As The Leaves Fall

The kettle rattled on the range next to her, the joyous bubbles rising through the water at odds with the darkness of her thoughts. A sigh escaped her lips as the old woman looked through the glass of the kitchen window to the trees bordering the gardens.

It was a time of year that planted a seed of dread in her heart; that seed being the only thing which grew and flourished as the fading colours of autumn painted the trees. As the leaves fell, the sprites of the woodlands surrounding the house were released from their arboreal prison, and the bitter yearly fight for survival began anew. The nights were the worst and, with other things to think about now, she did not feel prepared for what lay ahead.

Gaia made her tisane, moving carefully as a bitter twinge of pain lanced through her arthritis swollen knuckles. Sitting in her kitchen and looking out at her well tended gardens, she watched through the open door as the restless winds of autumn plucked the dried out husks of spring's early fervour from the trees. It was still relatively warm outside, the heat of the day making playful breezes which created swirling patterns with the leaves, building them up in the quieter corners so they could mulch down to assist in the new life that would follow the next year. Sitting quietly with a cup of tea, enjoying the air and the fading smells of life outside was a guilty pleasure, and one which would soon have to cease. She knew she didn't have long, and should prepare herself and the house for the battle coming, but 'just a few minutes more,' she told herself quietly.

Spring and summer were her time to recuperate. Time to regain some energy after the long winter which always left her drained and on the brink of death. As life sprang forth from the earth, she had nature's help in the eternal fight: all winter brought was loneliness and pain. As winter faded into memory, the rising sap of spring kept the beasts caged within their deciduous bowers, the ever-brightening sun weakening their powers and leaving them comatose.

But now it was mid-autumn.

Soon it would all start again; a fight which became more difficult every year as man ripped down more of the ancient forests, and destroyed more of the lines of power. Placing the cup of steaming tea back on the table in front of her, she sighed again.

Her age warped hands soon lost the heat from the mug, and she tucked them into her cardigan pockets to retain a little warmth. Her body relaxed as she leant back into the wooden chair, the wood offering a faint creak of protest.

The whispers of movement in the darkness had started early this year, the shadows in the woods deepening more with each passing night, presaging the oncoming of a bitter winter. Winds from the north had quickened the demise of summer, and some of the trees had released their confined sprites earlier than normal. More and more of them appeared every evening; clustered in flickering shadows at the edge of the tree line. They were scared, skittering little creatures which posed little or no threat at all on their own, but en-masse could destroy even a powerful Guardian such as herself.

The smiling face of her daughter caught her eye from the photo on the wall by the door, and she closed her eyes in prayer and memory.

She knew she was a dying breed; there were so few Guardians left now, and especially so with the loss of her daughter. But there was confidence a youngling would arise, bringing hope to those who remained, and bringing youth and vigour in the place of age and supposed wisdom. All she had to do now was survive long enough to let the youngster find her power. After three hundred years of waiting she had learnt patience, and the knowledge a successor was prophesied gave her hope and strength. Drawing on that strength, she opened her eyes and took a deep fortifying breath, mentally preparing herself for what was to come.

She reached again for her tea, revelling in the brief warmth on her bare skin, deep brown eyes watching as the wind played with the grass, swinging the door to and fro on old hinges. The gentle smiling eyes of the departed watched as the shadows deepened, and the old woman closed her eyes again for a moment... just for a moment...

Her head jerked up from her chest, muscles complaining with the cold induced stiffness. Her arthritic hands nearly dropped the mug, which slopped most of its remaining liquid over the arm of the chair to the kitchen floor.

She was not alone.

Never had she succumbed so easily to the warm comforts of sleep, Autumn's gentle lullaby of wind and leaves pushing her firmly into the lap of dreams. Calming herself, she ignored the tea soaking into the floorboards under her feet, extending her senses beyond her body. They were close, too close, and they knew she had faltered, knew she was tiring, ailing, and unready.

Placing the near empty mug with its swirling dregs back on the table, she shut the kitchen door and prepared herself for what she knew must come. As the last dying embers of the sunset darkened toward night, Gaia sat, savouring the last few moments of light and peace, stilling her troubled spirit, and readying her power.

As the door to the kitchen burst open, and sudden dark movement skittered past her eyes, there was a muffled cry from upstairs. 'Oh dear lord, not now,' she thought and lurched stiffly to her feet, her muscles protesting against the movement, the chair that had previously cradled her slumbering form rasping backwards across the floor.

Gaia lifted her arms as the open door spewed forth its murky offering of woodland sprites, blue fire lancing from her fingers to skewer the myriad chittering forms with neon bright light. She watched with grim satisfaction as they charcoaled in front of her, their forms crumbling to dust.

