Faerie IV Love is where you find it part 2
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Faerie Bloom free porn video
‘The Faeries should be pleased,’ Patrick Davidson said to himself, gazing at the tiered garden he had spent years building and maintaining. He turned to his favorite part of his creation – the sculpted stone fountain that sat at its center.
Two meters high, it was crafted from pale gray stone. A custom carved statue depicting a trio of winged Faeries holding an upturned jar. Water poured steadily from the pot, falling into the pool beneath it.
Patrick frowned. The normally clear water in the pool had taken on a milky cast. His frown deepened as the water began to swirl slowly in a pattern contrary to what the water falling from the spout should have dictated
Urged forward by curiosity, yet slowed by caution, Patrick edged closer.
In the water, unaffected by either the swirling or murkiness, was the image of a lovely young woman’s face. Her features were pale and smooth. Her hair was long, wavy and golden, drifting around her head in slow motion, as if stirred by a slight breeze. As her hair drifted, Patrick caught a quick glimpse of ears that tapered off to soft points at their tips. Her eyes were pale green beneath upswept brows.
The image of the woman pulled back, moving deeper into the waters of the fountain. As it moved, Patrick could see more of her. He saw that she wore a sleeveless diaphanous white gown.
She raised one hand, beckoning.
Stunned, Patrick turned for moment, ensuring that none of his neighbors were watching before returning his attention to the mysterious image in the fountain.
She was still waving him to her, her image was still moving away, sinking into the depths of the water, growing smaller.
Not knowing what else to do, Patrick again glanced around, then stepped into the bowl of the fountain. The warm water soaked through his sneakers and socks. All Patrick noticed was that the image of the young woman had vanished.
He stood with his feet firmly planted on the stone bottom of the fountain, staring into the water. It was still cloudy but the image had gone. His physical presence in the water disturbed the swirling pattern, forcing it to change once more. Still, the water moved in designs that had nothing to do with the water pouring into it.
Lifting his gaze, Patrick watched the water pouring from the statue of the three Faeries and the pot they held aloft between them. It was at that moment that Patrick felt himself sink quickly into the fountain. He was barely able to draw a breath before his face passed through the water.
Then, just as abruptly as it had begun, he stopped sinking and knew he was no longer in his garden.
Dense white fog hung in the air, limiting his vision to nothing. The fog was so thick that Patrick could not even see the solid ground that he could easily feel beneath his soaked feet. Unsure what else to do, Patrick called out a greeting. His voice echoed chillingly off of the fog, coming back to him warped and distorted. He did not call out again.
Patrick strained his eyes, hoping to see something besides the ever-present fog that surrounded him. There was nothing.
Deciding not to simply stand still, waiting for something to happen, he chose a direction and began walking. To his surprised relief, the fog faded away instantly and Patrick found himself in a small wooded glen.
Trees, tall and majestic, grew around him. Their canopy of vibrant green leaves created a dappled shadow and light mosaic on the soft green grass. To one side, a stream gurgled, its water crystal clear, allowing Patrick to see the small stones and sediment at the bottom. A school of tiny fish swam by as he watched. A small butterfly, its fluttering wings a soft, pastel yellow, drifted past him, flying in the jerking motion typical of the insects. From someplace close by, the song of birds came to him. A warm, moist breeze stirred the leaves and grass. The butterfly looped around Patrick, moving to a cluster of bright pink flowers that grew nearby. The insect landed on one of the soft looking petals, its wings coming to a rest.
‘Greetings,’ a soft, lilting female voice said.
Caught up as he was in his new surroundings, Patrick had not noticed anyone else in the clearing. He jumped and turned, seeing the woman he had seen before in his fountain.
She was short, just over a meter tall. Her long hair floated around her head like a golden halo. The hem of her thin white gown stirred as well and she glowed with inner light. Small lustrous spheres moved through the air around her. The tiny orbs were of varying colors — blue, green, pink, yellow, white, and red — and some drifted slowly while others darted quickly.
Patrick was shocked. From the time he had first spotted her image Patrick had known that she was a Faerie. Still, some part of him had refused to accept it until now.
She must have seen the look on his face, for she smiled up at him, eyes shining with delight. The expression made her even more beautiful.
‘Greetings, Patrick Davidson,’ the Faerie woman said. ‘I welcome you to my world.’
Her use of his name surprised him. ‘How did you know my name?’
