Tumble Part 1

~Tumble Part 1~

Once upon a time, at the edge of the woods where the seasons changed as quickly as the mood of the winged sprites, there lived a couple who longed to have a child of their own. Now, this was no ordinary couple, for no matter how hard they could try, they could no produce a child alone, that being because they were both men.

No child aside, however, the couple lived happily along the edges of a river that flowed past their farm and filled the spring nights with crickets and lovebugs and the autumns with passing birds and harvesting beetles. All was well on the couples' farm for many years, as they always had a decent harvest in their fields, and people would visit far and wide to see the extension of their workshop, which was filled with the most colorful of dolls, little wooden soldiers, and modeled homes and castles. Even the finest of collectors could appreciate such work from two humble people, and in time, their work soon became recognized to lands far away where curious bulbs and spell-inducing leaves grew.

One such man from these lands was a merchant, and he was determined to have a doll and a polished model train engine from this couple. The doll would make the perfect gift for his little sister, whom he adored, and the train engine an ideal gift for his little brother who admired him. For many days, he traveled on foot, trekking road by road and crossing rivers narrow and wide until he managed to find the humble farm where the couple lived.

Now, this merchant had plenty of money, but he was also crafty and stingy. He had heard words from the townsfolk nearby that the couple, while happy, wished for a child. With a little bit of quick thinking, he devised a way to easily obtain what he wanted for cheap. On the same morning he visited the couple, he purchased a pouch of millet from a passing peddler and went on his way.

As expected, the price of a single toy from the couple did not come cheap, while not exactly expensive. It was difficult for two people to run a farm and workshop together, and they could not bring their price down any lower.

In an attempt for the couple to take pity on him, the merchant told the couple of his misfortunes, of how he had been cheated out of his money when trying to buy fish to sell, and ended up with the scraps from the leftover catch. The couple did not, however, know he was lying. It was actually the merchant, himself, who had cheated inexperienced buyers into purchasing cheap fish for a high price. He was very crafty, indeed.

"Please, sirs," begged the merchant in as humble of a voice as he could manage, "my sister is very sweet and my brother kind and good-spirited. I have no money to buy them nice gifts, but I had hoped that you would find it in your hearts to spare a simple man but two gifts. In exchange, I would be willing to offer you something that might interest you." He pulled out the pouch of millet he had bought for no more than a single copper piece out for the couple to see. "This is no ordinary bag of millet, for I received this from a fairy whose life I saved. She told me if you plant the millet in rock-less soil, water it with water never boiled, and bathe it in the light of the full moon, a child will sprout from the pods of these seeds."

The couple, astonished, had never heard of such magic before. They had heard of tales from the fairies who could bring good fortune to those who deserved it, but never had they heard of an ordinary man bestowing such an opportunity upon them.

Excited, Tino, the younger of the two pleaded with the older one to consider the offer. "Berwald, just imagine!" he excitedly clapped his hands. "A child of our own! And for the price of a doll and a toy train! They are such simple gifts to make. Will we not help this merchant out?"

Berwald loved Tino very much, and for the price of two toys, seeing his beloved so happy was more than enticing. With little else to consider, he agreed to make the presents for the merchant. As their timing would have it, the merchant planned this out ahead of time. He calculated that by the time the couple finished with the toys and planted their millet under the next full moon, he would have been long gone by then. He was truly a sly merchant.

It came to pass that the toys were soon finished, and with his business with the couple done, the merchant thanked the two for their charitable work and set off to return home to his siblings, two toys in tow and a sack of ordinary millet lighter, wearing a triumphant smile all the way.

In the meantime, the couple had planted the millet right away. Day by day, Tino tended to the grains in a personalized pot and hand-sorted each fleck of soil with his own hands to ensure there would not be the slightest pebble in the soil. He and Berwald took turns watering the soil, awaiting the night a full moon would rise into the sky. Their hearts swelled with excitement as the moon grew fuller and rounder with each passing night in high hopes that they would soon have a child. There was still the question of how a simple pouch of millet would produce a healthy child, but fairies' magic was unusual stuff, so they trusted that the merchant's words would ring true on the night of the full moon.

Finally, the long-awaited day arrived. A full moon as round as a pearl was rising into the sky. Together, the couple, having retired from their work for the night, sat together in front of the open windowsill where the potted millet lay bathed in the growing moonlight.

"What should we name the child, Berwald?" Tino asked in pure delight. He was all bounces and smiles in contrast to the silent giant who was perplexed over how something so small could produce something so miraculous. He had his doubts as to whether or not they had been tricked, but for all this was worth, the energy and time spent in grieving would not be worth their labor and love. So, holding Tino's hand, they began to think of names together.

"For a girl, it should be something sweet and delicate and appealing," Tino pondered aloud. "Strawberry Dreams or Ticklepink Poppy. And for a boy, Andersen Mathias Bartholomew the Fourth sounds gallant, does it not?"

Berwald would have said something about his Tino's choice of names, but seeing how alacritous he was, he could not help assisting him in his choices. In the end, they settled on "Tina" for a girl and "Mathias" for a boy.

However, it would seem that perhaps they would not have to decide on either name, for as the night went on, their spirits wore thin. The soil did not stir, the millet did not grow, and no child appeared from the pot. Eventually even Tino with his big heart and high spirits had grown tired of sitting and began to drift off to sleep. Berwald would have stayed awake to observe the pot well into the morning had he not worked the entire day. So, one nod at a time, the couple drifted off to sleep, unaware of the peculiar events unfolding right outside of their barn.

While the couple was falling asleep, a winged sprite, clutching her recently born child to her breast, was trying to escape from a flock of fairies who happened to spot her wings flickering in the moonlit night. Winged sprites were the long-time enemies of fairies, and no matter how many times they encountered one another, they felt a strong need to fight the other. The winged sprite was utterly exhausted from flying for so long, and she knew if she did not act fast, she would lose both her life and her son's.

It did not take long for her to spot none other than the couple sleeping in front of the open windowsill. She faintly remembered these two as being kindly and caring, and she thought they clearly did not deserve any trouble the sprites might cause to their farm. Surely if she left her son with them, he would be safe from the sprites' harm or at least until she could lure the sprites away from this place.

