The Father's Gift

A Fiction gift for @Kimbooyork

The Father’s gift

It wasn’t often that Celestials visited Crann Na Beatha. He who watches, the all-wise Eru, the creator of all worlds, had designated it a protected planet in a protected system.

Mikhail felt the change as he entered the unremarkable system, which consisted of a single white star surrounded by nine planets and two asteroid belts. The celestial sang a single perfect note and nodded as the draoidheacd diminished. “Thank thee, Father, for thy blessing.”

As he approached the third planet, a world almost perfectly balanced between order and chaos, he shuddered as the magic tried to refashion his form. Sweeping his wings out wide, he angled toward the blue/green world and slipped from the cold of space to the relative warmth of the planetary environment. Relative because the world was in the middle of winter. His wings flared out behind him as he settled on the top of a nondescript mountain. “Oh, stop it,” he said as the world tried again to refashion his form. For some reason, this reality was trying to take away his wings. “Really, Astinmah?” He shook his head, his golden hair flowing as he sang another perfect note, making himself immune to the draoidheacd that tried to change him. “Now, where are you?” His bright silver eyes narrowed as he looked around, homing in on the location of the one he had come to visit. With a soft sigh, he thrust himself into the sky and took flight, heading south. He crossed over the great frozen northlands, where the Wild men of the frozen plains resided in caribou hide-covered tents. He slowly made his way southward, nodding as he detected the Leanai na cloiche deep in their underground cities, and the Infernals in their dark keeps in the mountains.

The Celestial wasn’t going to bother them, as they weren’t the ones he wanted to visit. A tender smile crossed his lips as he flew over a small walled town nestled between three great rivers. It was here that he turned to the west and flew past a great forest, then past a deep desert of wide sand, finally circling a bigger, wider, and more ancient forest. “There you are,” he whispered as he dipped toward the forest and slipped beneath the canopy of the great forest.

Mikhail could appreciate beauty, and overall, this world was a beautiful place. The closer he got to the place he was seeking, the more his smile broadened. When he finally found the clearing in the center of the forest, he landed at the edge and took a moment to look around. “Astinmah?”

Before he could take a step, he was surrounded by twelve dryads, but he could see the celestials they used to be. “Ladies,” he said with a half-bow. “Is she here?”

The twelve dryads circled him, lifting their voices in song. Peace filled his heart and warmed his soul as he joined them in song, worshipping He who watches.

For a timeless eternity, their song filled the forest, drawing the animals, fey, and even the goddess herself. “Mikhail,” Astinmah called out as she slipped between the dryads and wrapped her arms around the messenger. “What brings you to my abode?”

“Our father knows this is your season for giving gifts, so he asked me to bring one to you, " the celestial replied. Then he took a step back, pulled a wrapped package from somewhere beneath his wings, and presented it to her.

The goddess accepted the gift and slowly opened it. Her eyes widened in awe as nestled in what appeared to be tissue paper was an eight-pointed star made from beryllium, about the size of her fingernail. She gazed up at the messenger with liquid green eyes. “Did he send anything else?”

The celestial nodded, “He did. He wanted me to tell you that he still loves you, and that you are always in his thoughts.”

A single happy tear fell from the goddess’s eye as the dryads continued to sing their praises to the creator god.

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