The soft melody was carried by the wind, to the ears of the inhabitants of that strange valley full of colorful flowers and beautiful fairies, who heard enraptured that sweet tune that the wind carried them in the course of the dawn, the Sun rose and those sleepless creatures, still remembered the soft tune of that song that mentioned a flower they did not yet know.
-What is a wallflower cocoon? They wondered. -Will it be a flower or a plant? Or; Is she a new fairy who came with a cute and strange name? Will it be sturdy and red like a rose or thin and yellow like a daisy?
While the flowers rumoured also the fairies wondered.
"Did you hear the same thing as me this morning?" Last night the wind brought a song to a flower; Did any of you sing it or was it one of the angels guarding the valley?
The angels began to come down from heaven as every morning, and the fairies when they saw them flew curious to ask them.
-Did you hear the song that the wind brought this morning or were you the ones who sang it? They mentioned a flower that no one has seen, they called it wallflower; What color is it and what is its shape, size and aroma?
We also listen to that beautiful song. One of the angels answered the curious fairies. - And it also impressed us but it did not speak of the color, aroma, shape or size of a flower, it spoke of the beauty of a love that a poet in his inspiration, shaped it in a song but like you we ignore the origin of that song of the dawn, that just as the wind brought it, The wind blew her away.
For a moment the angels and fairies were silent.
"Wait and be silent! –said the blue angel. -The wind is now coming back and I begin to hear once again that soft tune that we heard this morning.
Flowers, angels and fairies were silent to listen once again to that soft melody that had touched their hearts, they remembered it and sang all day, enjoying the rhythm and joy caused by that sweet tune that filled them with tenderness, one of the fairies, perhaps the most curious and impressed commented to the blue angel of the morning.
You mentioned earlier that the one who sang and sent that song could have been a poet; What is a poet? A bird that sings or a flower that talks? Go tell me! What is it? I had never heard anything like that!
-A poet is. - The angel answers. Someone who writes songs like that, who arranges the words in a poem, looking for rhymes, prose and verses, looking for the sound to be the same or similar at the end of each sentence, a poet when he creates poetry or composes a song, He reads and writes it many times, he is thinking about it all day or also all his life.
-Again and again until he find the music and the magic of words, the one that makes your heart move when you hear it.
"So what we heard last night was a poem made into song; Do you know the poets? Tell me! Are they fairies, goblins or elves, are they made of some element or are they angels like you?
-Of course I know them, poets are the creators of all things and they are not like us.
They belong to a dangerous race, much more dangerous than dragons or any of the demons or entities that inhabit dark places, call themselves humans and do not live in this world.
"Humans, mmmh," murmured the fairy. -What a nice name for a living being! Even if they are like demons and so dangerous, but ... How can those demons be poets? That song that brought us the dawn was so beautiful; That it couldn't have been done by a demon! Also, if you say that they are the creators of all of all things; What else can they do? And if they are demons, they only know how to destroy and corrupt, maybe you are wrong and that poet was not one of the dangerous humans.
-Truth; Midnight Light.
The blue angel told the curious fairy that she was called that.
-You who are so small, so bright, beautiful and who were created for such a noble purpose, you were also created by one of the humans, humans do not fly, have no wings or know how to use magic.
-They do not change shape and cannot disappear, they are made of flesh and blood and the energy they have is so weak that they themselves can not see it, just an aura so faint that only angels can see, and yet you can not imagine how dangerous they can be.
"Flesh and blood did you say?" Like dragons! Then they must be huge and terrible, like monsters, I still can't imagine a monster writing poems and songs like the song of this morning; How are they ángel? I need to know to escape if I encounter one of them!
"Don't be afraid of dragons; Midnight light, they would never hurt fairies, they are enemies of humans and humans do not have the appearance of monsters, quite the opposite because they look like you and us, they create us in their image and likeness, so if one day you see one you will not be afraid, It will inspire confidence but I repeat that they are a very dangerous race, an accident in creation, a short circuit in the energy.
They appeared suddenly and multiplying everywhere, breaking the balances, changing the schemes, defying all the laws of the universe, the gods realizing the danger of that race sent them earthquakes, plagues, glaciations and nothing, humans continued to proliferate and change all things, they began to lose respect for nature and challenged even the gods themselves, And these furious ones sent the dragons to control and eliminate them, But humans are so dangerous that they were about to wipe them all out, entire legions of dragons were falling and disappearing.
-Taken as trophies, the gods at some point believed themselves more powerful than their creators, and in this way they tried to subdue them, forgetting that humans are the creators of all things and living beings that inhabit this world, even themselves, so when the gods saw that dragons were being decimated until almost disappearing, they brought the survivors into this world and sealed the entrance to the world of humans, to prevent them from coming here and destroying Fíria, the world of forgotten stories.
And the little Midnight Light, flew scared trying to imagine the possible appearance of humans, did not conceive that they looked like fairies or angels, saw them as terrible monsters much stronger and more imposing than dragons, talked for a long time with the other fairies of the valley what she had talked with the blue ángel, and both fairies and flowers were so frightened by what was told that when night fell it was the quietest, so much so, that neither the song of the crickets nor the scraping of the cicadas was heard, only Midnight Light dared to go out as was its custom and the purpose for which it was created, At night he went out lighting the roads and sidewalks in search of lost animals, rabbits, wild boars, lioness cubs, cubs, in short, any natural creature of the forest or the meadows that was lost, was located by that night fairy and guided to her lair or her herd by her, but that night she was intrigued and looked for something more while illuminating the darkness; Midnight Light listened attentively to the silence.
Scanning the horizon listening to every whistle, every whisper carried by the wind at dawn, waiting once more to hear the song of the previous night, trying to locate the poet, The singer, the musician who played that romantic melody and the owner of that manly voice that had moved her heart, lighting the night in search of some sign of some lost animal, flew very high and a voice was heard from the sky.
-Hello little girl! - A star said from above to the fairy. - Are you looking for something?
-B'eila! The fairy replies to the star who greeted her.
-So long without seeing you! Tell me! What have you come down to?
-Better tell me what you have climbed! The star says to the fairy in an amused voice.
-Us 2! -say at the same time the fairy and the star.
-I'm looking for something. –says Midnight Light to B'eila. -I am looking for a voice in the wind, the sound of a music that the sound carries as if it were a whisper, a very beautiful sound, just a murmur in the dark, some beautiful words spoken by a voice that is heard like that of thunder in the distance, words that described a flower that nobody knew in the Valley of the Flowers, A cocoon of wallflower, I'm looking for the author of that song.
"I've seen it. –says the star. -Arrived 2 nights ago from the South arriving through the infinite desert.
- You've seen it! How is it? Do you know him? Is it a goblin? A fairy or an elf? or; Is it a monster? If you say that he came through the infinite desert he must be a soul in sorrow who feels sad, the angels say that he is a poet; Maybe it's the soul of one of the dead poets! Go tell me what that poet is like.
-Quiet little friend, who had never seen you so excited, she is not a fairy, or goblin, or elf, nor is she one of the inhabitants of Fíria, much less a monster, nor is she dead, nor is she a soul in sorrow, she is just a walker who is lost, she is one of the humans.
-A human?
He kept thinking for a few seconds about what the blue angel had told him at sunset, while dark clouds covered the sky, interrupting the conversation between the star and the fairy.
Midnight Light could no longer talk and ask B'eila everything she wanted to know about the human, and decided to fly back to the Valley of Flowers, to tell them everything she had talked about with the blue angel and the lone star of Sur, before those dark clouds also covered the light of the other stars.