"Forgive me, my son," she whispered and kissed him warmly as she recited a quick mist spell into the air, giving her just enough cover to slip out of the fairies' view and onto the couple's idle flowerpot. The winged sprite then recited another spell, one that made a flower sprout from the soil and wrap its dainty petals over her son for protection. "You will be safe here," she whispered with a heavy heart as she heard the angry chimes of the fairies' wings. "Farewell." And she flew off into the night, drawing the fairies farther away from the good couple and her child.

Not too long after the events that unfolded, Berwald's head slipped from Tino's and stirred him awake. His eyes were weary from the lack of sleep he had received and was confused when he thought he saw a flower blooming in the pot.

It must be a dream, he sleepily thought and nearly dozed off when he thought to take one last look. Adjusting his glasses, he peered ahead at the contents of the pot and blinked multiple times. When the image of the flower did not disappear, he shook Tino awake.

"Tino. Tino, wake up," he whispered. "Somethin' happened."

Tino soon awoke to the sound of Berwald's voice and gasped when he saw the flower in the pot. It was the most beautiful flower either of them had seen. It must have been fairies' magic, for never had they seen such a lovely and exotic flower blooming so late into the autumn.

"Why, it must have grown when we fell asleep, Berwald!" Tino exclaimed. "This is wonderful! The seeds worked!" His heart trembling with excitement, he bent towards the flower and cupped its soft petals in his hands. How wondrous it was that it could bloom so quickly and quietly, he thought, and he kissed the bud so gently that it began to quiver. With the touch of a human's kiss breaking the winged sprite's spell, the flower opened its petals, revealing a tiny baby boy barely the size of their fingernail sleeping in a bundle of what looked like spider's thread and bluebird's down.

"Berwald!" Tino whispered with a high pitch to his voice, for he was extremely elated. "It's a boy! We're parents!"

"So we are," Berwald kindly smiled. It may not have been a fully-grown child, but this little one was theirs now and their responsibility to keep.

"Welcome to our family, Mathias," Tino cooed at the child. "We're your parents. I'm Tino, and this is Berwald."

"Tino, I dun' think he can understand us yet."

"I know, but I just want to make him feel comfortable," he sighed, trying to control the smile on his face. "This is so exciting! We'll be the very best parents, won't we, Berwald?"

"We will," he agreed. "And nothin's gonna happen to him so as long as we are."

It turned out that being a winged sprite raised by humans had its advantages and disadvantages. Having never been properly reared by his true mother who had never returned for him, Mathias never grew wings and was therefor a flightless sprite, unbeknownst to Tino and Berwald. But having worked in his parents' workshop and running around their house, he became strong, handsome, and healthy, complete with sky-blue eyes and unruly thistle-like blonde hair that was as soft as a chick's down.

In order to give him easy mobility around the house and workshop, the couple designed and built pulleys and carts that could operate with simple pulls of thread. Mathias soon learned how to operate these contraptions to get from one place to another.

For the most of his life, he grew in a happy and sheltered lifestyle, watching his foster parents making toys in their workshop during the unusually long winter and tending the fields in the spring. With his growing presence, good fortune smiled on the humble family, bringing healthy amounts of rain and sunshine for the crops and smiles on the customers' faces who wanted to see the tiny person with their own eyes.

In that short half of a year, the child had grown into a young adult, and his innate magical instincts had begun to kick in. No longer did he enjoy the comfortable solitary lifestyle that he was kept in. He felt a thirst for adventure into the unknown and beyond. Knowing how small and prone to trouble he was, Mathias' parents refused to let him beyond the farm unless they were personally accompanying him into town. As their one and only precious child, they refused to let him out of their sights, and that was a feat in of itself, for Mathias was very small.

"It's not fair!" he exclaimed one day as he watched the sparrows singing and flying so freely among the trees. "All of the other kids get to explore the woods behind the town or go skipping stones in the river. I'm already an adult, and you still won't let me go out to explore."

"But Mathias," Tino said, "if you go out, surely you could be gobbled up by a hungry bird or torn apart by a dog."

Mathias pouted and crossed his arms. "But Hanatamago doesn't do that. She's a sweet dog."

"Hanatamago is tame," his father reminded him. "She will not bite or attack unless threated or told to. And she is small compared to most dogs out there. The world is not always kind to small things."

"Then I wish I wasn't born so small," said the frustrated young man. "I can't do anything. I can't reach the cupboard with a simple reach of my hand; I can't walk across the house without using the pulleys; I can't even finish a tiny slice of cake!"

Berwald, overhearing Mathias' bantering, went over to join the two. "Mathias, bein' small has its uses, too. There're creatures that are many times smaller than you, but they all have a part to play in this world. The bees pollinate flowers that bring us fruit for the autumn; the tiny snails eat the dead leaves in the streams that would suffocate the plants b'low; an' the ants clean our crumbs an' even protect plants in exchange for shelter. Even you have yer uses. Yer able to find secret places that Tino and I can't see, and you can fit into cracks of the house and machines that we can't reach with the finest of tools."

Tino looked to his son. "See, Mathias? Being small can be useful, too. As for the cake thing, it's not something you should be ashamed of. It just means there's more for Berwald and me!"

"Tino…" Berwald exchanged a bashful look with him. "Maybe for that, I do wish Mathias had a larger stomach, so you wouldn't overindulge yourself."

"Oh! You're teasing me!" Tino exclaimed. And for a time after that, Mathias had been happy in his position until one summer night.

Normally Mathias slept in a beautifully built bed complete with his own tiny house that overlooked his family's farm. However, tonight there was something different about the air. He thought he heard loud whispers and laughter unlike those from his parents. Curious, he left his bed and went to the window where he saw flickering streaks of light dancing across the sky. He first mistook them for fireflies, as they were small and gave off an otherworldly light, but upon closer inspection, he thought he saw arms and legs that were too long to belong to any firefly.

And their wings! Their wings were dashing shades of the prettiest greens, blues, and purples he had ever seen complete with dust that sparkled and trailed behind them. These must have been the winged sprites that sometimes frequented his parents' farm, he thought to himself as he watched in total awe. How he wished to fly with them so carefree like that. He was just as small as they were, but without wings, he felt alienated from them just like he was to his parents, he sadly thought.

