The Beginning of Rainbow Land, Part 1
The little girl looked out the window of the second story drab grey building. Her chin rested in her hands as she looked upon the outside world, which was becoming whiter with each passing hour. Tiny flakes dotted the air, falling and gliding on some unseen breeze. It was beautiful to her. Down below on the street, men and women garbed in black rushed to and fro, coming home from work or finishing errands. She could hear the faint cry of merchants hawking their ways on Market Street in the distance. Twilight was beginning to settle on the city. The little girl was garbed in a plain grey dress, which made her bright blonde hair even brighter. Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail atop her head, and tied with a purple ribbon. The dress she wore was made from a very simple and sensible fabric that had been donated in bolts to the orphanage.
The little girl didn’t mind the colorless piece of fabric. In her imagination, it was a blue dress, held up by red suspenders. The sleeves were puffed, and each section was a different color of the rainbow. The dress was trimmed in white. To match the dress, she wore colorful boots that were red and then the fabric became colorful sections, just like the sleeves of the dress. They would come up to her knees. To the little girl, it was the most beautiful outfit in the world.
In the distance, a bell rang. Another little girl ran into the room. She spotted her friend sitting near the window. Just like the first girl, she too was dressed in the same grey dress. Unlike the first girl, she had red hair that was in pigtails. “Wisp! Come on! Sister Margaret will be angry if you don’t come for dinner now.”
Slowly, Wisp turned her head, a dreamy look on her face. “Did you see the snow? It’s beautiful.”
“You’re going to be late for dinner. You’ll get a few raps on the hand again with a fork,” warned her friend.
“Anne, you’re no fun,” replied Wisp, moving from her spot at the window.
“Am so! I just don’t like the fork!” replied her friend playfully.
Each of the girls giggled. Anne grabbed Wisp’s hand and they ran down the hallway and down the stairs, skidding to a stop outside the large mess hall doors. The doors were quite heavy and thick, and the low murmur of conversation could be heard behind them. Anne pushed open the door and suddenly, the roar of chatter escaped, enveloping the two girls as they entered. Row after row of tables were before them, each table filled with girls of all ages and sizes. Anne led Wisp to the end of the line, where they were greeted by Sister Margaret.
“Ah, you two just barely made it,” she commented, a large wooden fork in her hand.
“Yes, Sister,” replied Wisp.
“Off daydreaming I bet, forgetting that there are responsibilities to attend to in the real world.”
“I was watching the snow, Sister. It’s so beautiful. All the tiny little flakes falling onto the ground below.”
Sister Margaret grunted. “All that snow creates a mess. The horses have trouble with the carts and wagons. People have trouble getting to work. I have to take care of brats like you.”
Wisp, never faltering, commented, “Don’t you feel good when you see how beautiful the snow looks on the trees?” She held up her hands in a wide arc.
“No,” remarked Sister Margaret coldly, rapping Wisp on the tops of her hands, “And you shouldn’t either. It’s not wise or useful.”
Wisp yelped in pain, but did not cry. Anne patted her back, and the two walked forward in line to take their plates.
“Oh and Wisp?” called Sister Margaret.
“Yes, Sister?” asked Wisp, turning her head.
“Since you think this snow is so “beautiful”, as you put it, you can go outside tomorrow after temple and help the groundskeeper shovel paths. That should teach you a good lesson.”
“Yes, Sister,” agreed Wisp. She turned, and lowered her head, looking at the ground.
“Wisp? Are you okay?” asked Anne, concerned.
“I wish Sister Margaret could see the beauty in the snow,” was all Wisp said before quietly going through the line.
The scene at dinner was nothing new for Wisp. Sister Margaret was one of the Guardian Sisters from the temple who took care of the orphan children. Sister Margaret and many others were not fond of the girls in their charge, but they did their work for the Goddess, believing it was their will and duty to bring up the poor unfortunate souls without parents. To see a happy, bright young child such as Wisp tended to bother the Sisters, and they tried to instill a sense of reality into the girl. Their efforts, however, did not work as well as they wanted.
The next afternoon, Wisp was sent outside to speak to the groundskeeper and to take care of her punishment. She’d already been in trouble during temple, when she had been caught glancing out the window at a large rainbow instead of singing praises to the Goddess as the other orphans were doing.
Wisp skipped along the path until she reached the small cabin that housed the groundskeeper. He was an older gentleman, with hair white as snow and a moustache to match. He wore a pair of blue overalls with a white shirt and work boots, and a simple brown cap atop his head. He was a very quiet man, and very shy. In truth he simply didn’t know how to talk to women folk, and that included young girls. The groundskeeper was collecting some tools from his shed when Wisp arrived.
