The Secret Library

       Storm clouds were rolling in, and Aurora knew she needed to start the trek back to the main park where her car waited. As an experienced hiker she knew to check the weather before hitting the trail. There had been no storms in the forecast, so the ominous looking clouds up ahead were a surprise.

           “Alright let’s go,” she said to herself, or perhaps the trees. She had come out here to try to ease the pain of her breakup with James. Plus, it was the anniversary of her father’s death. Her father, who taught her to hike, would have said, “Not planning ahead is to plan to fail,” but she had been sure her plan was tight. She started heading back the way she came. She never went off trail so getting back before the storm, at least literally out of the woods, should be fairly easy. She checked her watch. 2:33pm. She could be back by 3:30 if she really booked it. The storm looked far enough ahead that an hour seemed doable. She came to the narrowest part of the trail, but she knew it by heart, so could traverse it well.

Or so she thought.

Without warning, the sky opened up and the down pour started.

“Shit,” she muttered.

She went to take a step and felt the wet, muddy ground going out from beneath her. She found herself sliding down the cliffside of the trail. She tried to grab ahold of anything that would stop her, but nothing held her long enough. She thought about all the things she could have done better to plan her day on the trail, all the things she could have done better in her life. Not dating James for one. Branches and brambles cut her on her way past them, her backpack sliding off her shoulder.

She landed hard, pain shooting through her entire being. She lay still and silent for a moment, the rain soaking her to the bone. Was she dead? No, she could still feel every cut and ache in her body. Could she move? Yes, nothing was broken or sprained. She sat up, coming back to herself. There was an alcove only a few feet away. She stood up, readjusted her backpack, and made her way into the alcove. It was blessedly cool yet dry inside.

It was overgrown with foliage and brambles, but there was a trail. She didn’t know this path, or how she was going to get out of here. Aurora checked her backpack. She had enough trail mix and water to last her a few hours if she portioned it out. And, hopefully, she could be rescued by then.

That’s when she noticed the light from the other end of the alcove. That must be the way out – she hoped so. She had nothing to do but go in that direction. Even if she stayed where she was, what were the odds that she would be found down here? She had to chance the new path – at least it seemed to lead somewhere.  So, she set off following it.

The trail was surrounded by trees, creating shade. The rain had stopped thankfully. Along the way she noticed little patches of mushrooms gathered in perfect circles. How interesting. In all her years of hiking she had never seen anything quite like it. Nature always seemed to abound with magic. Birdsong filled the air as she walked the path, taking a few sips of water, and two handfuls of trail mix. She checked her watch – 2:33pm. She tapped the watch face. At least thirty minutes had passed since she last looked at her watch. It should be at least 3pm. The watch must have broken in her fall, though the glass was perfectly intact.

Not thinking anything else of it, she continued walking. The dirt road seemed to darken as the woods became more dense. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Though her adventurous heart thumped with the thrill of exploration. Something she hadn’t felt since her father died.

Finally, she came to a clearing surrounded by trees. The clearing was littered with tiny purple and yellow flowers. Sunbeams dappled through the trees creating an ethereal effect. She could swear she heard the tinkling of laughter off in the distance. Aurora was mesmerized. How beautiful. She noticed up ahead that there was a small building. Maybe someone lived there (though it seemed a far-off place to live) and could help her. She made her way through the clearing to where the path picked up again, leading to the structure.

The cottage sat tucked away in the woods, a smattering of pine and oak shading it, protecting it. The line of circular stones leading to the cottage was overgrown, little shoots of grass popping up between the stones, framed by grass and wildflowers.

The yard was more delphiniums, Viking sunflowers, wild daises, and many other flowers than it was grass. Garden baubles littered the liminal spaces between the flowers as bees and other flittery things bounced between each bud and bloom. Birds chittered, hidden somewhere in the trees and recesses of the land. Flowers danced in the breeze. Sun rays poked through the trees, shining down beams of light.

