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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1266843-Rayne-Forest
by Cutter
Rated: E · Short Story · Fantasy · #1266843
Created for the WDC Short Shots writing contest.
Rayne Forest



Rayne hovered outside the window of a small apartment on the Upper East Side, shivering in the cold, damp air of dusk. Not for the first time since he left, he thought longingly of his home in the base of the giant oak tree in Central Park; of his little door with the oversized knocker, which he felt helped assert his masculinity as a pixie.

He’d been summoned from his warm home and sent here on an important errand for Mother Nature herself, a fact which slightly irritated Rayne because as far as he was concerned, he was in a self-imposed exile from the Forest Folk. His residence in Central Park was his way of being a part of the forest while remaining apart from it. He was not happy about being forced back into servitude just because Mother Nature needed him.

Rayne gazed in the window at the young man squatting on the edge of his couch. No older than eighteen years, he was a skinny boy in baggy jeans and a dirty t-shirt. His dusty blonde hair was long and unkempt and his bright blue eyes were fixed on the mesmerizing screen of the mind numbing device the humans called a ‘television set’.

Rayne was tempted again to just go back home but he knew that Mother Nature would never forgive him for it. He sighed, scattered some pixie dust on the window sill and chanted a few words which caused the window to unlatch and open just enough for him to squeeze in, which he did quickly to avoid detection. Unfortunately, in his haste, he let the spell end a split second too soon and the window came crashing shut on his left wing. He managed to withhold the curse which hung on his lips and quickly turned to yank the wing loose. Pain throbbed from his insect-like wing as he checked it over for permanent damage. Satisfied that he would suffer no lasting effects, Rayne turned back to the one bedroom apartment.

The couch was empty.

Frantically, Rayne flitted up into the air and zipped around the kitchen/dining room/living room of the tiny dwelling looking for signs that the young man was still there. He got his sign as a rolled up newspaper came flashing out of nowhere and swatted him powerfully out of the air. Blinded by stars, Rayne crashed down heavily on the cluttered coffee table between the couch and the television.

Dazed and confused, with a throbbing headache, Rayne tried pitifully to regain his feet before another blow came, but dizziness consumed him and he collapsed again. Too late, the world around him suddenly became a refracted blur as a mostly empty jelly jar was slammed down around him, trapping him in a sticky, grape prison.

Still half curled in a fetal position on the table, Rayne did not see the giant, distorted eyes looking at him through the glass, though he couldn’t miss the booming voice of the kid, who said with delight, “Whoa, you have go to be the biggest dragonfly I have ever seen!”

Immediately offended by the comparison, Rayne forced himself upright and turned to face his captor. Dressed in black breeches and a grey tunic, very unlike his fellow pixies, with his long, thinning hair pulled back into a straight pony tail, Rayne stood straight and tall, staring the boy down with all the intimidation he could muster in his three-inch magnificence.

“Hey! Do I look like a friggin’ dragonfly to you, junior?” Rayne bellowed menacingly through the jar in his thick New York accent.

Startled, the boy jumped back, yelling, “Holy crap, you can talk!”

Taking advantage of the boy’s surprise, Rayne continued, “You bet I can talk! And I’m gonna do a whole lot more than that if you don’t lemme outta this thing right now! You hear me?!”

“No way,” the boy said leaning close to the jar again, “I ain’t letting you out of there. You might be diseased or something.”

Rayne was quickly loosing patience with the kid and briefly toyed with the idea of turning the boy’s ears into rabid hamsters, just for a laugh, but Mother Nature’s words quickly interfered, reminding him of his mission.

William McKay is very special and very important to us. He must not be harmed in any way. He is the Avatar.

Rayne took a deep breath, exhaled slowly and said, “Look, kid, I’m a friend, alright? I’m just here to give you a message.”

“What are you?” William asked curiously, ignoring Rayne’s statement, “Are you like, a faerie or somethin’?”

“I ain’t no faerie, kid,” Rayne replied, “I’m a pixie. Big difference.”

“You look like a faerie,” William said peering closer, “Except, aren’t faeries supposed to be dressed in like, pink and purple and stuff?”

“I don’t do pink,” Rayne responded bluntly.

“Oh c’mon, I bet you look cute in pink,” William teased, “A little pink tutu with a wand and a tiara, you’d make one fine Tinkerbelle.” The boy burst out in laughter.

Rayne didn’t like being teased. He’d been teased for most of his life by other pixies, faeries, and other Forest Folk, for things like his balding head. Being mocked was the whole reason he moved to Central Park to begin with. And if this jokester didn’t shut up soon, he wasn’t going to like the consequences, Avatar or not.

“Hey, do you wanna hear the message or not?” Rayne asked impatiently, trying to change the subject.

Again, William ignored the question and asked, “What’s your name?”

Annoyed, the pixie responded, “Rayne. Okay? My name is Rayne.”

“Rain? Like as in, water that falls from the sky, Rain?”

“No, not as in, water that falls from the sky, Rain," Rayne mimicked, "Just Rayne. Got it?”

“Oh, well sorry,” William feigned apology, “I didn’t mean to… Rayne on your parade.” He burst into laughter again.

