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would arrive from work or running errands. In her dreams, she met with the blue faery and they talked of his home in Gwynydd. The exception being that in the dreams, he was closer to seven feet tall, with a white tunic that came just below his knees, and belted at the waist with a sword and scabbard. He had long flowing pale hair that came to his shoulder blades, and the curious sharp features of her father, except for the bluish glow that constantly surrounded him. When asked, and Mel always asked, he would not give his name.

The following Saturday came, and Dad had the usual outing planned for either Webster or Durand Parks. When the subject of faeries came up, Dad would wink, put is finger to his lips and say he’d talk about it later. As it was, the kids loaded up their staves and wooden practice swords, along with a picnic lunch for a day of play and practice by the brook they called Kidron, in Durand woods, only minutes from home.

It was a lovely, sunny, summer’s day. The foliage was all shades of rich green and Mel and the kids would stop on the trail and supplement their lunches with some sweet bramble berries growing near the trail. Their faces and fingers stained purple with berry juice meant they got to wash and play in the brook for a while. Dad had a strange, dreamy state to his demeanor. He would appear to be watching for something at odd times. As they played in the creek and dug up the white clay there to make things, Dad sat in the soft moss, under an old oak and watched contentedly.

At once, Dad perked up and called to the kids. He motioned for them to join him at the white oak tree he sat under.

“Kids, we’ve had some fine adventures already this year,” he said, “and it’s high time I introduced you to a friend of mine.”

Mel and the children looked around, and then back towards the trail to the creek, but could see no one coming. They looked back at their dad with a unanimous puzzled frown. Dad was smiling oddly and waiting patiently for their attention.

“Like I said, “ he went on, “I have someone for you to meet. I can not tell you his name, because it is a secret. However, you can all call him ‘Sundog’.”

Everyone’s eyes grew wide as saucers, and Melanie put her hand to her mouth, when from around the base of the old oak, a blue white orb, the size of a hardball, floated gently to a point just over Dad’s right shoulder. Within a tiny, two inch tall man with hummingbird wings, wearing a small leaf shaped sword belted at his tiny waist, gave a slight bow with hands extended before him. Melanie could swear that he was looking directly at her when he smiled his impish smile and his brilliant blue eyes twinkled mischievously. There were no dazzling rays of sunlight to trick the eyes, or images moving too fast for their eyes to track. There was only themselves and their father, sitting in the shade of a mighty oak with their new faery friend standing upon their father’s shoulder. Just another family secret for the witch kids to guard with their silence.

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Publication Date: 01-22-2009

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