my fairytale

how interesting that mountains should play an integral role in my "fairy tale"...

From the mountainside I watched a giant crane fly down beside me and place two of its feathers onto my feet for flight.
I left my home and family to find and entered the woods. I walked deeper and deeper into the world of trees that reached the sky and damp earth that smelled of life, into a world I had always been warned not to enter. The day I left my home, I could sense the adventure that lay ahead. Armed with nothing but courage in my chest and good sense on my shoulders, I let my feet lead me into the great unknown.
Holding my father's blade I cut what kept me from moving. I did not care to look whether it was a serpent's tongue or the branch of a tree.
The little man handed what looked like a small wooden piccolo. The small, thin object looked old but not dusty like the man’s worn garments. "A single note from this musical stick will bring rain from the heavens to satisfy this thirsty land," the little man said to me. "But heed my words, should you be tempted to produce sweet melodies to entertain yourself and those around you, mother nature will heighten the aching of the earth around you: the sky will heave torrents of rain producing a monsoon that will be echoed by the quaking of the earth as it splits, spewing forth fiery magma that will consume you and your vanity.
The mists grew heavy. When I stretched my arm out I could not see past my hand, but it did not matter. When I closed my eyes my feet moved along with the rhythm of the mountain and its soils. Faster and faster I could almost feel myself fly.
Then, as I was about to reach the top of the mountain, a giant form appeared before me in the shape of soil. As I came closer to it I realized that it was not a giant form but composed of hundreds of small people from the earth. The mountain had come alive, and it did not want me to pass its presence.
Dizzy and hallucinatory spells yielded me to the man's desires. As I played his game he pressed one of the playing tablets to my forehead. There it left a mark of doom that I thought would signal my inevitable fate.
But since I had been given my gift I did not fear what stood in front of me. As his body touched mine if fell to the floor covered in a carpet of needles.
In my path stood a young pear tree, that, on first appearance looked wretched and covered with soil. But the second time I looked at it the sapling had already blossomed into a maturity. It grew pears the size of my mother's hands. It waved to me with its branches, beckoning me towards the sweet fruit. As I attempted to climb the three, the leaves enclosed me and stung my skin with nectar.
I was offered a place in the palace, but I could not accept. I wanted to be with the mountain; I felt it move under my skin as I knew part of me was in the mountain too.

--get your own fairytale