“Mr. Groundskeeper,” called Wisp. “I’m here to help shovel. Sister Margaret said you’d have a shovel for me.”
The groundskeeper turned and nodded slowly, reaching for the large shovel used for snow. He did not say a word.
“Don’t you think this snow is beautiful? Look how it covers the trees,” called Wisp happily, spinning in slow circles. “Isn’t it wonderful?”
“Well… I suppose so,” replied the groundskeeper after a few moments. He handed Wisp the shovel.
Wisp took the offered shovel. “Do you think Sister Margaret likes it? She says she doesn’t.”
The shovel was big for Wisp, and hard for her to hold. On top of that, it was heavier than she expected. Nevertheless, she began attempting to shovel the snow. The groundskeeper watched her, not giving an answer to her question. Wisp pushed the shovel through the snow, lifting it with all her might and then dumping the snow on the side of the path.
Without a word, the groundskeeper went back to his work. For a few minutes, Wisp continued to shovel. Somewhere nearby, a bird sang in the trees. Hearing its song, Wisp paused, listening closely. She looked around for the tree where the sound was coming from. It did not take long for her to discover the tree, and she ran to it, kicking up the snow. “You like the snow, don’t you, little bird? It makes you want to sing.”
The bird trilled back, and Wisp giggled. “I think so too,” she replied.
Once more, the bird started its song, and Wisp twirled in response, shoveling forgotten. She was lost in the reverie of song and snow, and couldn’t have felt happier at that moment. Of course, who should come to check on her but Sister Margaret.
“Wisp! What are you doing?!” she yelled, holding her maroon dress with the gold trim high as she crossed the snow.
Wisp was jolted from her dance, and she looked over to the Sister, embarrassed to have been caught. “I’m sorry, Sister,” she apologized, “but I couldn’t help it. I wanted to dance with the bird.”
Sister Margaret grabbed Wisp by the wrist and began dragging her back across the snow. “You were to shovel paths in the snow, not daydream. If you cannot follow a simple task, then you can be punished!”
Sister Margaret was true to her word. She banished Wisp to her bed for two days, with bread and water for food. She was not allowed to talk to her nearby bunkmates, or move from her spot unless one of the Sisters escorted her. Wisp wasn’t too sad though. She spent her time daydreaming, and looking out the nearby window. She dreamed of wearing the pretty dress, and of being surrounded by other kids like herself. She saw herself with kids who loved beautiful things and colors and didn’t mind talking about them.
The winter season eventually ended, replaced by spring. It was one of Wisp’s favorite seasons. Plants and animals were coming back to life, and color sprang forth from the brown of the Earth. It was a magical time of the year, and Wisp relished in the times she was allowed outside. She’d take on any chores, as long as she could work in the beauty of nature.
It was her love for nature that influenced her meeting with Sister Eva. Sister Eva was in charge of the garden for the orphanage, the one that grew the vegetables used for many meals. Sister Eva was tall and thin, and her hair was always cut close to her head because she hated it getting in the way while she gardened. Wisp’s interest in plants and gardening amused Sister Eva, and she took on the child as a mini gardener.
Together, they tended to the plants, and Wisp learned that Sister Eva was a rare soul who enjoyed the colors and the beauty just as much as she did. It made Wisp happy to know that she wasn’t alone.
“Don’t you think the garden is a rainbow?” asked Wisp as she searched for weeds among the tiny plants.
“Why do you say that?” asked Sister Eva, who was carefully watering.
“Think of all the colorful vegetables we’ll have. Red for tomatoes, orange for carrots, yellow for squash, green for lettuce, purple for eggplant…” Here Wisp trailed off.
“What about blue?” asked Sister Eva gently.
“I can’t think of a blue vegetable,” replied Wisp. “Is there one?”
Sister Eva thought for a moment. “I don’t think so. I’m not sure.”
“There should be,” remarked Wisp. “Then you could make a rainbow on your plate at every meal.”
“Yes,” answered Sister Eva, smiling as she nodded, “you could.”
“Colors are beauty. They make me happy. When I grow up, I’ll have the most colorful dress, and lots of colorful things.”
“Then you’ll be like a rainbow.”
Wisp nodded. “I would!”
It was late spring of that year when Wisp began having dreams of a different kind. Usually she dreamed of playing with her friends, or being a grown-up with colorful things and dresses. These new dreams, were different, almost terrifyingly real.
Wisp began seeing a new place on a different world. It looked nothing like the orphanage. The land was dark all the time, and no color could be seen. The land was rocky, with tall mountains. The only trees that could be seen were bare and scraggly. Sometimes, her dream showed her vicious creatures that roamed the barren landscape. They looked like large birds and worms with large, gnashing teeth. Once, she saw a worm kill something, and she woke from the terror of seeing the creature crushed between powerful jaws. Other times, she saw the outline of a shadow move over the land, making it even darker.
