In the dusky embrace of twilight, something magical stirred at the edge of a tranquil lake, renowned far and wide as “Wishful Waters”, a name steeped in traditions whispered among children and adults alike. It was said that any heartfelt wish cast upon its rippling surface would be answered come the next dawn.
This lake was the cherished dwelling of a small, clever water sprite named Willa. As day faded into soft night, she sat immersed in thoughts, her tiny blue-bell frock and hair twinkling with dewdrops. She resembled a playful mist, swirling this way and that, constantly giggling as she prepared to fulfill her nightly tasks.
Wishing upon the lake’s waters was a ritual that attracted individuals in all shapes and forms, each seeking something precious held close to their hearts. With humming expectations — whether by the sincere heart of an old woman, a wild-eyed child, or two moonlit lovers — Willa arose each night to hear their wishes.
“At least once, I would dearly love to see a wish granted right before my eyes,” she often mused, teetering on the edge of her lily pad.
One ceremoniously clear night, under a glossy crescent moon, a solitary child approached the lake. Perched on her lily pad, Willa’s curiosity about this newcomer soon overcame her earlier longing. With a feathery stroke of mist, Willa made silent vows each time she playfully dipped her tiny foot in the intensity of the waters.
All at once, out of the child’s heart slipped a simple wish, light and transient as a summer cloud. It floated silently through the newborn brightening womb of morn and … it sank!
A sudden swirl of rippling sound spread all over, and the waters glimmered like a thousand suns. Willa’s ears pricked up and her little merry face melted into wonder.
“I’ll dive deep into the world of water,” gushed she, “and find the wish my little child hath missed.”
Away! away! away she went — in and out — through a kingdom of glutinous black, yellow and grey seaweeds, and across fields of white and pink anemones glimmering crimson, thronged with dazzling metallic insects. She soon arrived at a slumbering city sprawling far below, comprising myriad towers growing of dazzling rocky shafts from every point.
Wherever she floated up from the rushing waves, as soon as she dipped her tiny feet thither again she felt ever and anon the wish casting round for the little child.
“Be it a plaything? Be it a supper? Or perhaps it’s the gift of a friend coming to bid him cheer and gladness? Perhaps something,” murmured she, “that will pass away without a gift tomorrow, even as did this.”
But nothing brighter than golden hearts or didn’t exist around sprightly toys. Willa peeped into a fisherman’s pot — and just shrimps and fish were there. Till at last she discovered something brighter:
“Lo and behold,” cried she; “now I know the base of all human wishes!” and with that she dived yet deeper.
On she sped, and soon there broke upon her awestricken sight such a world of treasures as she would never have deemed buried in water. Enormous gems, more precious than ever king had clasped in his crown, lay strewn about like pebbles, dominating extraordinary fabrics that burst with life in every kaleidoscopic hue.
Willa hid her own little face as she traversed this fairyland, lest her very look should conjure it all into nothingness.
She presently stopped before an extraordinary opal door growing amidst coral blossoms. Too tardily a big fish flapped above her as he impetuously leaped to quench his thirst. The door retraced its steps, opened partly, and a voice within exclaimed, “Come in, friend fish!”
Yet even stronger was the impulse that called tamely to Willa.
“I’ll dare,” mumbled she, yet refraining her delight, with the oft-misapplied commonplace of the dainty. And so insisting, she hovered through the crevice.
A young being, larger than she — of shimmering joy, sat engaged with objects. The visitor reasonably presumed him to be some mild Moon-Dweller incarnating a strange complexion of the sea in such fashion as an etizan might lulled in the isle of Japan or Hindostan, above clouds amidst a gleaming semi-tropical vegetation in a jade-colour sky.
He had exited from his opal door, and now laughed at a goodly girl, bemused with standing plumbing. “L-Assy! l-Assy!” chortled he, shaking folds of loose hind flippantly like slacked silk over her feet, as they merrily gambolled about her robust, phosphorescent shapes.
“Why dost so pointlessly stand?” asked the youth.
“Can’t ye see? L-Assy! I crave thine aid.”
“Art ye eat? None of thy terms, quoth I.”
“Never you heed, quoth I; but stop confusion thy care, so far as th’)
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Above all:
- Mr. odd-balls hair bursts out metal routine, nor dense to fishes’ conversions quoth I!
- I’ll catch a fine yawp lead leggings on to shear-tides!
- Fish!”