She laughed, a light, musical sound, and asked, ‘Must I really answer that for you. Surely, you know who I am.’
Patrick felt his head nodding in agreement. ‘You’re the Queen of the Faeries.’
She nodded, strands of golden hair drifting lazily about her youthful face. ‘Correct. Do you know why I have brought you to me?’
‘No.’ He was unsure whether or not to call her ‘Your Highness’ or kneel before her. However, something in her demeanor told him that such formalities were unnecessary.
‘I need you to do something very important for me.’ Her voice reminded Patrick of a set of wind chimes softly clinking in a warm breeze.
Captivated, Patrick could only bow his head to her. ‘How could I possibly refuse you? What is it that you wish of me?’
Again, she laughed. ‘That, Patrick, is why I chose you – for your devotion to my kind.’
Before Patrick could reply, one of the tiny glowing spheres that orbited the Faerie Queen broke away from its companions, drifting toward him. It was red, dark in the center, paler at its edges. the orb floated to him, stopping just in front of his nose. It was so close to his face that Patrick began to look cross-eyed at it.
Gradually, the glow faded and Patrick could see a very tiny female body at its middle. Translucent red wings were attached to the figure’s back, fluttering lazily as she hovered before his face.
‘Hello,’ Patrick said.
Squealing with delighted laughter, the Faerie darted back toward the Queen. The red glow intensified, once again hiding the tiny Faerie’s shape.
The Queen smiled momentarily before growing serious. ‘Most humans do not even believe in Faeries anymore. Much less devote any time to us. You, on the other hand, have cultivated a wonderful garden and dedicated it to the Faeries. You leave regular offerings of milk and honey and you talk to us. It is for these things that I have chosen you.’
‘Chosen me for what?’
She took a step closer to him. The cloud of tiny Faeries that swarmed around her shifted their flight paths, keeping the Queen in the center of their group.
‘There is a flower,’ she said, ‘that grows near here. It is a most special flower. I would like for you to retrieve it and plant it in your garden. Doing so will greatly strengthen the bonds between the Faerie Realm and Earth. It would be a very large step toward reuniting our two worlds.’
Patrick bowed his head. ‘I will do as you request.’
‘Thank you, Patrick. Unfortunately, it will not be quite that simple for you. Before you may claim the flower, you must first pass a test to prove yourself worthy of the role of its Keeper.’
Patrick frowned. ‘What kind of test?’
‘I cannot tell you. The current Keeper of the Bloom shall decide that.’
‘How do I find this f
lower?’
‘Someone will guide you to it. I would do so myself, but I have other duties.’ She waved languidly.
Another Faerie came slowly toward him, emerging from the trees. The Faerie was a slim young girl, looking to be the equivalent of sixteen years old in human terms. Her long, flowing hair was a pale shade of green. Her skin, flawlessly smooth as the Queen’s, was also green, but several hues darker than her hair. Even her fingernails were shaded green. She was dressed in a thin gown of a shade of green so light that it was nearly white. The garment had a low neckline and a high hem, showing off much of the girl’s slender legs. The cut of the gown revealed the thing that Patrick found to be the most astonishing about her — she had no feet. Her legs dissolved into a lazily floating green-white mist several centimeters above where her ankles should have been. The effect was that the green girl drifted above the ground without actually touching it.
‘This is Karla,’ the Faerie Queen explained. ‘She will guide you.’
‘I’m very pleased to meet you, Karla. My name is Patrick.’ He extended his hand, then wondered if she knew the custom of shaking hands.
She did. Drifting a bit closer, Karla reached out, placing her much smaller hand in his own. Her skin was as soft and smooth as it looked.
‘It’s time the two of you were on your way,’ said the Queen.
Patrick was about to reply when the Queen glowed even brighter, the swarm of smaller Faeries that flew around her was swallowed by the brilliance. The intensity of the light grew until Patrick was about to look away. Then it dimmed and vanished. The Queen had gone.
‘We should go,’ Karla said. She turned, drifting into the surrounding woods, Patrick following.
He had no idea how long they took to make their way through the forest. The time was mostly spent answering Karla’s questions about his life on Earth. As she got to know him a bit Karla became quite talkative. Patrick liked the gentle musical smoothness of her voice and often kept his answers short as possible to allow her to speak again. Patrick felt a flare of disappointment when the woods opened up around them into a new clearing. A pond took up most of the clearing, it’s waters pure and tranquil.
