(Picks up where The Rusted King and the Drum left off)
Three fairies perched on sainted heads; halos
ringed their whispered conference; while below drum
beats ceased as drummer boy and son, made slow
progress to the doors, while echoes still hum.
‘Twas clear to the fairies that the duo
had no a clue ’bout the season’s reason
for celebration; they can’t let that go.
Ignorance is a war that must be won!
So off they floated after the drummer
and his son through quiet halls of fortress,
hiding in mosaic glow, their dimmer
fairy light, they’d an idea to address.
They reached a suite, nutcracker in repose;
With its help, ignorance would be deposed!
~ ~ ~
Sarn set the drum down beneath the dark tree
beside a bearded nutcracker and yawned.
Time to sleep, but his son’d spied ‘neath the tree
a nutcraker and over it he fawned.
Sarn showed him its operation, cracking
nuts on request and got no rest at all–
The nutcracker started glowing and growing,
the Christmas tree too; white light blinded all.
When it cleared Sarn wore the nutcracker’s garb,
his son danced, joyful at the sight of toys
who stood ready for war with weapons barbed
and shouldered for the parade of new toys.
At all this Sarn could just stare in wonder
and to this strange dream, he must surrender.
~ ~ ~
A tap to Sarn’s shoulder spun him around
to face the nutcracker, questions o’erflowed,
but the nutcracker pointed to a shroud
falling o’er the tree, a nine headed toad.
Its mouths gaped wide in ribbit speech, then it charged.
Nutcracker shoved Sarn, weaponless at that
toad while his son scampered away; toys barged
into the fight, swung ornaments like bats,
Each time they struck a head, it grew one more.
Toys fell ’till none could take their place, even
the nutcracker fell leaving Sarn no more
allies save one bear keeping his son penned.
Defeat stared at Sarn reflecting many
times in toad’s many eyes, but no pity.
~ ~ ~
The fairies watched all this huddled in the tree.
Something’d gone wrong and their plan seemed ruined.
They’d borrowed magic from the Christmas tree
to make this dream, could a way lay therein?
Sarn dodged a head, his magic tearing free,
unfettered now it unlaced the dream, brought
reality crashing down and shrank the tree.
His costume changed back to Ranger green; naught
had altered about the suite. It bore no
mark of the struggle; that toad hopped away
and all was at it should have been, but no
thing could wipe that very strange dream away.
The fairies drifted off, perhaps next time,
a vision of Christmas’ past, would be sublime.
~ ~ ~
The story continues in Seconds.
Part of my ongoing Advent series featuring the cast of the Curse Breaker Saga. You can find the rest in order on my Holiday page. You can also find non-holiday themed vignettes on my Tales of Shayari page.
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Inspired by Tale Weaver #43 – Fairy Tale Prompt and I’m quite certain this is not what they had in mind. 🙂
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Thank you for reading.