The cottage itself was small, looking for all its life the worse for wear – paint peeling, the roof missing bits of thatch and tile. The windows were dark – no light inside. The porch was small with three little steps leading up to it. One faded white rocking chair sat unused. The porch floorboards were in some spots warped. Yet despite its dilapidation, the cottage still buzzed with magic.

Aurora knocked on the door but there was no answer. She knocked again and the door opened ajar. Surprised, Aurora peeked in. She didn’t see anyone. She contemplated entering the cottage. What if someone did live here and she caught them by surprise? It was a risk but her need for shelter outweighed the risk. So, she pushed the door open further, called “hello?” and upon no answer, stepped in.

Immediately she felt like she had stepped into another world. The cottage was dark inside but there was just enough light coming through the windows for her to see. The furniture was old and dusty, Victorian, like no one had lived here in quite a while. She moved through the room, noticing old art and portraits of people long forgotten. Into the kitchen she noticed a wall-length shelf full of jars which contained what looked like herbs and dried flowers. There were books laid open on the counter, the pages worn and browned from age.

She walked over to the sink to look out the window at the quite overgrown garden, but her foot caught on something in front of the shelf of jars. She looked down and saw a circular handle sticking out of one of the floorboards. Curious. What could be down there? Her imagination could run wild if she let it. But feeling compelled, she grabbed the handle and pulled. The floorboard came up, scattering a cloud of dust. She coughed and waved her hand in front of her face to move the dust away. When the dust cleared, she saw a set of stairs leading into another room below.

Her adventurous spirit was now fully piqued and so she started down the steps. She came to what must be a storage room. There were more shelves of jars, boxes stacked on top of each other, and strewn about haphazardly. Across the room she noticed a door. It looked rather old, with stained glass at the top, and an ornate doorknob. Light seeped through the stained glass, splashing light and color into that portion of the room. Perhaps someone was here and could help her. She went over to the door, turned the knob, and opened it.

The first thing she noticed was the giant oak tree in the middle of the space, it’s full branches practically a canopy, and a large door at the base of its massive trunk. The second thing she noticed were the walls lined with books. It seemed to go on forever. It looked like a library but was open-air. It seemed to be protected by a natural overhang, and she could hear a waterfall. What kind of library was this? Vines hung down the length of the shelves, and it had toadstools and mushrooms for seats.

She walked over to the closest shelf and plucked a book off of it. Behind the book was a face. Aurora shouted in surprise and the face disappeared.

“Hey, hey! I’m not going to hurt you! I promise. I’m just startled,” she said out to the library in hopes that the face would return. After a quiet, still moment, the face returned, and behind it, many others. The face was attached to a little body with fluttery wings and had pointed ears and elongated eyes. The other faces looked similar. What were these beings? She didn’t feel scared or like she was in danger. She felt mostly a sense of wonder and awe. She looked at her watch again – 2:33pm. She realized that her watch wasn’t broken, it was more like time stopped in this otherworld place.

“We are the faeries of the woodland library. We protect the magic,” the original face said, fluttering close to her face. “It must be kept secret. Humans will destroy it,” the faery whispered. “Are you human?” she asked. Aurora nodded. “I am. But I would never destroy this beautiful place,”

Then, out of the door of the oak tree came a being more Aurora’s height. She had no wings but still emitted an otherworldly enchantment. She wore a long black dress and had paper white chin-length hair. Her eyes shone crystal blue.

“I am Rhianwen. The Keeper of the Library and Watcher and Protectress of the Faery,” she said, stepping forward toward Aurora.

“I-I’m Aurora,”

“Welcome Aurora. We have not had any humans here since the cottage woman went away,” Rhianwen said.

“We are protective of the library. It has been here for many hundreds of years. But we keep it secret because not every human is like you. We find that humans are destructive and selfish. We Fae have had to go into hiding ourselves to stay safe and continue our work. We don’t often trust humans,” she said.

Aurora could see what Rhianwen meant about humans. They were destructive, cutting down precious forests to build shopping centers and apartments that all looked alike, destroying the lands and the homes of so many wild creatures they shared the Earth with. Aurora’s heart ached for what humans did and were still doing to the Earth and Her inhabitants.

