What Thou Fearest the Most

Dear reader: I am working on a story. It is about a boy, a fairy, Columbus, my ancestry. I am trying to work it all out. Take a look.

  “Hello?” She whispered softly. “Is somebody about?”

   “SSSSSSSSS.” The sound came near her. Two black eyes came into view. They were large eyes, eyes as big as her entire body.

   “Who art thou? What art thou?” The voiced whispered. Nena looked now and saw a large set of vicious, needle sharp teeth.  She looked down and saw the entire length of the creature. She now was able to see a huge snakelike body. It was wrapped around the trunk of a huge mahogany tree like a vine. Nena could hear the tree moaning from the weight of it.  A large black forked tongue wiggled in front of her, sensing Nena’s essence.

   “Who sent thee?” The voice was quiet yet cautious, threatening with menace.

   “Ooh!” Nena said. She looked down and saw that the entire body of the snake creature was covered not with scales but with feathers. The feathers sparkled and flashed in the light and reflected all the colors of the rainbow.

   “Ooh!” Nena said. “You are beautiful! Who are you?”  She asked, not at all frightened by the size and menace of the snake beast.

   “I have many names.” He hissed. “I am What Thou Fearest the Most.”

   Nena looked into his eyes and saw only pure complete blackness.

   “Fear me not.” What Thou Fearest the Most said. “Thou art in no peril from me. Thou hast innocence and sweetness, and purity. I will call you Xotchil, Little Flower. Why does thee follow that pestilence below?”

   “Huh?” Nena asked. She looked down at Ledesma and Carlitos walking, stopping, and then moving along. “Pesti . . .?”

   “They are wee ones in size but they bring with them hatred and sorrows, a plague of bitter tears, an infection of miseries, destruction, deep eternal regrets, ruination. They bring an end to the age of the Sun.”

   Nena saw him tighten its grip around the tree until it snapped in two.

   “But, he’s just a wee lad. And the man, he has a kind heart, much like the boy.”

   “They come from the Sea Beyond the Morning Sun. There be the homeland of the Garden of Evil. I have set free the elements and the furies against them. Take heed Little Flower. They will not set foot on my land. They are not welcome. Their blood will flow! Rivers of it! And I will drink of it!”

   The feathered serpent let slip its grip and the huge tree snapped and crashed its way through the forest canopy on its way to the ground. The beast started to disappear in her presence, but the last thing that Nena saw were the eyes looking down at her. The fire of hatred burned in those eyes, and she could still see them long after they disappeared. She heard the flapping of great wings, and then the presence was gone.

About jedwardnajera

I am an artist and a Poet. I live the life of a poet. I published several novels. Nena the Fairy and the Iron Rose, Dust of the Moon are among them, available through Amazon Books. I have spent over thirty five years in a classroom. I am now retired from that profession. My father kept a living record of his lifetime as he lived through the Twentieth Century. He was born in 1908 and almost lived long enough to see us enter the new millennium. He entrusted to me nearly 400 pages that he wrote through the years. Now I am continuing the tradition by posting my own stories and misadventures. I am trying to post a new entry or chapter each Friday. Check in on us at least once a week for the latest post.
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