While he was busy watching the winged sprites play, one of them tossed a silvery ball too hard and went sailing into the air and straight for Mathias' open window. Mathias cried in surprise as the ball barely missed him and landed on the windowsill a few paces from him. Stealing himself from the winged sprites, he turned back to see a beautiful ball that appeared to be made of transparent glass but shone with a silver glow. He could not help picking it up and staring at, and as he did, it jingled with the sweetest ring of bells he had ever heard.

Apparently it was just a prized object to the winged folk as it was to Mathias, for one of them flew over to windowsill looking greatly displeased.

"Give that back," he demanded. "That is my brother's ball."

But Mathias would not respond, for he was too captivated by this winged sprite's beauty. He had fluffy, wavy dandelion hair and blue eyes that shone like one of the gemstones a rich customer had once given Berwald for a well-crafted train set. His wings matching in the beauty of his eyes as they seemed to vibrate in midair and scattered dust wherever they carried their owner. They were so thin and transparent, Mathias thought them to be made of gossamer dyed blue. Even his clothes were exotic, as they were noticeably grander than the other winged sprites, complete with a glittering spider web robe and poufy cotton ball cuffs. Curious of all, an odd curly shape and a dot floated idly to the side of his head like accessories, only these ones were detached. Having been raised by two men, Mathias thought nothing wrong of finding this winged being attractive.

The sprite, however, had grown impatient of Mathias simply standing there with the silver ball. Shattering his beautiful image, the fairy snapped at him with a velvety voice that sounded too sweet for his harsh words.

"You're as dense as a log! Did you not hear me when I demanded my brother's ball back?" He flew closer to the transfixed Mathias. "What are you supposed to be, anyway? You're as small as we are, but you don't bear any wings." To inspect him further, he flew twice around Mathias' body before returning outside of the window.

"As I thought," he now smirked with a condescending expression. "You're a sprite who's lost his magic. It's no wonder you have no wings. I expected no less from your inferior species."

Mathias blinked, confused. "Are you a not a winged sprite, then?"

"Me, a winged sprite!" the winged being exclaimed as if insulted. "How dare you put me with those lesser gnats! I'm a fairy, can you not tell?"

"I'm sorry," Mathias sincerely apologized. "I hadn't known."

Seeing that he was hopeless, the fairy crossed his arms. "Well, now you know. But if you really are a wingless sprite, then I wouldn't recommend associating with us again. Such an existence such as yours is a pox to us." He wrinkled his nose as if smelling something gross. "If that was not my brother's favorite toy, I would tell you to keep the tainted thing, but I wouldn't dream of making him cry. Now give it here."

Mathias was hesitant about returning the ball to this fairy. If what this fairy said was true, then they would be long gone after he gave them what they wanted. But he wanted them to stay and hear about their stories of flight and their people. This was the first time he had seen beings as small as him, and while he bore no wings, he felt that he was closer to these folk than his own parents. Again, the fairy grew impatient, but before he could take the ball by force, a different voice arose in the night.

"Mathias?" It was Tino. He must have woken up from the conversation Mathias was having with the fairy.

Before Mathias could react to either person, the fairy had taken off in a flash and was gone by the time Tino came to Mathias' windowsill.

"Wait!" he cried out, nearly falling from the ledge after running foolishly out into the open air.

"Mathias!" Tino cried and caught him by his little nightgown just in time. "What are you doing out at this hour? And what was that just now? You could have killed yourself!"

"Tino!" Mathias gasped. "There was a spri—No, a fairy! There were fairies here!"

"Fairies?" his father repeated. "They showed themselves here?"

"Yes, one of them talked to me!" His voice was high and full of a newfound energy. "They were so amazing, Tino! They were flying, and—" He heavily sighed and looked at the object in his hands. "This belongs to them. The one who spoke with me said this is his brother's favorite toy. Tino, I don't think they're going to come back. We should return this to them."

Tino had to laugh. "Mathias, like the kingdom of winged sprites, the fairies have their own secret hiding place we cannot see. The fairies have powerful magic, too. Surely they will be able to make another ball."

"But…" Mathias stared out the window with a heavy heart. "I was hoping to see them again. Are we really not capable of finding them?"

"Mathias, they have wings," his father reminded him. "As handy as we are, we cannot fly."

At that moment, Mathias remembered what the fairy had told him. "Wings! Tino, the one who spoke to me told me of wings!"

"Oh?"

"He told me I was a wingless sprite and that I had lost my magic. Is that true? Am I a sprite?"

Tino was filled with mixed emotions. Never did he imagine his son to be a sprite, only someone whom he loved very much. The thought had never crossed his mind before, while the merchant told him it was fairies' magic that brought him and Berwald their son. He was too caught off guard to formulate a proper response to those questions.

"Oh, Mathias, who or whatever you are, you're our son and you always will be."

"But that's not what I wanted to hear," he frowned. "It makes more sense. What if I was supposed to be somewhere among them all along? I could have had wings and flown with beautiful people just them like."

"But Mathias, you weren't given to use through fairies or winged sprites," Tino reminded him, while he had told his son this story many times before.

"I know, but I can't help but feel I belong with them," he said with a deep longing in his eyes.

"Oh, Mathias…" At a loss for words, Tino hurriedly shut the window and tucked his son back into bed, allowing him to at least keep the silver ball by his nightstand. When he returned to bed with Berwald, he told him everything Mathias said about the fairies and the possibility he was a wingless sprite.

"What he said might make s'me sense," Berwald considered, "but there's no proof Mathias is a sprite. He would have had to be born from the sprite. We know he wasn't born like that. He's just our son."

"Right, that's what I think, too," Tino agreed, relieved Berwald felt the same way as he did and found sleep in that comfort.

The very next morning, however, the couple woke up to a heart-breaking sight. When Tino went to open the window for some fresh air, he noticed that the tiny windowpane Mathias would venture in and out of was wide open. His nerves a wreck, he removed the roof from his son's little house and saw that Mathias' bed was empty. Laid out on the made sheets was a note with letters just big enough for Berwald to make out with his glasses. Tino brought the note to Berwald not a moment after discovering it and asked him to read it aloud.

