or frighten those in the cities. When the Lady rose from the lake and joined the party in the garden, there was a brief, amazed silence, but her beauty and smiling presence soon soothed any fear. The belief grows strong hereabouts, and perhaps it can spread.

December 24, 2030

At the urging of the Lady, I have decided I will show Liam my writings and translate any I have written in the older languages if required. I think he is one who can appreciate the history of our home. The Lady said this world has spent long enough as a cold and desolate place. It is time that belief in Magic and all it can bring — light, and joy, and wondrous things — comes back.

I am the House Faerie known as Dragonfly, and I gift these writings to any willing to believe in what I know to be true.