Often, the dream would occur on bad days, and Wisp would see the land in all of its darkness. She wondered why it was so dark and empty. Where was the color? The pretty flowers, and rainbows? Darkness and more darkness plagued the land.
One night, Wisp found herself above the land, hovering in the sky. She looked down at this place, this empty and lonely placed and wished that she could do something to make it look better. It was on this night that she saw new creatures, different from the monsters she had seen before. These creatures were small and furry. They were colorless, and any area on them that appeared to have colored seemed faded. They spoke in a language that was unfamiliar and lived in small groups in tiny caves and crevices. The shadow that flew over the land scared them, and they were not immune from the birds and worms that lived here.
“Oh you poor creatures!” she called out, unable to simply watch anymore.
She was startled when a ball of light appeared beside her. “You don’t like what you see?” it asked her. The voice was feminine and gentle.
“What happened to all the color?” asked Wisp.
“Do you remember the shadow?”
“Yes.”
“That shadow rules the land. It didn’t used to be this way. This used to be a happy place.”
“What happened?”
“One day, the person protecting this land lost in the battle against darkness. No matter what she tried, she failed in the end,” explained the light sadly. “The shadow took over the land, and it has been this way ever since.”
“No one could bring back the color?” asked Wisp.
“No one has tried to. The shadow continues to rule.”
“That’s terrible.”
“Yes, it is,” agreed the light.
And with that, Wisp awoke from her dream. That day she was very quiet, and lost in thoughts. She thought about the light and the conversation they’d shared. That place she saw was dark and gloomy and it should be bright and colorful. Wisp shared her dream with Anne, but Anne only giggled.
“Oh Wisp, it’s only a dream!”
“But I have that dream every night. That place is real. It has to be!”
Anne looked at her friend seriously. Wisp had a large imagination, but this was too crazy, even for Wisp’s standards. “Dreams aren’t real, Wisp. They’re just stories while we sleep.”
“What if the story was real?”
“It’s not,” continued Anne.
Wisp frowned. She had thought her friend might understand. She did not try to tell Anne about anymore dreams about the strange land she saw.
Sister Margaret also noticed a change in Wisp. Instead of talking about colors and beauty, as she was wont to do, Wisp was often quiet and kept to herself. Sister Margaret intended to discover the reason for the change. She wondered if perhaps the child had finally given in to reality, instead of believing in her silly notions and ideas.
“Wisp, come here,” she called sternly late one afternoon. Wisp had been washing the windows in her office, but had not spoken a word since entering.
“Yes, Sister?” Wisp turned and placed the cloth back in the bucket she had been using. She dried her hands on her dress.
“Why are you so quiet?” Sister Margaret got straight to the point.
Wisp was quiet for a few moments. She looked down at the floor. Just as Sister Margaret was about to scold her for failure to respond correctly when asked a question, Wisp spoke. “Have you ever had a dream that seemed real?”
Sister Margaret was taken aback by this question. She had expected the child to talk about beauty or some such nonsense. “Of course. Everyone dreams of things that look real, but they’re just dreams in the end. They aren’t real.”
“Even if they seem real?”
“Yes.”
“Anne says dreams are stories you see when you sleep.”
“Anne would be correct. It’s like looking at a picture book.”
“What if you were in your dream, and everything you did seemed real?”
“It’s not.”
“I had this dream about this place where there’s no color, and I see things that are real. There’s this ball of light. It talks—“
“Wisp,” began Sister Margaret, quickly becoming annoyed with the conversation, “I just told you. Dreams aren’t real. They aren’t true, no matter what you think. Now get back to work. I don’t want to hear any more about this.
Wisp sighed and picked up the cloth once more. She worked quietly for the rest of the afternoon, and did not speak of her dream to Sister Margaret anymore after that.
“What do you think you could do?” asked the light.
“I’d try to bring back the color,” replied Wisp. She hovered over the land once more. Thunder rumbled and lightning lit up the landscape. Below, a large creature with spikes on its back raced across the land.
“How would you do that?”
“I don’t know,” admitted Wisp. “but I’d try to find a way. Without color, this place is empty.”
“What if you could save this world?”
“I’d try to bring back the color and beauty,” replied Wisp.
The day after Wisp had the dream, the orphanage took a trip to a large open meadow nearby. They were celebrating spring. Little girls raced about the meadow and through the wild flowers. Laughter and shouting could be heard. Wisp chased Anne in a game of tag.