Tino, Berwald, Hanatamago, the letter read, for many months have I been your son, and I have been a happy one. You have all brought me such joy and finding ways to make me feel like one among you. However, after hours of pondering last night, I truly believe I have always belonged somewhere else. I am going on a journey to find that place where I belong.

Do not look for me. I will be alright. I know that I will return one day. The rivers run through your farm, and the songs and laughter carry back to your workshop. Know that you are always with me in heart and spirit.

Love,

Mathias

"Mathias, that reckless fool!" Tino burst into tears upon finishing the letter. "Berwald, he'll die out there! There's no possible way he will find his way on foot! The woods belong to the fairies and sprites! It's impossible not to get lost, and there are so many things that will go after him! Berwald, please, we need to find Mathias!"

Berwald could not stand seeing someone he loved being in tears, but it was common knowledge that entering the magical woods was a certain doom to humans. He wanted to tell Tino everything would be alright and that Mathias would return to them as he said in his letter, but he was also rational. There was no guarantee Mathias would be able to come back to them alive, even if they did happen to search him. For someone so small and unaware of the world's outer workings, it could be a dangerous place for a large adventure.

As the couple was grieving over their missing son, the said young man had successfully trekked across the farm and along the river's stream. On his back was a light knapsack consisting of the fairy's silver ball and his favorite cakes and dried fruit, believing he would need nothing else once he arrived at his destination. He decided to stay close to the river so that he would not get lost so easily, and the journey home would be an easy one.

"A simple hop on a leaf will carry me like a boat straight back to the farm!" he proudly thought aloud as he looked past the water's edge and say many healthy, waxy leaves that would all make suitable boats. Perhaps being so small was not so hard, after all.

He knew that the river ran through the woods and straight across the countryside. Considering how casually the fairies were playing last night, he deduced wherever their home was had to be nearby. He wondered how they would treat him if he were to ever come across them. The sprite he spoke with had an impatient temperament about him for not being able to fly, but Mathias hoped that with the right amount of presentation, the fairies would realize how good a person he could be and accept him.

"I should sing a song or build them a lovely toy," he said to himself. "That will impress them for sure!"

But any hopes of meeting the winged folk would have to wait because someone else spotted the tiny man strolling along the river. A squat male frog saw the young man whistling and thought what a lovely tune it was.

"He will make a good husband for my daughter. She has only set her eyes on humans since that boy saved her from that fisherman's net," he croaked to himself and hopped over to meet with the tiny young man. Odd that he was so conveniently tiny, for the only other folks he had seen wandering about were those graceful fairies and those pesky winged sprites. This one had no wings, so he thought it must have been just a tiny human.

"Croak. Little human who sings so sweetly, to where are you going?" the frog asked, hopping in the young man's way.

"I am off to find the winged sprites or the fairies," he announced to the frog. "I will go to whichever I find first."

The frog was not as fast on his feet as he once was, but being old had made him wise in mind. "If you are looking for the winged ones, I can take you there," he told the young man.

Mathias raised his eyebrows. "You can?"

"Yes," the frog croaked. "It's across the river, though, and you will have to find a way across. The next bridge isn't for at least another kilometer away. It would be much faster to cross right now. I could let you sit on my back, and we will ride across if you want."

"That would be very kind of you!" Mathias beamed in good trust. Having always been told the sugar-coated truth by his parents, he had little concept of what it meant to lie so harshly to someone, for in truth, the frog was not going to bring Mathias across the river; he was going to take him right back to his home and daughter where they would soon be married.

"Yes, very good," the frog nodded, quite pleased that his plan was going so well. "Let us go to the river bank, then." Mathias eagerly followed him to the river's edge where the currents were not as strong. "It is a dangerous crossing, so take care not to fall off."

Cautiously, Mathias sat atop the frog's back, slightly disturbed that it was not dry and smooth but wet and slippery. Holding on only seemed to make his grip worsen, so he had to settle with keeping as much balance as he could.

"Are you secure?" the frog asked his traveling companion.

"Y-Yes, quite," he responded in a wary voice.

"Croak. Then we are off." The frog waddled into the water and began to swim through the currents. He allowed the waters to carry him down the banks in a diagonal pattern until they came to a bed of reeds squarely in the middle of the river's fork. Mathias was confused, but he trusted the frog and allowed him to take him deeper into the reeds until he could no longer see either side of the river.

"Good sir frog, is this truly the way across?" he finally asked when the cattails towered above his head.

Having seen that the young man was trapped, the frog gleefully croaked in triumph. "Foolish young man, we are not going across the river. Why, you are going to live among us in the reeds. I will introduce you to my daughter whom you will marry."

Mathias was horrified at the thought of marrying a frog. They were not soft or appealing creatures, and he certainly did not much care for eating bugs all day long. "I would have never agreed to hop on your back if you were going to force me to marry your daughter," he told the frog.

The frog only merrily croaked a laugh. "That is exactly why I tricked you, silly boy. You would not have agreed to give up your adventure, otherwise, so I lied to you."

Now Mathias was upset. This would put a halt in his journey. He looked at his surroundings. Even if he knew how to swim, the currents underneath would sweep him down and drown him—that or he would make a quick meal for the fishes.

Completely hopeless to what was to come, Mathias could only sit on the frog's back and hope he and his daughter would have mercy on him. He would need to figure a way out of this predicament before the rest of his life was boiled down to eating bugs.

"Good daughter, see what I have brought you!" the frog suddenly called out into the reeds. As the natural stalky barrier parted away, Mathias could see the frog's home was built around a still-moving pond, safe from the currents outside. There was even a small patch of muddy land and lily pads in this place, so at the very least, Mathias would not immediately drown.

A smaller frog came out from the still pool and blinked its boggling eyes at Mathias. At the sight of him, the frog hopped out of the water and onto a lily pad and began to ribbit in joy.

"A human!" she delightfully croaked. "Father, this is a wonderful gift!"

"Indeed," the frog, whom Mathias presumed to be her father, agreed. "This young man is to be your husband."