Standing resolute and ready, feet planted firmly apart, the woman stood silently in the monochrome light of evening, the pale reminiscence of the sun draining away from the horizon. Traces of blue fire flickered over her fingertips as her eyes watched the movements from outside. The sprites danced closer in waves, seeming to dare each other to approach. She knew this pattern; knew at some point one would be stupid enough to risk its life for the prize of her blood, and knew others would follow hoping to get a share of the spoils. A tingling pain in her left arm grew and her vision faltered as she watched, her training compelling her to turn the fire inwards to mend and strengthen her body in anticipation what was yet to come.

"Granma?" A girl's voice questioned from the doorway behind her, and in the split second Gaia turned to respond, a new wave of horror spilled through the doorway.

Instantly she was buried in a mass of writhing and darkened forms, each scrabbling to get close enough to bite her. The creatures crowded in on her, desperate to get in close enough to strike, all with a single minded purpose of drawing the blood from her body and consuming the powerful essence of a Guardian. She screamed, a heart rending sound of bitter despair and failure carrying the knowledge she was doomed, as was the frail child who stood open-mouthed in horror behind her. The moth-eaten and tired looking teddy bear that had had its arm held so tenderly, dropped to the floor in sudden abandonment as the little girl clamped her hands to her mouth and watched her grandmother's struggles. She shrank back against the doorframe and closed her eyes: the teddy's dark button eyes missed nothing.

Gaia fought tooth and nail, her concentration destroyed by the onslaught. Unable to cast her magic, but unwilling to give in to the swarming tide of horror growing by the second, she fought on as more and more of the arboreal released skittered in to attack. The seconds passed in time defying slowness, a myriad of small cuts weakening her as she tried to fend them off, arms lashing into the chittering mass enveloping her, occasional sparks darting from her fingertips as she tried to marshal her powers.

As Gaia fought, her peripheral vision noticed one twisted creature dart away from its fellows to investigate the teddy. It looked up from the dead black button eyes and spied the girl who stood pressed against the door. The child opened her eyes and screamed at the creature. The shrill scream, and the knowledge of what was about to happen to her granddaughter sucked the will to fight from Gaia's body and she herself screamed with dread, not wanting to see what would happen next. She could still hear though, and despite the chorus of exultant cries from the creatures attacking her, she heard a barely audible whisper come from the child behind her.

"Leave my Granma alone."

The last word rose from a whisper to a scream of inchoate rage, the last syllable drawing out into a howl of anger and fear, and everything stopped.

There was a sudden surcease of pain as blue light encompassed the old woman and the room jumped, concussive force slamming her battered form into the floorboards out of the way, and obliterating those who attacked her.

Grasping to retain consciousness, she looked up to see her granddaughter standing in the doorway, a look of grim determination plain on her tiny face, her hands raised and fingers splayed, lightning slashing at the forms attacking her, one pile of dust directly in front of the girl. As Gaia watched, the blue light continued to play over the shrieking and rapidly disintegrating forms of the sprites who crumbled around her, rending and destroying, reducing them all to dust. As the last crumbled, the door slammed shut and a mirror thin field of fire was imposed over the doors and windows of the house.

The old woman slumped back to the dusty boards and smiled in relief. Her eyes closed once more, and she lost herself in blessed darkness.

Gaia awoke a short time later to find the girl looking at her from a cross legged position next to her head, one hand extended to caress her cheek. Her teddy held loosely in the other hand, she smiled and stood up, dragging the fluffy form's feet carelessly across the floor.

"I swept up the dust Granma, and I've put the kettle on. Would you like a cup of tea?"

Groaning, the old woman levered herself into a sitting position and rubbed her gritty eyes. The girl helped her to her feet and, as the kettle whistled its merry tune through the house, Gaia lifted it from the range and looked out of the window. For the first Autumn night in many years, there was no sign of movement from outside the house. They were scared she realised, scared of the power of a new Guardian.

She looked down at the little girl and smiled leaning over to cup her chin in one hand. "Thank you child," she said. "You did well."

"I didn't like them very much Granma, they were hurting you." She held up her teddy. "And Mr. Tumnus didn't like them much either."

Gaia hugged the girl fiercely, exulting in the fact that all she had hoped for had come true, and a lot sooner than she had thought it might. She set out two cups on the kitchen worktop, and reached into the biscuit jar for a couple of cookies. The photo caught her eye and she smiled back at the ever smiling picture of her daughter, the old teddy bear visible on a shelf behind her in her old room.

"Mr. Tumnus has always had good taste in friends," she said. "He was the same when I had him as a child."

Mr. Tumnus said nothing...

~~~ The End ~~~