II

Anna followed after the butterfly through the thicket and brush that filled the woods all around her home.  Her bare feet squished down in the mud that blanketed the ground.  Still, she kept her eye on the beacon of white light that emitted from the butterfly, stark against the background of the woods.  As she clambered down a large boulder, she noticed a light through the trees ahead, except this one was different than the light surrounding the man from the woods.  This one was more yellow and flickering, almost as if it were a flame.  She could not be sure where it was coming from, for the trees were too thick and it was too dark, despite the near full moon.  One thing was certain, though, the butterfly was going toward the light.

 

Anna ducked under a low branch and into a very small clearing at the foot of what, at first glance, seemed to be a tree covered over with many knots.  Amidst the knots she saw the source of the flickering, yellow light.  It was just as she had thought.  In a small window Anna could see a candle, its wax melted down over the sill in the absence of a candlestick.  This was no ordinary tree.  The butterfly flew in through this window and out of sight.  “Where are you going?”  The butterfly emerged from the window, floating for an instant and then vanished back into the window.  Anna tried to climb up the tree to look inside but to no avail.  It was too high.  She began circling around the tree, eager to figure out this very odd tree.  When she came around to the other side, she realized the full extent of the tree.  There, nearly fallen over, was a small cottage built right onto the side of the tree.  Smoke crept out of the small, crooked stone chimney.  Flickering candles dotted the tiny windows.  The walls of the cottage and the trunk met each other at a small door made from the thick bark of the tree.  The whole setting seemed strangely familiar, like she had been there before.  Could she have been there before?  No, her mother never let her into the woods alone.  She would have remembered such a place. 

 

Stepping forward, Anna noticed a carving into the side of the tree, next to the door.  She could not make out what it said, though, for it was an unfamiliar language.  She leaned down and ran her fingers over the carving.  It was such beautiful woodworking to be put into a tree carving.  Anna turned to the door, remembering the white butterfly inside.  She reached out to knock, but thought about it twice, pulling her had back.  She stood, biting her lip, torn, wondering what to do.  Deciding to return home, she turned around to find the white butterfly perched on a small twig reaching out from the tree.  Was it the same butterfly?  Anna could not be sure.  Before she could make up her mind, the butterfly fluttered into the air right by her and through one of the small windows.  It was too much for Anna’s curiosity.  She walked up to the door and knocked lightly.  There was no answer.  Again, she knocked.  Still nothing.  Anna had to see the inside of this cottage.  Pushing the door open, she stepped into the warmth of the small home.

 

The inside glowed with candles all around, a fireplace burned across the room.  It smelled strong of a smoking pipe and cider.  A large armchair sat to the right of the fire and a large bed to the left.  She would find that this was they only open space in the entire cottage.  Papers, journals, and books were crammed into shelves lining the walls.  Whatever did not fit in the shelves was stacked wherever there was room, on the table, above the fireplace, in the sink.  But that was not all that filled the house.  Countless glass jars were overtook whatever space was not occupied with the books.  As Anna walked along the shelves, she found that many were filled with unusual things she had never seen before.  Others were filled with books and papers and some with nothing at all.  She came to one jar that held a large toad, sitting motionless.  Was it dead?  Anna bent forward, her face close to the side of the jar.  She stared at it for a moment.  Suddenly the toad made a load croaking sound, its throat bulging out into a bubble, sending Anna jumping back, startled.  She collected herself and turned back to the disarray.

 

Looking back over the room, she realized that no one was there.  Someone obviously lived there, that was certain.  Then she began to think that they must be coming back soon, no one would leave the fire and so many candles burning while away for long.  What would they think if they came home and found her in their home?  She started for the door but stopped, spying two white butterflies atop a large pile of papers on a desk.  Anna could not help but be fixated with the tiny creatures.  She tiptoed forward, not wanting to scare them.  Slowly she reached out, hoping to finally catch one.  Just as she was about to grab the closest to her, the papers began to stir beneath the butterflies.  They flew into the air as the pile of papers continued to move, which now rose up.  It seemed to be the man that she had seen in the woods.  However, as the papers continued to fall from him, Anna saw what was emerging from the rubble and she realized it was not a man.  The last paper fell, revealing a creature she had only ever heard about in the books that she read.  There, sitting right in front of her was a faun.  He was dressed in a finely tailored maroon velvet jacket, a white cotton shirt with a high neck underneath.  He stood up with the aid of a cane, towering over her.  He was so tall that Anna wondered how he could have ever fit through the front door.  His short grey beard accentuated his obvious old age.