Rayne did not respond. He stared coldly at William, waiting for the laughter to pass. He was not going to dignify the boy’s mockeries with any kind of response. After several moments, William finally calmed down and looked at Rayne. When he saw that the pixie was not amused he said, “Oh, fine. What is this, important message, you have for me?”

Satisfied that the kid was finally listening, Rayne began, “You, William McKay, are—”

“Whoa, whoa,” William interrupted, “Don’t call me William. I hate that name. Call me Billy.”

“Fair enough,” Rayne conceded, “Look, Billy, this may come as a shock, but you gotta hear it. You believe you’re an orphan.”

“I am an orphan. My mother died the day I was born.”

“Your human mother, yes. It sucks it had to be that way, but it was necessary. You see, your true parents are very much alive.” Rayne paused to let the news sink in.

Billy didn’t need time to let it sink in. He asked immediately, “Well who are they? Where are they?”

Rayne took a deep breath and answered, “You, Billy, are the only begotten Soul Child of Mother Nature and Father Time.”

Billy did not respond. He sat quietly with a confused look etched on his face. Finally, a smile crept across his stone visage.

“You’re puttin’ me on,” he said nervously.

Rayne barked a laugh and shook his head. “I wish. Look, have you ever heard of the Green War?”

Billy shook his head.

“The Green War is the battle between Nature and Human Beings for control of the Earth,” Rayne explained, “You see, between pollution and expansion, you humans are slowly killing the Earth. And Nature has been fighting to survive. Well, the time has come for Nature to take a stand. No longer will it be passive-resistive. The Forest Folk—Pixies, Faeries, Fawns, all of Nature—are going to attack the humans; to drive them back. It’s the only way to slow them down and keep them from destroying themselves along with all life on the Earth.”

Rayne paused for dramatic effect, and then added, “And you, are gonna lead them.”

“What?” Billy asked in surprise, “Why would I do that?”

“Because you are the Chosen One; the Avatar,” Rayne replied.

“So you just expect me to lead a war against my own kind, because you tell me some cock ‘n bull story about being the son of Mother Nature? This is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard.”

“Look, you may have a human body,” Rayne explained, “But your soul was created by Mother Nature and Father Time to be very special. They haven’t manifested themselves yet, but you have special powers that will help you lead this war. It’s only a matter of time before you start to feel your true calling.”

“My true calling to be the end of humanity,” Billy said dryly.

“Not the end, kid,” Rayne corrected, “The beginning. The beginning of a cleaner, healthier Earth. If you don’t believe me, you can ask Mother Nature yourself. I’m here to take you to her; tonight; right now.”

Billy McKay sat quietly on the couch, contemplating his situation. Rayne waited, but his patience was wearing thin. He was tired; tired of the jar; tired of smelling grape. He was tired of this kid. He just wanted to go back to his tree in Central Park, with the little door and the large knocker and be left alone. He decided that Billy had had enough time to think.

“So are you coming with me or what?” Rayne asked impatiently.

“No,” Billy said quietly. He glanced at Rayne, held his gaze for several seconds, and then the corner of his mouth crept up into a smile. “I’m gonna have to take a… Rayne-check on this one!”

Billy’s idiotic laughter echoed off the walls of his sparse apartment and Rayne decided he’d had enough. Shaking a little pixie dust out, he chanted a few words. The jelly jar instantly became a soap bubble, which Rayne popped easily with a jab of his finger. He then went to work casting a spell that should at least shut the boy up for a while, if not make him a little more useful.


* * *


It was almost midnight when Rayne finally arrived at his home in Central Park. Approaching his oak tree, he just could make out the forms of two visitors waiting for him. As he reined in his mount and came to a stop by the tree, he was greeted by Wynd Elementia, a cousin of his who served in the Natural Court, and Mother Nature, whose visage was presented by a swirl of leaves and grass forming the face of a beautiful woman.

Still sitting atop his mount, Rayne nodded to Wynd, whom he had not seen since he left the Forest. His cousin was not so cordial.

“You return alone, Cousin. Weren’t you supposed to bring someone back with you?” When Rayne did not answer, Wynd demanded, “Where is the boy?”

Suddenly feeling somewhat ashamed of his actions, Rayne dismounted his ride, glanced into its eyes, and smiled sheepishly at Mother Nature. Then Wynd understood.

“You turned him into a squirrel?!” Wynd bellowed.

“He was being… uncooperative,” Rayne explained awkwardly.

“A pink squirrel!” Wynd was exasperated beyond words. Mother Nature simply gazed at Rayne pityingly.

Rayne got defensive. “Hey, the kid gave me no choice, alright!” he argued, “He deserves what he got.”

“I knew it was a bad idea to send you,” Wynd said coldly.

“Look, he’s here and he’s unhurt. What do you want? You can change him back.”

Mother Nature spoke up finally, putting an end to the argument. “Thank you, Raynesco, for your help. You have done the Natural Court a great service. We shall take it from here.”

Rayne bowed politely to Mother Nature, glared at his cousin, winked at the boy/squirrel, and went inside, shutting the heavy door behind him.

Once inside, Rayne drew a deep breath and let it out slowly.

Then he chuckled.

Word Count: 1997
© Copyright 2007 Cutter (cuttermckay at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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