Revolution

      “Get your head outta the clouds kid!” or “Don’t be such a ninny numbkins!” they chided Raphael. “There’s nothing that can be done of it! Be happy with what we have!”

           But Raphael was not happy with it, he wasn’t content. It’s just not fair! Why couldn’t things change? What’s wrong with looking toward the future and hoping it could be changed? Raphael placed his pointed little chin in his cupped hands. Sure the garden they lived in was gorgeous and filled with delicate flowers and enchanted aromas, but there was more. More beyond the wall, the wall dared not crossed. Hidden behind the wall were glittering cherry trees filled with tiny pink and white blossoms, wild fuchsias streaming along cracks in the wall, water lilies drifting merrily atop the shimmering lake, marigolds dancing in the breeze, and the scent of honeysuckle caressing the air. Raphael fluttered his translucent blue wings, imagining himself sailing on a water lily. It’s just not fair! The trolls don’t even like the land beyond the wall, they only use it for hunting. Hunting wayward dwarves and gnomes lost in the beauty and serenity of the land. Squashing fairies like touch-me-not seed pods, laughing with glee as the unlucky pinched fairy exploded in a poof of fairy dust and glitter. It should be fairy land; it is too tranquil and radiant for the likes of those nasty trolls! Raphael sighed. Things could change, he thought, if only someone would take a stand and make a change. “Quit thinking of the future! You’re always talking about the future!” he heard his friends nagging in his head. “Enjoy the now! Who care’s what tomorrow brings!” Raphael cared.

           Raphael stretched; his uneven, jagged black hair fell around his face. His hair was a deep black that shown blue in the sunlight and glittered purple in the moonlight. Someone had to make a change and that someone was him. He looked down at his silk tunic. Hmmm, perhaps periwinkle isn’t the best color for this. Raphael fluttered to his little house nestled under a patch of luminescent mushrooms. He changed into a midnight blue tunic with matching slippers and fastened on a belt woven from spider silk. He clipped a small bag and a thorn sized fairy knife to his belt and pranced in front of the mirror. Excellent! Nice and dark, harder to spot. Raphael blew a long strand of hair from his face and noticed his sparkling blue eyes shinning back at himself in the mirror. Well those may be a problem. Raphael placed strands of hair around his face, a couple of long strands over his eyes, trying to shade them. He glanced back at the mirror. Ah! That’s better! And set off on his journey.

           How does one rid themselves of trolls? Carefully. Raphael had a plan. He knew the nasty lumps would turn to stone as soon as the sunlight touched their stinky gray skin, but getting trolls stuck outside at dawn would be tricky, and dangerous. Raphael was brave and mischievous, but not ready to get himself popped like a glittery pimple by trolls. He snuck carefully out of the enchanted fairy garden, careful to hid himself and stay unseen by his friends. No sense in dragging them into this. He dared not fly north over the wall into the land of beauty. Instead, he headed west, towards the caves of the trolls. Surly trolls won’t be expecting to see fairies or trespassers in their lands, no one is foolish enough to try that. Except for him. He skittered along, hiding in bushes and ferns as he went. Creeping along like a black spider or fluttering like a butterfly, trying to look like anything but a squishable fairy. Ahead was a lumbering mountain and along its edge was bulking boulders and an occasional gnome skull or bear femur. The cave entrance must be nearby. Raphael slid behind a pebble, trying to look like a scuttling dung beetle looking for a meal. He tiptoed forward, edging around broken bones and crumbled rocks. He crept into a shadow and felt the cold dampness envelope him. He shivered and glanced around. A little to the left he spotted a hole in the rocks of the mountain, the entrance to the troll house. Raphael had a sudden craving for chocolate chip cookies and wished he would have thought to packed snacks for the trip. He sighed and gathered his courage. It’s still daylight out, the trolls must be sleeping. Into the troll house he went.

