Fairy Queen of Faerieland; Queen Mirianelle

Fairy Queen of Faerieland

Queen Mirianelle

Copyright 2016 Darren Zeno

Published by Darren Zeno at Smashwords

This book is published for your personal enjoyment.

This book may not be resold or given away.

The author thanks you for your support.

Table of Contents

Preface

Chapter One; Family History

Chapter Two; Glorious Jaunt

Chapter Three; Fortunate Rescue

Chapter Four; Golden Reward

Chapter Five; Lost Trail

Chapter Six; Centertree

Chapter Seven; The Ladies Tree

Chapter Eight; My Story

Chapter Nine; Faerieland

Chapter Ten; Severing

Chapter Eleven; Berries in Hand

Chapter Twelve; Questions Pour Forth

Chapter Thirteen; Attack

Chapter Fourteen; Revelation

Chapter Fifteen; Poor Memory

Chapter Sixteen; Counter Effect

Chapter Seventeen; Motherseed

Chapter Eighteen; Mystery Item

Chapter Nineteen; Magic Mushroom

Chapter Twenty; Titania’s Wand

Chapter Twenty-One; Broken Heart

Chapter Twenty-Two; New Fairy

Chapter Twenty-Three; Wand Art

Chapter Twenty-Four; Light Explosion

Chapter Twenty-Five; Long Live the Queen

Chapter Twenty-Six; Good Dreams

Chapter Twenty-Seven; Missing Lunch

Prologue

Preface

Our world has become a dark place, and it is getting darker every day. But there is something that can be done about it, there is even a way that you can help. Read on to find out what that is.

Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Benwist Brindy, but everyone calls me Ben.

And what might your name be?

Good, now that we’ve been introduced, I have a story for you to read. The adventures written of in this tale happened to me exactly as described.

Being an energetic young man I’d decided to take a walk one day not long ago, and that walk changed my life forever.

When I returned home, I told anyone who would listen what I’d witnessed, and what I’d done. The most common reaction I received was, Oh; what an interesting dream.

And when I got persistent; I heard. You’ve got quite an imagination.

And when I got insistent, I saw looks on faces that suggested I was moments away from meeting the good doctors at the asylum.

Well that made me quit telling my tale, but I couldn’t let the events of that day become just some random memory in my future self’s old befuddled mind.

I thought my parents and teachers and friends would be able to help, and though they always supported me, none of them ever really believed I saw what I said I saw. I know now that it is the kids I need to tell my story to.

Children are much smarter than most adults give them credit for. And as everyone knows, the children are our future, and they are vitally instrumental in making the changes needed to ensure our planets survival.

I sit now and write the story down, all of it, just like it happened.

The following is my tale, read it and know the truth. Oh, yes; there is one more thing, keep an eye out for crows.

Chapter One; Family History

The Brindy family history has a strange twist to it. You see; I am the seventh son of the seventh son for the seventh time. Not like in the old fables though, you see I am an only child. My father was an only child. My grandfather was an only child; his father was an only child and so on going back forty-nine generations of which we have written family history. No doctor or priest or prophet or midwife has ever been able to explain why, but in the Brindy family, you have one son and no matter how hard you try; that’s it.

A while back, one of my ancestors figured out that I would be the seventh only child son of the seventh only child son for the seventh time in our genetic line, and it has long been considered an omen in our family. Great things have been expected of me my whole life, only I’ve never really been capable of great things. I am pretty good at many things, but not really exceptional at any one particular trait or skill.

As far as looks go, I am kind of tall and fairly goofy looking, at least that’s how I see myself, all limbs and awkwardness.

I have my mother Crissette’s reddish brown hair, that never goes the way I comb it, boring brown eyes and way too many freckles for my liking. And to top it all off, my ears stick out and I have a rather large nose.

I try and make up for my lack of handsomeness by smiling a lot, and by not worrying so much about looks in the first place.

My family owns the largest ranch in the territory, the Rainbow Sheep Ranch. Called thus; even though there hasn’t been a single ram, ewe or lamb on the property for many decades now. And never one that had multi-color stripes.

The ranch is named the way it is because of the rainbow that always emanates from the woods behind our home after wet skies.

When I was a small child; my mom would always grab my hand when we would see one overhead and she’d whisper in my ear about leprechauns living at the ends of those rainbows. She’d tell me that everything there was golden and that they lived in magic tree houses.

Those were special memories for me that stopped happening not long after I hit the ripe old age of nine and foolishly decided I was man enough to tell my mom I didn’t care about silly rainbows anymore. Something I’ve regretted doing ever since.

Well; it’s not too late to make a change, turn a bad thing into a good one. The very next time I see a rainbow; I plan on grabbing my mom’s hand.

But I digress, so back to the short family history lesson. All of it happened right here. The Brindy’s have owned and worked this property since before the days of written records. At one time, there were thousands of sheep grazing the land, then for many years the family bred and trained show horses.

Our family had been pretty successful raising sheep, but somewhere along the line one of my great great grandfather’s great grandfather’s father had received a horse for a gift, and he was so enamored of his pet that when that ancestor inherited the ranch he got rid of the sheep and built training grounds and stables and converted the place to a horse farm. He just never bothered to change the name. Ergo, Rainbow Sheep Ranch, with nary a sheep in sight. And because that is pretty odd, to say the least, we usually just call it Rainbow Ranch

The Brindy family always had a great reputation for quality stallions and mares, unfortunately, my grandpa Ferrel wasn’t as good at raising horses as our ancestors had always been. Grandpa Ferrel had a soft heart and he tended to fall in love with every newborn foal, and then would refuse to sell them.

My own father Danbert Brindy is a banker, and it is his money that has kept the ranch operational for the last so many years, and he has actually been able to extend the family fortune quite a bit.

Which means that I am free to pursue pretty much anything I wish to, so of course I am completely unsure what I want to be. For now; I am going to school; studying whatever strikes my fancy.

Our wealth also allows my parents plenty of free time, and lets them follow their passions. They have always loved to travel, and have just taken up skiing, and are very excited about their new pastime.

When grandpa Ferrel died last winter, a loss I still feel greatly, my father sold all the equipment and paraphernalia that go with running a breeding ranch, and then sold almost all the horses.

The only exceptions being Rasher, my horse of choice to ride, and Prissess, my mom’s preferred ride. Dad didn’t have a favorite; because he didn’t have much of anything to do with the horses. I had heard my Grandma Mettie tell my mom once that dad had been nipped when he was a young child, and he’d never gotten over it.

After selling all the animals; dad also had to let all the locally hired help go. The riders, walkers, grooms, stall muckers and rest, just weren’t needed anymore. We now have just one girl, Taline, a pretty teenage girl from the Sacred Light orphanage a few miles down the road, who comes six days a week and takes care of the needs of the remaining two horses.

The dismantling of our family business was