She-Ra-tober Fanfic #5: Leaf Pile

Fanfic #1: Rainbow

Fanfic #2: Tattoo

Fanfic #3: Evening

Fanfic #4: Purring

And now, here is my Day 5 fanfic!

Leaf Pile

Broom was unusually eager this morning!

It quivered in anticipation, almost as energetic and alive as the ancient one who held it close and murmured to it in tones as gentle and friendly as the creaking branches of a wizened old tree.

"Oh, Broom! Ze time has come, and we have much work to do!"

Madame Razz lifted the blanket flap at her cottage door and ambled outside with a lively step. She stopped to breathe the wonder of her surroundings, drinking in the sight with wide, sparkling eyes.

The magic of the woods was abundantly visible in a flurry of sparkles drifting on the air and a slow shower of gold and amber, russet and bronze.

The joy of release and renewal burst forth with the breathtaking beauty of tens of thousands of leaves floating down from the trees to carpet the clearing in crackling sunset hues.

"Ah! You see? Didn't I tell you?!?"

Razz's excitement seemed to shiver through every strand of her wild and frazzly hair! "Right on time!" she proclaimed, and with a gleeful bound, she and Broom landed in the middle of the clearing and set to work!

Between Razz's industrious shuffling and Broom's wide swoops, the leaves began to gather together in lumpy swathes and little mounds, mostly leaping ahead of them, but at times scattering chaotically in their wake.

Regardless of the haphazard quality of their methods, before long, Madame Razz and her companion had managed to brush the greater part of the clearing . . . clear!

Coming to a stop for a brief rest, Razz surveyed the pile of leaves with a slightly faraway look, and her grin brightened a bit.

"Not done yet, Broom!" she chuckled. "Zere is more! More!!"

Even as she spoke these words, the woods around them seemed to shiver and alter.

With a shifting of the light and a twisting of the trees, a transformation took place, and time swirled past, revealing another sweep of fallen leaves, teasing with a fresh palette of autumnal glory!

And into this new/old season the two companions leapt, sweeping and swooshing and herding new leaves into new clumps and rising hillocks. Tirelessly they labored, exhilarated by the novel patterns and colors.

Together, they formed a larger conglomeration as the cast-off foliage of times intermingled. And a vibrant glow grew over the rising pile of leaves.

Again and again, the times shifted, as present, future, and past played chase with one another.

Steadily, the leaf pile increased in size and brilliance.

Madame Razz beamed, dancing from age to age with Broom at her side, busy in their work that journeyed them through years, decades, and centuries beyond numbering. And all the while, the thrill of the task welled within her and poured radiantly into the world around her!

At last, Broom fell still, and Razz stepped back, admiring the glowing mountain of generations of leaves.

She took a deep breath, and cried out.

"Now!"

With a magnificent spring, she left the ground, arcing through the air to land crashing onto the top of the leaf pile!

As she sank down through the layers of the soft, crunchy mass, she felt a warmth and heard a whisper.

It was the voice of the woods, speaking its history.

Telling its stories.

Sharing its magic and the secrets it had learned.

Madame Razz listened very carefully with eyes closed and heart open.

From the first shoot of the first seed to the last bud of the final branch, she learned their stories . . . felt their joys and pains . . . cherished their hopes and understood their dreams.

And she welcomed it all, giving it space and a home.

And it filled her to tears, and it cradled her in its love.

Finally, she took a long, deep breath and opened her eyes.

She and Broom surveyed the clearing in front of their home with a sense of pride.

It was all swept clean, and the trees around them were glowing anew.

All was ready.

Madame Razz smiled at Broom, wiping a tear from her eye, and turned back toward her cottage.

"Come along, now, and we'll make some tea. Mara will be here soon!"

Madame Razz listened very carefully with eyes closed and heart open. From the first shoot of the first seed to the last bud of the final branch, she learned their stories . . . felt their joys and pains . . . cherished their hopes and understood their dreams. And she welcomed it all, giving it space and a home. And it filled her to tears, and it cradled her in its love. Finally, she took a long, deep breath and opened her eyes. She and Broom surveyed the clearing in front of their home with a sense of pride. It was all swept clean, and the trees around them were glowing anew. All was ready.

Together, they formed a larger conglomeration as the cast-off foliage of times intermingled. And a vibrant glow grew over the rising pile of leaves. Again and again, the times shifted, as present, future, and past played chase with one another. Steadily, the leaf pile increased in size and brilliance.