THE ORIGIN OF THE TAROT FAIRIES
The Tarot Fairies have been wandering through the Thicket since time immemorial. At the beginning, there was a spark. A bright manifestation of a very powerful thought. Where did that thought come from? Did it stem from another spirit in the Mystical Yarnling Realm itself? Did it originate in the Traveller’s World, transcending one of the few chaotic posterns that existed at that time? Or did it even come from someplace else? No one really knows… not even the oldest ones in the Deep Forest of Recounted Tales can answer these questions, despite the fact that they guard such a large repository of stories. Personally, I surmise that the World Walkers might know – but as it is, they do not seem to have any inclination to tell me.
One thing we do know for certain though is that every Tarot Fairy is born from one such powerful thought. It shapes their appearance, their personality, and even their magical prowess. Similar minds may manifest in akin spirits. Nevertheless, just as no two thoughts can ever be exactly the same, you will also never be able to find two Tarot Fairies in the whole Thicket or beyond that will look identical to one another. And to my eyes, this is the most wondrous and most beautiful trait about the spirits of the Mystical Yarnling Realm.
My first ever encounter with a Tarot Fairy came to pass on a warm day in Primavera. I was wandering through a glistening field of white snow in the Shallow Mountains, reveling in the first rays of sunlight on my face, when my gaze caught a tiny mound of snow that seemed to be illuminated from within. Intrigued, I dropped to my knees to take a closer look, but before my fingers could even touch the first layer of powdery snow, a warm, gentle breeze wafted over the mound and revealed a sparkling flower bud. Each of its petals had a different colour and was veined with glittering threads. The petals of the flower slowly opened, and with a flash of bright light revealed a tiny Fairy of the Fool, still in her wingless Essence form, whose name I later came to know as Felicia. She was the most carefree and enthusiastic being I have ever met, asking me one curious question after the other, from why the sky changed colours to my favourite sort of tree bark. After our vivid encounter, she hopped away with big steps, giggling and with an excited expression on her face, as if she could barely await the great adventure that lay before her.
On another such occasion I met a coven of rainbow-coloured Rinkos, Fairies of the Wheel of Fortune, by one of the deep riverbeds. They were aligned in a perfect circle, silently and synchronously knotting a fishing net that could span a whole treetop. Their rhythmic weaving of the threads had a hypnotic charm to it, and made me curious about the net’s purpose. When I approached the group, the Rinkos looked up in unison, smiling at me tenderly. It was a pleasant and warm smile, yet their gazes were deep enough to send a shiver down my spine. I felt as if they could look directly into my soul, seeing things I could not even fathom. While I was lost in this slightly bizarre moment, their hands finished their work. They gave me a slight nod of farewell and took flight. As I watched them rise into the air, they never strayed from their position in the perfect circle, and positioned themselves right above the middle of the river, the net spanning from one bank to the other. Again, I was left in wonder. What could they possibly be up to?
Right in that moment, a spark emerged above their spread-out net, and the familiar glittering threads of a new spirit born converged into a magic ball of light, so bright that I had to close my eyes for a second. When I opened them again, a giant Fairy of the Wheel of Fortune, three times the size of her fellows, had dropped right into the centre of the net. She wore the same expression I had seen before on the other Fairies, and before I could even form a question, the whole group was up and gone.
This was not the last time I got to witness the birth of a new soul in the Thicket, and certainly not all of them were as friendly and well-meaning. The Mystical Yarnling Realm is full of wondrous beings and in a state of constant change, shaped by the profound feelings and wills put into these initial thoughts of their creation. Each new encounter brings new experiences and surprises with it. I am looking forward to who I will meet tomorrow.
Myya ❀
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