"I am not!" Mathias was quick to protest. "I am looking for someone! I have no time to be meandering with you water folk, and I have no intentions of marrying a frog! They are slimy creatures that eat insects and worms!"

This did not help the situation at all. Hurt by his tone and words, the frog's daughter began to weep, making Mathias feel slightly sorry for the creature; she did nothing to deserve get her feelings hurt, as her father only meant to make her happy. This made her father very angry, however.

"Making my daughter cry like that! For that you will sleep on the lily pads tonight without dinner!" He swam to the lilies far from the muddy bank and threw Mathias off his back. He then went to comfort his daughter, leaving the young man with little sense of direction and idea of what to do next.

"As if I would want to eat bugs for dinner!" he angrily snorted and went to wash the frog's slime off his pants and hands. "I never would have thought frogs of all creatures could pull such trickery!" Feeling hungry now, he dug into his knapsack and ate a dried candied peach slice. He still had plenty of food, so until he figured a way out of here, he did not have to worry about eating the frogs' food just yet.

A day passed since Mathias was first stranded on the lilies. In that time, he saw the family of frogs decorating the mud bank with flowers and china lanterns of fireflies and inviting all of their amphibian friends to the reed cove. All were in attendance for the upcoming wedding. Ms. Salamander had a spitfire personality that matched her bold yellow and black spots. Sir Toad was pompous and gruff and somehow uglier than the frogs. The one fellow Mathias liked was Mr. Turtle, for he was wise and patient; he listened to Mathias' tale and how he hoped to one day return the silver ball to the fairies and become their friends.

"Ah, good Mathias," for he was the only one who had bothered to learn of Mathias' name, "the fairies are a very proud folk. They are unlike the winged sprites who possess clever magic and mischief. I cannot imagine someone as pure-hearted as you making friends with the winged sprites, even if you were to express a high level of kindness to them. Your luck is best kept with the fairies, that is, if you can find them."

"Why?" Mathias asked. "Are they hard to locate?"

Mr. Turtle rested his tiny head against the lily pad. "Both are elusive creatures. From what I've heard, I can say that the seasons here are ruled by the mood of the winged sprites. If they are feeling festive, the springs are long; generous, and their summers and autumns will reign for extended weeks; and there are times when they experience grief and sorrow. That is when winters are the coldest and harshest. A long winter is never a good sign where winged sprites are."

Mathias scratched his head. "I remember my parents telling me that this year's winter was longer than it should have been, but the springs still came. I don't remember too much, though. I was an infant back then."

"You would not have wanted to remember this winter," Mr. Turtle rapidly shook his head. "It was dreadful, dreadful. I had to hibernate a long time last year. I was afraid I wouldn't make it."

"Oh, Mr. Turtle…" Mathias did not wish anything ill upon the turtle, for he had heard rom Berwald that turtles could live a long time. He wondered how old this one was.

"Hmm, I do wish I could help you continue your journey, good Mathias, but I am too cumbersome and slow. I have not seen a fairy or a winged sprite in quite some time, over ten years now. I would be of no help to you. Besides," he looked to the muddy bank that was starting to look quite beautiful now, "helping you would put me in an awkward spot between you and my friend."

"It would," Mathias agreed. "Very well, then. I will leave you to do as you please, Thank you for listening to me, Mr. Turtle."

"Think nothing of it," he replied. "It's always nice to hear stories from different folks around the woods." And with that, the turtle swam away to rejoin his friends while Mathias huddled around the lilies. He had eaten through a fifth of his provisions now, and his knapsack was starting to feel light. He did not want to stick around to resort to eating bugs and had to think quickly if he wanted to escape.

In his thought, he reached into his knapsack and pulled out the silvery ball. Its magnificent glow and gentle jingle soothed his spirits and helped clear his mind. It had a lovely color to it, and he could see why it would be someone's favorite toy.

As it turned out, perhaps the ball would not be a favorite to just one individual. Stalking in the reeds outside, a grand heron was stalking through the water looking for little fishes and perhaps an unfortunate tadpole to eat. As it reared its head to observe its surroundings, it saw a peculiar glint in the middle of the cattails and thought to take a closer look, for it loved the way it glimmered in the sparse sunlight overhead.

Picture its surprise when it craned its neck to see a family of tasty frogs all gathered in one location! It soon forgot about the pretty shiny thing it saw and started pecking away at its new meal. Happily, the heron began to jab at the frantic amphibians with its mighty beak and swallowing bits and pieces one by one. What a feast it was having!

Meanwhile, down below in the same clearing, Mathias saw frogs being eaten left and right. The toad had long since buried itself deep into the mud, and the turtle was out of sight. The salamander had no need to worry, for its bright colors indicated a heavy poison to the heron should she be eaten. The turtle, however, was calling Mathias over in the ruckus.

"Mathias, here!" he shouted from a short distance away. Seizing his chance, Mathias hurled his knapsack onto his back and jumped from lily pad to lily pad until he leapt right onto Mr. Turtle's back.

"Thank you, friend," he breathed and took one look back at the chaos unfolding. He could not remember which frog was which, but he wondered if the frog who had brought him here was eaten or not. Whatever the case, he was finally free from the confinements of his watery prison and getting out of these reeds.

As Mr. Turtle swam, he gave a hearty chuckle to the events that were unfolding behind them. "That is nature running its course, young Mathias," he told him. "The frogs were good friends, but I've come to the age where I've learned that nothing lives forever. They were bound to become a meal at some point. That is how things work. It's best not to become attached to the woodland creatures here. The hawk must eat, and the trout must swim. The woodcutter must chop trees for warmth, and the beaver needs shelter."

"I-I see…" Mathias' body gave a little shudder. "The world is so big. My parents have told me of what is out there, but never did I think it would reach out in so many vast ways."

"Indeed, that is something you would do well to learn," the turtle nodded. He soon brought Mathias to the other side of the river where the currents ran lightly. "Now, I may not remember this exactly, but that last time I recall spotting any fairies was one autumn past the thick trees beyond this river. The denser the woods, the likelier you are to find mysterious things, but know this, Mathias: not all mysterious things are good, not all are bad."

