Under the light of a blue moon a soft cry pierces the night; the cry of a newborn babe. Messengers carry the news to waiting hordes of Fairy Land, "A girl has been born in the Vale of the Rose!"
The words are met with shouts of joy. This girl is her parents' first born and heir. She is destined to be queen of the Fair Folk, ruling in the name of Light.
Mark the time, 3:21, like a countdown, 3,2,1. She is a tiny living spark, reversing the deep dark of night.
The fairies laugh and dance and cheer, their celebrations weaving new and glorious magics in honor of their newborn queen.
The child is only dimly aware of the widespread joy her birth brings. Her destiny seems but a distant haze on the edge of the horizon. For now she is simply content to lie peacefully in her mother's arms.
To my daughter Regina, born August 31, 2012.