“You can’t catch me, Wisp!” called Anne.
Wisp sped up and ran faster. “You wait and see!” She reached out a hand, but missed Anne, who took a sudden turn.
“I told you so!” laughed Anne.
Wisp changed her direction to follow Anne. Once more, she came closer and reached out a hand. The tips of her fingers touched the back of Anne’s dress. “I got you!” she cried with glee.
Anne slowed, and fell onto her back in the tall grass. “Phew! That was fun!”
Wisp fell beside her friend, and spread out her arms. “Isn’t this great? Look at all the flowers. They’re so colorful.”
A large blue butterfly lazily glided overhead, and Wisp’s mouth opened wide in amazement. “Look at that butterfly!” she called, pointing.
Anne turned her head, looking where Wisp pointed. “It’s blue,” she remarked lazily, tucking her hands behind her head.
Wisp rose to her feet. “I’m gonna follow it. Are you coming?”
Anne shook her head. “No. I’m too tired to follow it. You go.”
“Okay,” called Wisp as she began to chase the butterfly.
The butterfly continued its lazy flight, gliding back and forth on the wind. Wisp followed it, getting further and further from her group with each passing minute. No one noticed her wander off.
Eventually, Wisp noticed that it was very quiet around her. She glanced around, looking for her friends. “Where’d everybody go?” she wondered.
No one answered her. Wisp sat down on a nearby log, and rested her chin on her hands. “What do I do now?”
“Wisp,” called a voice.
Wisp recognized that voice. She looked around her, but didn’t see the light. The butterfly was nowhere to be found either. She looked down at her feet. “Aww…I’m just hearing things,” she commented sadly.
“No, you aren’t,” called the voice again.
Wisp looked up. Before her stood a woman bathed in a golden light. She wore a long, flowing white dress. Her hair was the color of chocolate, and she smiled softly at Wisp as she held out a thin hand. “Who are you?”
“I’m the light from your dreams,” replied the woman.
“But…dreams aren’t real,” muttered Wisp sadly.
“Who says so?”
“Everyone I speak to. Sister Margaret and Anne. Dreams are just stories you see when you sleep,” she quoted.
The woman laughed, a rich, deep laugh. “Not all dreams aren’t real. Some are. Yours was. I showed you a very real place.”
“That dark place really exists?”
“Yes,” replied the woman sadly. “It needs help. That is why I’ve chosen you.”
“Me?”
“You are the only one who has seen the world and wishes for it to be different. Would you like to save it, Wisp?”
“I could save it?”
“Yes, but only if you really want to.”
Wisp nodded. “I do want to save it.”
“If you want to save this world, then take my hand. However, you will not see this world again, or be able to return. You should think hard before you make your decision.”
“Not…see my friends again?”
“That’s right. It is not something to be taken lightly.”
Wisp sat on the log, deep in thought. She didn’t want to leave her friends, especially Anne. She also couldn’t bear the thought of the land being so dark and dreary either. She wanted to see it changed back to the way it was. She didn’t know what that looked like, but she had imagined it. “I could… bring back the color?”
“Yes, you can, if you can defeat the darkness.”
Wisp stood up, looking determined. She looked up at the woman. “I want to go and save that world,” she declared.
The woman chuckled softly. “Then take my hand, and we will go.”
Even though Wisp had declared her decision, she still nervously reached for the woman’s hand. As soon as her fingers touched the woman’s skin, she became away of a warm, tingly sensation. It was calming and soothing. Wisp closed her eyes as the sensation washed over her body. Every part of her felt relaxed. She let that feeling enclose her, and then, there was blackness.
Author Notes:
- I decided to use this part to tell of Wisp's origins. I can say this place is certainly not Earth. I still follow the non-aging theory and that means Wisp's arrival happened sometime before 1285. That is not a period of Earth I wanted to use. The planet she is from is not named, but it borrows aspects of the late 1800's on Earth. Mind you it's not entirely true to that period of time.
- The religion I did not go into detail with. Normally if I would have chosen Earth for Wisp's location, I would have used Christianity. However, this is an alien planet so no Christianity. Instead, they worship a Goddess, and those who follow the Goddess are called Guardian Sisters. They are very similar to nuns, and wear the maroon dress with the gold trim.
- I could not help but pay homage to my favorite series as a preteen. I doubt any here have read it, but I could be wrong. Anne of Green Gables was my favorite growing up, and I wanted to incorporate that into the first part. So you get Wisp's friend Anne (who looks like Anne Shirley), the incidents in the orphanage and Wisp always being positive (like Anne), and the groundskeeper, who is shaped after Matthew
If you have actually made it this far and read the story, let me know what you think. I'm happy to have feedback.