The young traveler took note of that. "Thank you for all of your help, Mr. Turtle. I am…sorry for your friends. I wish there was some way we could have worked this out without things becoming the way they were."

"Bah, I am too old for such intimacy. If you do find what you are looking for, however, be sure to stop by the pond in the other farm sometime. I do love a good story every now and then."

"I will be sure to remember that. Thank you again." And they parted ways, Mathias venturing deeper into the woods, and Mr. Turtle returning to his watery home.

As he walked, Mathias felt an unsettling air about the place. No longer did he have a good sense of direction. While he trusted the turtle, he was not sure what he would find beyond the deep, dark trees. The river at least led back to Tino and Berwald's farm; here, there was no telling what was in store for him.

"But I will not get anywhere by being prudent," Mathias told himself. "I must go onward!"

He continued to walk for a long time. The hours drew into the night, and with the night came many days after that. He had since gone through his provisions and resorted to other means of getting food. There were mushrooms that grew at the foot of fallen trees that he knew were safe to eat, and in the morning, he harvested the dew from grass in his little glass jar. Soon, however, Mathias' spirits were starting to dwindle. The turtle had not lied to him when he said the fairies and sprites were elusive creatures.

"This is too much!" he tiredly sighed as he lay on a bed of moss. "I will never find the fairies now!" His clothes were dirty and his stomach hungering for more than mushrooms. He missed his parents and the warmth of his bed. "And I had promised that I would see them again…" He wanted to cry because of his misfortune. He was hopelessly lost, cold and hungry. He would have done anything to be able to eat and sleep comfortably at this point. The night being young, he wallowed in his misfortune, searching for a speck of optimism to cling onto for the waking morning. It was only until he gazed upon his silver glowing ball that he finally drifted off to sleep, dreaming of the beautiful fairy he had spoken to for what seemed like an eternity ago.

When Mathias awoke, he nearly jumped out of his skin. There, staring at him with long antennae and goggling eyes, stood a giant black beetle with a dark shell and a hefty-looking pair of mandibles.

"Ack! A beast is here to devour me!" he cried in alarm and sprung back to fend off the creature with a dead twig.

"Peace, strange one," the beetle clicked and chirped. "I noticed how thin and weary you have become. Would you not take shelter in my home?"

Mathias had never seen such a creature before; his knowledge of the insect kingdom was limited to ants, butterflies, ladybugs (to which he did not know belonged to the same family as this fellow), bees, mosquitoes, flies, and a few others. He had never seen a bug so large and unsightly. At least spiders had their uses, but he could not imagine what a beetle's uses were. That was not to say he was quick to judge based on appearances; he simply had too little energy to fuel his curiosity or patience with a stranger.

"That's very kind sir…er…"

"Beetle," the beetle said. "I am a beetle, can you not tell?"

"No. Sorry."

The beetle chirped. "That is alright, though I cannot imagine why you would not know what a beetle is. We always scavenge the ground looking for food as you must be doing." Mathias' stomach growled almost as if on cue. He embarrassingly looked to the beetle and thought perhaps any food was better than none. Just to be safe, he thought to ask of what the beetle ate.

"Should I go with you, what sorts of things might you be able to offer me?"

"Lots of things," the beetle answered, wriggling his antennae. "We, beetles, eat several things, as you see, we aren't too picky. We enjoy a variety of bark, dead leaves, fruits, nuts, and tender roots." Bark and dead leaves Mathias could do without. The fruits and nuts sounded enticing, however, thus he agreed to go with the beetle.

"Splendid," the beetle happily clicked. "Ah, but if you are going to accept my hospitality, you need to offer some sort of compensation."

"What sort of compensation?" Mathias asked.

"Why, you are an exotic creature among these grounds. I would love for you to sing and put on a show for me, if you can."

Mathias was not exactly the performing type, but if the beetle was so kind as to take him in, he saw little reason to refuse. "Alright, I'll do that for you then."

And so, Mathias was treated to a feast of stashed fruits and nuts. He ate until he thought he would burst. Even his once empty knapsack was packed to the brim. The beetle offered him what he proclaimed was the tastiest bark and detritus, but Mathias had politely refused and left those to his host. Afterwards, the beetle decorated his guest with various flower petals and spider's thread. Looking in a pool of water, Mathias thought he looked quite ridiculous, but the beetle insisted that he was presentable.

"A few songs will do. Put on a show to entertain us in our final days. We do not have long to live, so we must rejoice."

"Not long to live?" Mathias quietly muttered. He wondered if they were like some spiders and butterflies that lasted no more than a single season. It was an unfortunate and rather short life to live for creatures so fascinating. Compared to Tino and Berwald and even Mr. Turtle, such bugs were gone within the blink of an eye. Holding onto new determination, Mathias proceeded to the stage prepared and gazed upon his audience.

"What a strange bug he is!" exclaimed a centipede, a frighteningly long bug with several pairs of wriggling legs and an even larger mandible than the beetle's.

"Ssss!" a cockroach hissed. "It is soft, this one! The colors are strange, too!"

"Soft is good. Better to get the juices flowing." The one who said this was the creature far in the back and away from everyone else. This was a praying mantis, and she was quite the elegant and formidable member of the audience.

These and many other colorful folk were who Mathias would be performing for. He stood in complete shock at what he could do to entertain them until they began to grow impatient at him and their host.

"Hey, beetle, you promised us a show, so give it to us!" a cricket chirped. He was the most impatient of all since he believed to be the star of the night. There was no possible way anyone could outperform him.

Seeing that the guests were growing antsy, Mathias rummaged in his knapsack for his ball and brought it out in front of the stage with little ideas to go off on. In an instant, the heavy atmosphere in the theater lifted, and all were transfixed on the ball's mysterious silver glow.

Seeing that he had their attention, Mathias began to wave and shake the all in the air, tossing it from one hand to the other and performing small acrobats. He was no professional, but never had the bugs seen such a wonderful light before, so they were completely mesmerized.

Adding to the show was a jumpy tune Mathias picked up from Tino. He could not remember the exact words, but his audience did not care. The energy of the show was so addicting that soon, the theater became alive with a medley of squeaks, chirps, scratches, and buzzing. Mathias had long since tired out and stopped dancing long before they were able to settle down.

