A Short Story: Anjou & Penelope’s Great Adventure

It was a warm spring day in Lychee Park. The sun was full and bright, dragon clouds danced across the sky; butterflies and honeybees fluttered and buzzed on the breath of the wind, and the birds were in full chorus welcoming the last day of spring, before the haughty summer.

Anjou, a woodland fairy, had traveled to Lychee Park in the hopes of observing the Great Awakening of Lychee Park – rumored to only happen during the first solstice of the year. For it was believed that the first solstice brought more hours of daylight and the extended rays bathed Lychee Park in a warm glow stirring the blossoming of flowers; creating a bountiful and fragrant aroma, so sweet and pungent it awakened dormant magic in the park, and the flowers would begin to dance.

Anjou waited and waited, but he saw nothing. Perturbed, he decided to take a dip in one of the fountains to rest his wings from the long journey. Anjou splashed and played in the fountain amongst the birds. Soon the sun began to recede casting a pink shadow on all below; the wind encircled the park, and a fragrance began to spread like mist. As the mist began to settle, Anjou thought he heard singing, but when he looked around, he saw no one. The cast over the park faded into a pinkish yellow. Just a few trices later Anjou thought he heard chattering and laughter, and when he turned to look to see if anyone was there, he saw the flowers of the park – not dancing as the woodland folklore tellers had said but transforming into something he had least expected.

Anjou peered over the edge of the fountain and watched as the flowers already so elegant and beautiful transformed into creatures that looked like him yet different. Anjou gazed in amazement as the creatures roamed about the park enjoying its bounty and splendor. Anjou saw one of the creatures approaching the fountain he was resting in and hurriedly hid amongst the brush. The creature stepped into the fountain, leaned down, and scooped water into her palms – she stared into the small pool and as the water seeped through her hands she said, “… why did you hide?”

Anjou did not speak or move. “Are you afraid?” the creature spoke delicately, but still Anjou did not answer or move. He was stunned by the beauty of the creature and in awe that she had taken notice of him out of all the wondrous things in the park to notice. “My name is Penelope, come now from where you are hiding and tell me your name.” Slowly, Anjou came out from under the brush. “My name is Anjou, I’m a woodland fairy from the north.” “I know what you are, you are not the first to come, but I must say, none have ever ventured to come this close before” Penelope said and then Anjou understood why the other woodland fairies before him described the creatures as dancing flowers; surely if they stayed at a distance the petals which adorned the creatures would be the most visible and shroud their handsome faces. Memories of all the woodland fairy folklore tales about Lychee Park began to flood Anjou’s mind.

“… It is impolite to stare” Penelope said after several trices of silence. “My apologies – time seems to escape me when I am in your presence.” Anjou said completely unaware of the timelapse between Penelope’s words and his former strain of thought. “Does my presence overwhelm or unnerve you?” Penelope asked as she stepped closer to Anjou. “No, well yes – I’m not sure; it’s just – I don’t quite know what to make of you – all of you” Anjou stammered as he looked around at the other creatures who seemed oblivious to his presence.

“… You don’t know what to make of me or you don’t know what I am?” Penelope asked with a slight scrunch in her nose. “I don’t know what you are” Anjou admitted sheepishly. “You could have just asked” Penelope said with a slight chuckle. “… I assure you; your eyes are not deceiving you, I am a flower” “the flowers I know do not come alive as you do” “… I am not a flower you know then” Penelope said with cheeky eyes, “surely you are not” Anjou said, and then Penelope’s face grew warm and flush. Shocked by his own audacity Anjou quickly moved to a less tempting conversation.

“All my life I’ve listened to tales about Lychee Park and heard stories about flowers like you” “flowers like me are called floras, and we are the keepers of Lychee Park” Penelope said as Anjou followed her out of the fountain “… it is said that our magic sustains the park and multiplies its bounty and splendor” Penelope continued as they strolled through the park. “… What would happen to the park if the floras left?” Anjou asked curiously, and Penelope went to answer, but then quickly recoiled. “Quite honestly, I do not know, a flora has never left the park before; but who would ever dream of leaving a place brimming with such beauty and splendor” Penelope said ending with a twirl and then a gust of wind encircled her with aromas of orange and cinnamon. “Lychee Park is very beautiful, but there is so much more beauty in the world to see beyond the bounds of this park, like Larkspur Falls, Lobelia Cavern, and Zinnia” Anjou said with great glee and joy as he recalled his trips there. Penelope was curious to know about Anjou’s adventures but did not want to pull him from his memories, so instead she remained silent and continued to stroll beside him in the park, only speaking occasionally to point out blossoms, florets, buds, and special creatures in the park that fed on and nourished the vegetation.

As they began to near the edge of the western perimeter Penelope could not contain her curiosity any longer and asked, “… Larkspur Falls, Lobelia Cavern, and Zinnia, have you really been to all of those places before? or is just more woodland fairy folklore?” “I’ve been to all of those places and many more; if you dare to venture, I’ll show you the way” Anjou said and then stretched out his hand towards Penelope just as they breeched the western perimeter of the park; and for reasons Penelope could not put into words she grabbed Anjou’s hand and left with him from the park to start a new adventure no flora before her had ever endeavored.

~ To Be Continued