The Hummingbirds’ Vigil
A Tiny Tale by T. Rae Mitchell
NO ONE CAN SAY WHETHER THE GIRL in the clearing is living, dreaming, or gone. She lies in a bed of ivy as though the earth itself cradles her there. So very still and serene, caught between the last trace of night and the first spark of dawn. Light spills through the trees in molten ribbons, washing over her with the tenderness of a lover coaxing her to wake.
Her raven hair splays in a wild tangle against the dewy green. Her skin is pale, touched by the faintest bloom of pink along her cheeks. Lips as fresh as a rose look ready to be kissed. Yet her eyes, those dark-lashed lids, remain closed.
The clearing pulses with quiet life, cupped by ancient trees that lean inward, their branches sheltering her like watchful sentinels. The air stirs with the otherworldly hum of eight emerald hummingbirds. They circle her lovely face in a glittering dance, wings thrumming in perfect harmony, a living heartbeat made of jeweled light.
Now and then, one brushes her cheek with its tiny beak. Perhaps tasting for breath or trying to gift her one of its own. The forest holds its breath with them, the memory of her laughter stored within its very roots, refusing to let her slip away.
She once walked this path barefoot many times, singing softly to herself, collecting fallen petals like perfect little secrets filled with promises. That was before the storm. When the river rose, swallowing the bridge and the boy who had waited for her on the far bank.
Now, in this stillness, even the wind pauses and waits.
A single hummingbird breaks from the circle and alights on her collarbone, a flash of green flame against her white skin. Tiny talons press into the faint pulse beneath. It lifts its head, eyes glinting like gems as it chirps a hopeful note.
Her lips part, and the faintest of sighs escapes.
A waking breath? Or is it the last?
The bird gives one last trilling cry, and the others scatter upward, spinning into the golden shafts of sunlight before vanishing like sparks.
And then the stillness folds back into itself, leaving behind the echo of wings and a question that lingers like the aching memory of a kiss.
Was she waking… or being remembered?
This concludes The Humminbirds’ Vigil
(Hummingbird art by LisaLeo on Pixabay)
I hope you enjoyed this small glimpse into a world of magic and mystery. There’s much more waiting for you if you’re in the mood for a fierce heroine, dangerous secrets, slow-burn romance, and worlds where magic always comes with a price in my full-length romantasy series, Her Dark Destiny.
You can explore the books below and begin the journey anytime. Who knows, your next favorite adventure might be just a page away!