"It was a pleasant show!" the centipede clacked. "It would do well in our underground holes to have something so lovely to listen to!"

"No! He would make a good addition to our den!" the cricket chirped. "The jingle will compliment our nightly songs well into the autumn!"

"He was mine to begin with, and he shall stay mine!" the beetle cried.

The praying mantis had other thoughts. "No matter those fellows, strange one," she spoke in a seductive voice. "How would you like to stay with me? I would surely enjoy your soft flesh more than these rapscallions."

However, before Mathias could refuse any of them, for he had his own agenda to attend to, the theater broke out into a ferocious fight. Mandibles and legs locked in a battle to the death as limbs and wings were torn and devoured. It was a hellish sight and not of one Mathias wanted to witness the end. Without bothering to stay any longer, he packed his ball, strapped down his knapsack, and ran past the wrestling bugs towards the exit.

The praying mantis spotted him escaping after crushing the thorax of a cricket. "You are not getting away from me, my juicy meal," she hissed and flew straight for Mathias' legs. With her razor sharp claw, she hooked into the leg of his pants and gave a hard tug. Mathias screamed at her to let go, but she was stubborn and determined to sink her mandibles into his soft flesh.

That was when a bright light shone into the bugs' eyes and blinded them all, Mathias included.

"Grab on!" a voice shouted. Mathias was practically blind, but he reached wildly out until he latched onto what felt like a hand. He had never held anyone's hand of his size before; it was a new kind of feeling and one he liked.

In an instant, his body rose up with his arm and sailed far and away from the beetle's den. Mathias finally dared to open his recovering eyes and saw a world of falling leaves and grass zooming past him. He must have been flying, he thought and looked up to see who his rescuer was.

"Y-You!" he gasped. It was none other than the fairy he had conversed with many days ago.

The fairy said nothing and instead hurled him at a bundle of dead leaves. Mathias landed on the soft cushion and studied his surroundings. Had he missed something when he slept, he wondered? He did not recall the leaves being this color. They were starting to fall from their branches. The seasons appeared to have progressed from summer to fall in a blink of an eye.

"Heavy oaf…Alright, where is it?" the fairy asked with his hands on his hips. "And don't try to lie to me. I recognize the sound my brother's toy makes meters away. Now hand it over."

"Buh—Can't we talk for a moment?" Mathias first said. "I've been looking for you for so long and here you are right in front of me!"

A strange expression washed over the fairy's face. It was close to the same expression Tino wore whenever Berwald would kiss him. "Why would such a low life form such as yourself want to look for me?"

"To talk to you, of course! I don't even know you're name yet, but I've never stopped thinking about you."

"Pah!" the fairy held a hand to his mouth and laughed. "You're too much for a wingless sprite. And to think that you don't know my name. I'm the eldest prince of the fairies in these woods. For you to address me by my royal title would only taint it, so you may simply address me as 'Lukas.'"

"Lukas," Mathias repeated. "That's a lovely name."

Again the same expression showed through on the fairy's eyes. He seemed very annoyed that he was acting this way. "Regardless," he cleared his throat, "you are a thief. I only saved your life so that you may have the opportunity to redeem yourself. Consider yourself lucky, for I would have left you to be torn apart by those foul beasts."

"Oh, I'm very grateful, Lukas," Mathias widely smiled. His heart was fluttering. He had finally learned of the fairy's name and learned he was a prince! Seeing him was already enough, but talking to him made him feel light and fuzzy. "But before I return your ball, can you perhaps tell me where your realm is? Or maybe the winged sprites' kingdom?"

This made Lukas smirk. "Are you telling me you want to look for us? Even the winged sprites are hard to find for someone so incapable like you. Look at you: you're flightless, clueless, and hopeless. You're lost and clearly have no sense of direction. I'm surprised you lasted this long and made it this far. These woods are no place for a flightless sprite. You should give up and return to your human family."

"That's another thing!" Mathias spoke up, completely ignoring Lukas' venomous words. "Am I truly a wingless sprite?"

The fairy raised an eyebrow. "Are you that much of a dolt to see you aren't human? There are no such things as humans your size. Any fairy in my kingdom wouldn't be ignorant enough to leave her child unattended outside of our realm, so the only natural answer would be to say you're a wingless sprite."

"But if that's true, then where might my real parents be?"

"How would I know something like that?" Lukas frowned. "I have no time to waste keeping track of every child born to the winged sprites. They are unlike us, deciding to birth and rear their children elsewhere like birds. The way I see it, your parents are either very poor at raising you, or they're dead."

"Dead." The last word struck Mathias like a spear in his heart. He could not bear to think the people who brought him into this world were no more. To even think that something would happen to Tino and Berwald brought his sprits down. Thinking of them, he hoped he did not cause too much pain to them after he had chosen to leave.

"Hey. Nut head." Mathias lurched up to see Lukas right in his face. He could see every shade of blue in his deep eyes. They appeared to bear no pupils, making his eyes all the more hypnotic. "Are you done asking questions?"

"I-I…" Mathias searched through his head. He wanted to think of something to make the fairy stay, but he could not think of any such thing to persuade or stall him any longer. "Perhaps…how much does your brother miss his ball?"

Lukas' stern face suddenly softened upon bringing his brother up. "Enough that I would be willing to abandon my royal duties to personally search for it. It is my fault that he isn't able to sleep soundly with it, and so it is my responsibility to retrieve it. If you would just return it to me, it will make him very happy—provided that I thoroughly clean it first."

Mathias, moved by Lukas' brotherly dedication, took his knapsack off and dug for the toy. He never had siblings of his own, but he could imagine that he would deeply care for her or him the way Lukas was for his brother.

But before he could take the ball out, a loud shriek pierced their ears, and dark wings cut through the sky, knocking Mathias to his feet and Lukas into the air. Mathias was able to recover to his senses just in time to see a tiny yet swift hawk pursuing after him.

