Adrina
by Carrie Harris

She sat at the edge of the pool, gazing at her reflection. Others called her pretty, but she couldn't see it for herself. All she saw was a face. Inside that face, now that was a different story. Inside that face, seen only through her eyes, was a world of wisdom and compassion, and a special sort of magic that could only be found by looking past self.

She ran her fingers through her long, silky hair, and looked up with a sigh. The sun had risen; it was time to go to work.

Adrina flapped her moth-like wings gently as she walked. It was not a conscious action, it was just something that happened when she was deep in thought. At this moment, her thoughts were directed at a sick little boy.

Moombee was a human child, about four or five years of age. Instead of running around with the other children, Moombee had to stay in bed. He had long since grown weak and weary, and it was a long time since he had bothered to eat ... but now Adrina was terribly worried, for now Moombee had forgotten how to smile.

Adrina flapped her wings, and fluttered up to the window. Moombee's mother gushed over the pretty butterfly, and this pleased Adrina. Of course, she always looked like a butterfly to adults, because adults had forgotten how to imagine. She fluttered in through the open window as the Mother left the room, and settled on Moombee's pillow.

"Moombee, are you awake?" she whispered, and Moombee slowly turned over. His face was paler than usual, and his eyes were deep and sad.

"Oh Anina, its you," he whispered, and coughed. The effort of those few simple words had taken a lot, and he lay gasping for a few moments before he could breathe again. Adrina reached over and tenderly stroked his forehead with her tiny hand.

"Oh my, you're so hot!" she exclaimed, worry darkening her face. She waved her wings gently, trying to cool him down a little. The boy simply lay there looking at her, imploring her with his deep blue eyes.

Adrina thought for a moment. She knew the boy was dying ~ she had heard his mother say so on a previous occasion ~ but she wanted to make him smile, to take the pain away. She pulled her flute out of her bag, and began to play a gentle tune. It was a sweet melody, a weaving melody, and Adrina smiled as she saw the peace fall on Moombee's face. He still didn't smile, but his eyes begged her not to stop.

She changed the melody to a cheerful tune, the same tune she played for the elves on the eve of their meeting each year. Moombee closed his eyes, and lay there wishing he could get up and dance. Suddenly an idea jumped into Adrina's mind, and she stopped playing.

"Moombee, would you like to fly with me?" she asked, and he nodded slowly, painfully. She told him to close his eyes, and imagine he was a bird ... when his eyes were closed, she quietly put the flute to her mouth, and began to play a series of soft notes, swiftly building into increasingly vibrant melodies ...

The world darkened and fell away, until it was just the two of them. Adrina played three sharps notes in quick succession, and suddenly Moombee was standing beside her, his cheeks pink and flushed and his eyes bright and dancing ... neither said a word as Adrina used her music to lift them both up, up, into the gentle breeze and away into a distant garden.

Adrina looked to her side, and saw Moombee floating, soaring, twisting and turning, enjoying every moment of freedom as his body floated on the wind. They fluttered past trees and flowers, birds and animals. They soared high in the air, they floated low across the water, they danced, they played, flying on the power of the music.

Adrina slowed the melody down, and played a gentle, sleepy tune ... she whispered dreams and hopes, she soothed and comforted ... and she brought them safely back to earth.

Adrina lowered her flute, and looked at the sleeping boy. His forehead was no longer red and burning, his breathing was deep and steady ... but most importantly of all, he had a smile on his sleeping face.

Adrina leaned over and kissed the boy on the forehead, pleased at a job well done. She took one last look at the boy who would now live, fed on hope, then fluttered her wings and flew out of the open window to a day filled with tomorrows.