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lyrical trance & dark mythic/transgressive fiction by lilimist

the butterfly vow by lilimist

 

A romantic creation myth about a butterfly who wakes up from her cocoon too late and a star who falls to earth to save her.

{ first written & released by Vixen Phillips in 2004 }

“The earth must sleep soon, and you and I also. It will grow even colder, before our next dawn. Then we shall awaken, and all will be painted even more beautifully than before. And I will be waiting for you. Think of the beautiful dreams we shall have, to share together when the earth again grows warm!”

And the butterfly returned her tightening hug, proud of her bravest heart and truest soul, but she saw that eternal sadness flicker across his face as he glanced again at the cocoon’s inert form.

“Go to sleep, golden princess,” he whispered tenderly. “I release you from your promise, but will repay you with my own. I will see you again, come the spring.”

The daffodil sighed with many shades of relief, yet she worried for him so even as he tucked her in. “A few hours more,” the butterfly said, “and then I will join you in sweet dreams.” He kissed her then, and sang ever so tenderly a lullaby he had caught from one of the smaller bird families. With barely a yawn, her eyelids fluttered closed, ere she slumped to the ground lifelessly. But the butterfly would not be sad, because of his sister — “To all the world, they may appear dead,” he reassured himself again, “but I know they are only slumbering.” He sighed, casting an eye over the foreboding storm clouds shrouding the mountains and fingertips of the trees, preparing once more, and perhaps for the last time, to take his leave.

It was only in that moment, for the very first time, that before his gaze the cocoon quivered almost imperceptibly; a shiver passed along into his heart as realization dawned upon him.

Winter was fast approaching, he had freed both himself and the daffodil of their obligation, and now in this late hour was his sister at last awakening.

And the rains would be here soon, in time with the evening. After so many hours given to idle play it almost seemed like cruelty. But there were barely hours to spare, and his wings were yet capable of flying. With no hesitation whatsoever the butterfly once more took to the skies, letting the rising winds guide him.

✿ ✿ ✿

A long hour indeed saw the butterfly immersing himself with little thought for self deeper and deeper into the enigmatic heart of the forest. First, he took counsel with the wisest of the trees, in seeking out a guardian for the newest of his kin.

But the tree sighed sadly, shaking his head, sending handfuls of leaves scuttling giddy through the air. “Do you not see how their colour is changing? I am losing them, and they are losing me. Like a star I blaze, and soon I will be dead. Dead — or asleep — it is much the same to me. I will remember nothing when I awake, should I ever see the spring.” And he yawned very deeply. “There is a rosebush, down there —” here he pointed to an overgrown entanglement of green — “ask her instead.” Another yawn, which this time sent the butterfly tumbling head over heels with several more leaves. Yet still he thanked the tree, who mumbled a barely coherent “Good night” and fell immediately to snoring.

So, with a sigh, the butterfly went to seek out the rosebush, though he was very careful to hold his tongue on the matter of her being nowhere near as elegant or scented sweet as his own daffodil.

But, despite his manners or perhaps because of them, the rosebush turned up her nose at him. “Really, I think you are very selfish. Did it not occur to you that I, too, need my beauty sleep? My lovely petals would be eaten by the frosts should I remain awake out here all winter, and then who would admire me?” Haughtily she pointed back to the stream, who murmured to himself in a sing-song rhythm a few metres distant, otherwise oblivious to everything. “He has nothing better to do. Why don’t you ask him?”

The Butterfly Vow by lilimist   Page 3 of 16   writing

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