"Wait!" he cried and ran after them when the earth gave way beneath him. He fell helplessly at the mercy of a cliff and rolled round and round until his clothes and hair were messy and his back full of bruises. When he recovered, he could no longer see Lukas or the hawk.

"He couldn't have been eaten," he convinced himself. "Lukas is far too fast for it. If he's the prince of the fairies, then he should know his way around the woods. He will be alright." He could not completely say the same about himself, though. When rolling down the cliff, his knapsack had snagged on a loose root and tore open. All of the food he had received from the beetle and the silver ball had fallen out. Now not only was Mathias lost, but he was without food and Lukas' brother's toy.

"It must be close by. It has to be." Frantically he searched for the glow of the ball, but he could not find it or hear its sweet sound no matter how hard he looked. "Funny, it glowed so much when I was holding it. Why won't it reveal itself to me now?" Try as he did, he could not find it. He managed to retrieve some of his lost food, but it was nowhere close to sustaining him for more than two days.

Night had fallen over the woods, and Mathias needed to find shelter. As he searched for a place to sleep, a chill wind blew through the trees and froze him to his bones. As a child he had been sheltered by the cold in the hands of his parents and the warm fur of Hanatamago. This was a young winter's wind, he realized. How could winter have fallen over this place so quickly, he wondered? Had he really been away from his parents for almost half a year now?

Whatever the answer was, it would have to wait. Mathias needed more than just a simple shelter; he needed a place that would shield him from the biting winds and possible frost. For one so small, such a place was not too hard to come by. He managed to find a knot in a fallen log and crawled inside, clutching at his torn knapsack.

"I'll have to fix this and find the ball soon," he shivered. "Lukas may be able to hear it, but without someone to make it jingle, it is pointless." His teeth were starting to chatter. The sun had set early that day, and the temperatures were fast dropping. Sleep was the best thing for Mathias to do right now since he had no means of making a fire without flint and tinder. Curling into a tight ball and wrapping himself in his sparse clothing, he shut eyes and prayed for sleep to quickly come to him.

The next morning, Mathias thought he had passed on to another world. The entire ground was coated with a fresh sheet of sparkling frost. Any dew that once served as Mathias' drinking supply was frozen on the grass and dead leaves. The sound of the birds singing had vanished, leaving the woods dead and quiet. With so much glittering, Mathias was afraid he would never find the ball now.

"Oh…Winter must be nearing." However bad this might have been for his travels, he was still curious. After taking his things and stretching, he hopped onto the ground. The thin frost gave way without any hard crunching noises and melted under the soles of his boots. "This isn't so bad," he thought aloud. "If the snow melts under my feet, too, then I shouldn't have to worry too much." On that note, he went to find a needle-like leaf and some stringy bark to patch up his knapsack. He would resume his search for the ball once he finished.

Far and wide, Mathias searched around the area he fell from. The only times he stopped were to eat and relieve himself, and this search continued well into the evening. He did not remember the days being so short. As he looked to the sky, he saw gray clouds closing in. Berwald once told him when the temperatures drop and the winds stop blowing, the first snow would come. But could it have come so quickly?

"What did Mr. Turtle say again? That the seasons change with the winged sprites? If this is winter that is coming, then that must mean the winged sprites and grieving." As for who they were grieving for, he did not know.

A fresh blanket of snow cloaked the forest the next morning. Mathias had seen snow plenty of times, but this was through the stained glass windows in his family's house. He had never set foot in it since Tino was afraid he would freeze to death.

"Will I really freeze to death?" He reached out and tested the temperature. It was definitely colder than yesterday, though he thought if he could sleep through it, he should have been fine. Berwald and Tino were able to resist the cold, too, so he mustered up his courage and jumped from his knot. This time, a muffled crunch and "Oof!" could be heard. Mathias sank feet-first into the soft white powder. The snow pulled its way into his sleeves and slipped onto his belly. At first he yelped, never having touched something so cold, and quickly started to dig his way to a clearing.

The areas underneath the trees were decent. Even without their leaves there was still some clearings to gaze upon the whiteness. It would be impossible to find the silver ball now.

"I can't waste my time here anymore," he sadly said to himself. "I need to find the winged sprites. If the seasons are changing so quickly here, then perhaps they are close by."

He could only go on that deduction and headed in the opposite direction of the cliff. With a twig and a leaf in hand, he labored to dig a tunnel through the snow. The snow was fresh, and thus it was easy for him to plow. He would not be able to do this so easily in the coming days.

As the week progressed, Mathias had run out of food and nearly his spirits, too. There were no fruits, nuts, or mushrooms to eat in this unforgiving season, and any easy places to take shelter in were buried deep within the growing snow. Mathias' arms had grown sore from digging his way out of the wretched stuff many times, and the cold sapped whatever energy he had left. His skin was turning blue, and his nose and ears were a bright red. He could no longer feel anything in his fingers, and his toes were as hard as rocks. The falling snow brought forth splintering winds that stung his face and froze him to the core.

"This is too much for me," he tiredly breathed. "I can't go on like this." In desperation, he sought shelter under anything. Even a small ledge of bark would suffice. He just wanted to be out of the cold and wind. After some searching, he found himself underneath a tiny shoe. That someone had trekked here before gave him some comfort, that he was not alone out there. His thoughts went to his beloved parents and little white dog.

He had been so happy. Why had he left them alone in their cozy and comfortable house? He never thought before how foolish and selfish he was. He had gone off on a silly little spiritual journey to find himself and where he belonged, but after traveling through the woods, he found nothing but more reasons to show how different he was from everyone else. Even if he found the winged sprites, there was no one saying they would accept him with open arms. Lukas was right: he was flightless, clueless, and hopeless.

Hope. If he gave that up here and now, he would never be able to continue. If nothing else, he had to carry that with him. He did not want to die here. He made a promise that he would see his parents and Hanatamago again. He wanted to return the silver ball to Lukas. He wanted to find the winged sprites' kingdom. He wanted to know who he really was and why he was this way. There were so many questions he had. He could not give up here. He had made it this far and seen so much. He did not want these memories to flicker out like a candle. As he clung to these thoughts, Mathias found sleep drawing over his eyes. Covering himself with dead leaves, he curled up in a ball and let the dreams come to him.