“So, what is the library for?” she asked, running a finger along the spines of the books closest to her.

“It is to preserve our magic and knowledge of the Fae and the otherworld so that one day the information may be released into the world again,” This all seemed like so much and suddenly Aurora felt she needed to sit. She sat on one of the toadstools which had a tich of a bounce as she sat.

“The magic here is too much for humans who are not used to it. You will be okay if you rest,” Rhianwen said, a slight smirk across her face.

Aurora’s arm itched and she scratched it. An electric sting seared through her arm, and she uttered a yip of pain. She had forgotten about her cuts. The original little face she had seen by the books fluttered over, iridescent wings glittering in the light. She put her little hands on Aurora’s arm and Aurora watched in astonishment as her cuts and scratches healed before her eyes.

“Oh, thank you!” she said. Her arm was like new, like nothing had happened.

“Now then,” Rhianwen started, “how did you find your way here?” Aurora told her of how she had fallen, found the alcove, the cottage, and then the library.

“Well, you’ve had quite the adventure, haven’t you?” Rhianwen said. Aurora nodded, exhaustion seeping into her bones now, everything catching up to her.

“However, my dear, your discovery of the library does present quite a problem for us here,” she said, her voice deepening into seriousness. Before Aurora could respond, Rhianwen continued.

“I am afraid that I will have to give you a choice,”

“A choice?”

“Indeed. We must protect the library and its secrets. It is why we are here. It is our purpose, and that must be our priority.” She paused. Aurora waited.

“You may stay here at the library and help protect it, and live out your days here, never to return to the Upper World. Or…” she paused.

“…you may go back to your life, never to return here. But my dear, should you choose that avenue, I will have to wipe your memory of this place. Not to be cruel, but to keep the library secret. We couldn’t risk you telling anyone about us or how to find us,”

Aurora took a deep breath. A choice indeed. How could she ever forget this place, this magic? These charming creatures. But at the same time, how could she leave her life behind? Lisa her sister. The job she loved. Her cat. If she never returned what would that do to them? Her disappearance would devastate them. Such is the consequence of love - the risk of losing those you love and who love you back.

“Are you sure you have to wipe my memory? I promise I won’t tell anyone,” She said.

“You cannot have it both ways. We cannot take the risk,” Rhianwen said. She walked over to Aurora, put a hand on her shoulder. “You must choose,”

And so, with the ties that bind, Aurora made her decision.

“I choose to go back,” she said quietly, her heart aching at the thought of leaving this place and forgetting these beautiful creatures. But she ached more at the thought of never seeing her sister again.

It was what she had to choose.

“Very well my dear. Is there anything you wish to say before I send you back?”

Aurora stood.

“I hope to one day find myself back here. You all have been lovely to me. And I hope the world will be safe enough for the library to be public one day,” she said. She looked at Rhianwen and nodded. She was ready.

The original little face that had healed her and hidden behind the books, fluttered over to her. She took one of Aurora’s fingers in her tiny Faery hands and held it for a moment. Auroras eyes welled with tears. A wiped memory or not she would not forget this little one. The little face let go and fluttered over next to Rhianwen.

Rhianwen beckoned Aurora over and she approached. Rhianwen looked Aurora in the eyes and said, “You will not remember any of this. You will return to your life and live out your days in the Upper World, never to return here again,” and she touched Aurora’s forehead, and all went black.

 ~*~*~*~

Aurora sat in her car. Something felt off. She didn’t remember getting back. She remembered the trail, the storm, and the need to get back, but not the actual return. Odd. She checked her watch. 3pm. Ah, just in time to get home for dinner with Lisa.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a book in the passenger seat. Funny, she hadn’t brought any books today. She picked it up and felt its weight in her hand. The cover was purple with a gold border. There was a faery on the cover, a cute little face with iridescent wings, sitting on a book. The title was “The Woodland Faeries,” It was beautiful. Sort of familiar but she couldn’t place why. Shrugging off the feeling she put the book back in the passenger seat and turned the car on.

Time to go home.