 

“Hello child.  We have been expecting you.”  Anna was too shocked to say anything.  “You must excuse me for not being ready.  We have been waiting, yes, but we did not imagine you would come so soon.”  The butterflies came over to him.  He reached out his finger for one to rest upon.  “You did a wonderful job, my children.”  He kissed the butterfly and let it off into the air.  As he continued to talk, she found that although he was a bit eccentric, his deep, raspy voice intrigued her.  Yet, she still made sure he would not get between her and the door.  He continued on with his cunning tone, almost carefully selecting each word before he spoke.  “Let me clear a place for you my dear.”  The faun pushed away the papers, books, and whatever else was covering the table, exposing more carvings.   The tabletop was bordered by the same odd language on the tree outside.  In the middle of the table there were various pictures of the sun, moon, and stars, the faun, and other bizarre creatures, some depicting scenes of events Anna knew nothing of.  She went over the whole table with her eyes in amazement at the craftsmanship.  “You like my work, do you?”  Anna looked up at him.  She caught his eyes but became nervous and looked away back down to the table.  “I have not done many in so long.  As I mentioned, we did not think you would come for some time.  I had waited and waited ages and ages.  Sleep crept up on me and I fell into a slumber.”  The faun looked over at the clock on the wall.  Anna had noticed its presence before but had not looked at it closely.  It was not like the clocks she knew.  Five hands and more unknown markings decorated its face.  There was one scale that turned across the top and two at the bottom. They were obviously circles turning round in the workings of the clock but only a portion of each was exposed.  Everything seemed to click on in no sequential way.  “O my, my…I must have been asleep for nearly two decades.”  Anna turned her head up, a confused look on her face.  She was sure that this was the “man” that she had seen in the trees.  It did not add up, however.  If he was the man, how could he have been asleep for the past 20 years?

 

“I’m sorry.  Who are you?”

 

“Pardon my manners.  I am The Keeper of the Secret.  I live here and it is my job, along with my companions, to keep an eye out for you.”  By now the butterflies came to rest on the horns curling down from the top of the faun’s head.

 

“Your name is The Keeper of the Secret?”

 

“No, no, no.  That is who I am.  My name is…”  The faun stopped, cocking his head to the side, thinking.

 

“You do not know your own name?”

 

“I must not.  I have not spoken it in so many years.  The trees may remember for they are older than I.  Listen to the wind flow through their leaves, someday they may tell you.  You may call me Faun, for that is what I am.”

 

“And how old are you?”

 

“I am older than the birds that fly in the heavens and the fish that bathe in the sea.  I have been here during Today and Yesterday, since before the Time of the Star, before the Age of Shadows, before they were known as they are today.”  As he says this he gestures to the door.  Anna turns but sees nothing.

 

“What do you mean the Time of the Star and the Age of Shadows?  What are these?”

 

The faun looked down at the small insects on his horns.  “Are you sure that you have brought me the right one?”  They answer back, to Anna’s surprise, but in sounds that she cannot decipher.  “Let me have a look at you.”  Seeing the faun reach out with his long, thin fingers, Anna moved back in her chair.  “Do not be worried, child.  I will not hurt you.  I just need to be sure.”

 

Anna, taken aback by what the faun just said, sat still as the faun began to examine her.  Pausing for a moment, he stood back and looked her up and down mumbling to himself.  Continuing his inspection, he gently put her head between his hands, pushing back her hair to look in her ears.  He closely examined her mouth and checks.  Last, he peered deep into her eyes, his face so close to hers that she could feel the warmth of his skin.  Finally, he stood back up with a grunt of seeming approval.  He smiled down at her and clasped his hands together at his heart.  “It is true then.”

 

“What is true?  You are confusing me very much.”

 

“My apologies.  I am speaking of all this and it must sound like such nonsense.  But I will explain much soon and you will see who you truly are…”  He paused and looks directly into her eyes as a sly look came across his face.  “…Anna.”

 

Very surprised, Anna once again took a step any from the faun and toward the door.  “How do you know my name?  I have not told you.”

 

“You will see that there is much that I know about you.”  He turned away to the back of the house and sat down in the immense armchair in front of the fire, lighting up his knotty smoking pipe.  He crossed his legs and looked back at Anna, slowly puffing smoke into the air.

 

Anna took a step toward him.  “You must begin to tell me things.  I need to know everything.”

 

“And I shall.  You will know everything in due time.”

 

Anna looked around herself at the place that she was in.  She questioned whether any of this existed.  If it was, should she go on?  She knew what she had just said; she did want to know more about the mysterious faun, his past life, and how he knew who she was.  But she just was not sure.

 

“I will wait here until you have decided if you want to continue.”  It was so strange how he knew everything about her, even seemingly knowing what she was thinking.

 

“Well, are you just going to sit there or are you going to be a gentleman and find somewhere for me to sit.”

 

The faun took the pipe out of his mouth, almost as if he had expected that answer from Anna.  “Perfect.”  He got up and walked over to a closet door that was on the wall of the tree.  He opened it out into the room and stepped inside, rummaging around.  A moment later he reappeared holding an armchair just Anna’s size and placed it across from his.  “Sit and be comfortable.  Would you like some warm cider?”  Anna climbed into the chair and nodded.