Beside him, Karla called out for the Keeper of the Bloom.
‘I’ll be with you in a second,’ a voice replied.
Patrick drew his attention from the pond, searching for the source of the voice. He saw no one. He was about to ask Karla where the Keeper was when he heard a new sound. Turning, he found himself looking at a nearby tree. Dropping his gaze toward the ground, Patrick was amazed to see a tiny humanoid figure standing beside it, closing small, hidden door in the trunk.
The Gnome was dressed in brown pants, a dark blue shirt, pointed red cap, and black boots. He had curly white hair and a bushy beard. He was smiling.
‘What can I do for you?’ the Gnome asked Karla.
Karla introduced Patrick to the Gnome, the Keeper of the Bloom. She explained to him why Patrick was there.
The Gnome leaned back, looking up at Patrick. ‘It’s been a very long time since anybody came for the flower.’ Turning, he led them to the pond.
As he followed, walking slowly so as not to get ahead of the Gnome, Patrick said, ‘The Queen mentioned a test. What type of test? She said that you would decide.’
‘You’ll find out in due time. Look into the pond.’
Patrick did as he was instructed and had to struggle not to let his jaw gape at what he saw. Underwater, in the center of the pond, he saw the plant. Its stalk and leaves were blue – pale, light blue toward the center, darkening to near purple at the edges. The flower itself was a rich, deep purple puff of petals. The plant looked to be enclosed in some type of bubble, sitting on a moss-encrusted stone pedestal. Rich, black soil had been packed into a depression in the pedestal, the flower having been planted in it.
However, what shocked Patrick most was the sight of several small beings that appeared to be half-Human and half fish. They were swimming in the water around the air bubble that protected the flower, running their webbed hands over it.
The Gnome, apparently seeing Patrick’s reaction to the sight, laughed merrily. ‘The Merchildren keep the bubble intact and filled with fresh air for the plant.’
Patrick glanced down at the Gnome, then at Karla who floated silently beside him. Karla, too, was watching the Merchildren, her expression was one of mild amusement, rather than abject shock, as he knew his own was.
Apparently the Merchildren had finished their tasks. They dove toward the underwater opening of a tunnel Patrick had not noticed before. One of the Merchildren stopped and raised her hand, waving. Unable to keep from laughing, Patrick waved back. Then the Merchild turned back and dove after the others, vanishing into the tunnel.
Patrick felt a light tugging on his sock. Looking down, he saw the Keeper of the Bloom pulling on it, attempting to regain his attention. ‘You must go into the water and retrieve the flower.’
‘Am I required to swim out or is there a boat that I can use?’
The Gnome laughed. ‘You must swim!’
Patrick emptied out his pockets, then removed his shoes, socks, and T-shirt. Everything was still damp from his journey though the fountain. Patrick waded in.
He was surprised at how steeply the ground sloped away. After only a few steps the water rose to his chin. He took a series of deep breaths and dove forward. The water was clean and pure, allowing sunlight to penetrate all the way to the bottom of the pond. It took him only moments to reach the pedestal.
Patrick grasped the bubble with both hands, stunned when his fingers did not simply pass through the thin membrane. Instead, the bubble easily withstood the pressure he put on it, not bending in the slightest. It was as if the bubble were made from glass.
Bracing his bare feet on the bubble, Patrick pushed off, propelling himself back toward the surface of the water. He received another surprise when he found that the surface was now every bit as unyielding as the air bubble below him had proven to be.
He began to panic, slapping his hands ineffectually against the underside of the unexplainably solid surface of the water.
Through the clear obstruction, Patrick could see Karla and the Gnome. Both were watching him. The Gnome was shaking his head sadly. Karla began to move forward, closer to the edge of the pond. The Keeper spoke to her. Patrick could see the Gnome’s lips move even though he was unable to hear him speak. Karla moved back, a stricken expression on her face.
Realizing that he could not escape on his own and that he was not going to receive aid, Patrick rolled over, placing his feet on the underside of the solid surface of the pond and pushed off. Diving back toward the plant, Patrick felt his lungs burning.
Reaching the bubble, he dug at the moss that grew around its lower edge, where it met the stone it rested upon. Moss and stone crumbled away. A silvery air bubble slid into the water, floating toward the surface.