           The cave was dark and musty, glowing algae clung to the walls providing some light. Raphael could hear the drip drap of water droplets splattering on the cavern floor.  He inched himself forward, clinging to the edges of the wall, creeping like a millipede. He made sure to keep his wings folded down tightly on his back and racked his midnight hair in front of his face for covering. Slowly he came upon a hoard of snoozing trolls, snoring raucously and smelling of sweaty socks and decaying fish. He slithered up to sleeping troll chief and crawled like a louse onto the troll’s massive club. Raphael took a deep breath and held it then squatted on the club and began to shiver and squirm. A cloud of fairy dust flatulence drifted out from beneath his blue tunic and covered the club. He waved his arms and chanted soundlessly; a little pop and the club shrunk to the size of a grain of ragweed pollen. Raphael snatched up the tiny club and placed it carefully into the pouch clamped to his belt. He then drew his tiny thorn dagger and thrusted it into the ground next to the chief troll’s head. He then held his breath, poofed out another dust cloud that hugged the dagger, after another silent chat the dagger grew and stretched. The fine steel blade glinted softly in the light of the glowing algae, grand and strong and clearly elfin made. Raphael darted between the trolls like a salamander and scurried to the mouth of the cave. He shot out into bright sunlight hammering down on the rocks below, heating them and causing them to sizzle as he flittered across them. One down, one to go. He breathed in the warm dry air and flew south.

           The land of the elves was a brighter, happier land filled with laughter and singing. Raphael rested along the edges of the elf village. He lounged in a daffodil for a time, watching white clouds drift far above him. His stomach grumbled and growled so he flew to a clump of clovers growing alongside orchid grass and golden wheat. He crawled onto a plump purple clover bloom and drank the sweet honey-nectar. The sweet, refreshing nectar cooled his throat and coated his empty stomach. He drank and drank. Finally, he had his fill and went back to the daffodil to rest and prepare for the next phase of his plan. He had to time it just right. Trolls can’t come out during the day but if he waited too late into the night, then the trolls would be up and would have spotted the elfin sword and be in a rage. He waited, watching some elves wonder by, singing on their way back to the village. The elves were nice folk and generally friendly to the gnomes and fairies. They were merry people and pleasant. Raphael almost regretted his plan, but someone had to look out for the future of the fairies. The elves were a splendid, grand folk who were mighty warriors and ferrous archers. A cheery delight as a friend, a nightmare as a foe. Raphael waited as the red and orange streaks of the sunset turned into purple and faded into nothingness. He fluttered quickly to the closed elfin king’s gates and zoomed to the heavy, bolted wooden door of the castle. Raphael opened the pouch and took out the teeny club he stole from the troll chief and hurled it towards the door with all his might. It was still covered in fairy dust, so no need to crop dust it a second time. As the club flew towards the door, Raphael chanted. The stone club grew to full size troll club and smashed into the door with a loud bang. Splinters of wood rained down around Raphael who quickly flew back to the daffodil he had been using that day. He heard shouts as the elves ran to the king’s door and found the troll club there. “TROLLS!” Some shouted. “Where’d it go?” shouted others. “Tried to raid the castle by bashing down the door!” another said. Raphael smiled, unfolded his sparkling wings and flew north to the fairy garden.

           The battle was intense. Raging mad half-witted trolls stormed to the elfin village, ready to bash all the elves for daring to attempt to behead their chief. Furious elves rained down flaming arrows on the trolls and gallantly sliced their way threw the troll forces with their elegant steel swords. The battle raged until dawn, the absentminded trolls only thinking of revenge and slaughter were caught outside when the sun climbed over the battlefield, instantly transforming the stinking trolls into hard cold stone. Victoriously the elves sang as the came back to their village, laughter and song echoed throughout the day. The elves were so pleased with their conquest of the trolls that they feasted and celebrated for a week. They sent curriers with gifts to the fairy garden and the gnome hills in the north, bidding them to rejoice in the expulsion of the nasty trolls. There was triumph and joy throughout all the land.

           Raphael reclined on a water lily, his fingertips gently floating on the water as he sailed slowly across the crystal lake. Feeling the coolness of the fresh air play with his unkempt hair and enjoying the honeysuckle wafting up his nose. Delicate pink cherry blossoms drifted to the water and floated among the water lilies. All was serene.