 

As the faun prepared a pot of cider, she looked into the fire, its flames dancing around in a ballet of warmth.  Bright orange embers glowed beneath the burning logs.  She then spotted a box on the mantle above the fireplace.  It was made of a dark wood and she could tell that it was very old.  Despite its age, it was made very well and must have been still very sturdy.  It had carvings on it as well, flowered vines snaking and winding there way around the sides.  It also had a very elaborate golden lock on the front.  “Faun, did you make this?”

 

The faun walked over and hung the pot of cider over the fire to heat.  “No, I did not.  I was given that.”

 

“What is it?  What is inside?”

 

“That, my child, is the secret that I keep.”

 

“And what secret is that?”

 

“In due time, in due time.  You will learn many deep dark things.  And one day you will learn the secret that I keep.”

 

“Do you know the secret?”

 

“That depends on who you ask.  Some say I do and some say that I do not.”

 

“And what do you say?”

 

“I am not so sure myself.  I may, but of course that depends on who is asking.  One thing is certain, whether I know the secret or not, I do not have the key.  The box holds the secret of which the key opens and the key opens the box of which holds the secret.  You could say that the one who holds the key holds the secret.  And the one who holds the secret is The Guardian.”

 

“Then you are The Guardian.”

 

“Ah, no, I do not hold the key.  I only keep the secret.”

 

“I am very confused.”

 

“And rightfully so.  You will understand eventually.”

 

“But I want to understand now.”  Anna stumbles over a few words, not sure what to say next.  “What is The Guardian?”

 

“Now is the right time for that question.  But it is not what, but who The Guardian is.  The Guardian must be human, but can not be just any human.  They must be a child of The Star.”

 

“Is that the same star from the Time of the Star?”  The faun nodded without saying a word.  “How long ago was that?”

 

“The time in which we live in now is known as Today and Yesterday.  This has been a long period of time, many thousands of years.  The time before that was known as the Time of the Star.”

 

“You mean that I am from that time?  I am thousands of years old?”

 

“No.  Your family has come down through many generations from the Time of the Star, as every human’s family has.  But your family is unique.  The name you bear has special meaning.”

 

“Anna has a special meaning?”

 

“Not that name but the full name in which you carry.  A wonderful name, I think.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“Your first name, Anna, was given to you by your mother.  Ever since she was a little girl she wanted to name her daughter Anna.  Your middle name, Nora, was given to by your father.  And your last name?  That was given to your forefathers by the stars themselves.  Do you know why your name is so important?”

 

“No.”

 

“Nora means ‘light’ and Astra means ‘from the stars’.  Your name is more than just a title, it is the answer to the riddle.  Who is the Guardian?  You are…Anna, light from the stars.”

 

“I do not understand.”

 

“The stars watch from the heavens, they are the guardians of the universe.  It is the light from the stars that guards over the earth, protects it from harm.  Anna, you are the first that has been given the name Nora.  You are the light, the light that protects the earth.”

 

“I am to protect the earth?”

 

“Not the earth as you may think of it, the mountains and forest, but the inhabitants of the earth.  You see, The Guardian has the power to save those who need to be saved.”

 

“Who needs to be saved?”

 

“Now that is an interesting question, is it not?”

 

Anna sat silently for a minute, pondering over what she had just heard.

 

“Would you like some cider now, it seems to be ready.”

 

“Yes, thank you.”  Anna took the cup and held it between her hands, feeling the warmth move up her arms.  As she drank, she looked over the lip of her cup at her new found friend puffing away on his pipe.  So interesting he was, every movement mesmerizing, his words so peculiarly chosen.  She was sure that she had never met anyone, or anything for that matter, as strange as he.  “This is such wonderful cider.”

 

The faun bowed slightly in his chair.  “Why thank you.  It is always a pleasure to have company.  I do not get to entertain guest everyday.  But alas, the night is giving way to morning and you must be on your way.  You would not want to worry your mother.”

 

———

 

Anna opened her eyes, squinting in the morning light.  Finally they adjusted to the light and she found her self in her room.  Puzzled, she sat up in her bed, wondering how she had come to be back at her house.  Could last night have been real?  Had she really met the old faun?  Glancing around, she came upon her book, closed and wrapped up in the brown paper, the twine tied around it.  The window was closed.  Her sweater hung where it always did.  No sound of fluttering wings.  No smell of tobacco or cider.  Everything was just as she had left it.

Reviews

[Mavis Bard]

The depiction of the cottage is fantabulous. The clutter, the mess, the jars, the candles and fireplace. Very descriptive. The warm setting and the old Faun go hand-in-hand very well. I also like the interaction between Anna and the Faun. Although, the first chapter revealed Anna as a very shy girl. I didn't entirely feel that way about her in this chapter. She seemed more bold, initiating questions instead of answering them. I could be totally wrong, however. And it doesn't really detract from the story. I'm just curious about her personality, that's all. I wonder if the Faun is renting his cottage from Bilbo Baggins? lol