As more escaped, Patrick pressed his mouth to the hole, sucking fresh air into his lungs. After taking several breaths, he pushed moss into the hole, plugging it. He turned, searching for the exit tunnel the Merchildren had used.
The hole was gone, apparently sealed by Merchildren behind them as they left the pond. Patrick returned his full attention to the air bubble.
He pulled away the plug of moss and breathed some more of the air inside the bubble. He then worked to enlarge the hole, flaking away stone bits and moss in an attempt to dislodge the solid air bubble from the stone pedestal.
Silver air bubbles slipped out as Patrick worked, floating upwards. Glancing after them, Patrick saw that the bubbles were rising until they met with the still solid surface of the water. They scoote
d along the underside of the transparent barrier, joining into one, larger, silvery blob of air.
Returning his attention back to the task at hand, Patrick continued to work. His lungs were burning again, forcing him to work faster. Soft gray stone and greenish moss crumbled as he worked, drifting down in slow motion to come to a rest on the bottom the pond. Patrick felt his fingers slip under the edge of the bubble, burrowing into the rich soil. His scrabbling fingers dug deeper. He felt the roots of the plant in the dirt.
-You wish to become my Keeper. Are you worthy?-
The words echoed in Patrick’s mind. He gurgled in panic, losing air.
-Are you?-
He tried to pull his hands free of the hole but could not. His fingers were trapped in the loam by a force he could not name.
-I think you unworthy.-
No, I’m worthy! Patrick screamed mentally.
-Prove yourself.-
How? I’m about to drown!
-You have little time left, true. Use it wisely.-
The plant, he realized with a start, was the source of the voice reverberating through his mind. Still attempting to free himself, he called up a mental image of his Faerie garden. Quickly, he ran through the Queen’s summoning of him and her bestowing of the quest upon him. -The Queen deems you worthy. But why should I?-
Because I’m a good person, he thought desperately. You’ll be well-cared for in my garden.
The plant remained silent.
Help me! What do you want from me?
Still there was no response from the plant.
His lungs ablaze, Patrick tried to push his mouth to the hole. It was blocked by his arms, the bubble having sealed around them. Darkness encroached the edges of his vision.
I’m going to die, he thought. I’ve given my life to try and rejoin Earth and the Faerie realm. Despite his realization, Patrick smiled, knowing that there were few causes he would die for and unable to think of any that meant more to him than this one.
Abruptly, the obstinate bubble popped, sending the remaining trapped air drifting upward in a large quicksilver mass.
Dazed, it took Patrick a few moments to realize that he was free. Squinting against the darkness that obscured his vision, he took hold of the plant, tugging gently but firmly, trying to maintain control of his trembling hands. He was thankful when the plant’s roots slid easily from the soil.
Trying to ignore his burning lungs, Patrick braced his feet on the edge of the pedestal, launching himself back toward the surface. To his relief, he found it liquid once again.
He thrust his head out of the water, gulping fresh air into his lungs. After several breaths, he made his way toward shore where Karla and the Gnome waited. Both smiled brightly at him.
Feelings of anger and betrayal surged up inside of Patrick as he waded onto the bank.
‘I almost died in there!’ he shouted at them. ‘Why didn’t you help me?’ He saw Karla’s lovely young face crumple into an expression of pain. Still, he went on. ‘Huh? I was trapped! I almost drowned! You two just stood there! Why?’
The Keeper stepped forward, placing his own diminutive form between Karla and Patrick. He looked up at Patrick, holding his hands out before him in a gesture of surrender.
‘Forgive us, Patrick, but we could not help you. Karla wanted to go to you, but I stopped her. What you did you had to do entirely on your own.’
Patrick stopped his tirade, standing silently as the Gnome continued.
‘Be proud! You are the only person ever to have passed the test. All the others have wasted their time trying to break through the surface of the water rather than trying for the flower itself. You are the only one to have cared so much for the quest that you were willing to die for it.’
Patrick stood there, dripping water, gasping for a moment, trying to absorb the Gnome’s words. He glanced at Karla, seeing the pain in her vibrant green eyes. He felt his anger drain away, replaced by guilt.
‘Karla,’ he said softly, ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I saw you start toward the pond, then move back. I thought…I’m sorry.’
The Faerie smiled at him, a good portion of the pain falling from her expression. ‘Apology accepted, Patrick.’
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