Arabella Rainbow

An Arabella Rainbow Adventure   Beneath the canopy of the Moonbloom Glade, where glowworms sang in soft green pulses and petals never wilted, lay a mirror-still pond. Its surface shimmered not with light, but with possibility. Arabella Rainbow had passed it many times during her twilight foraging walks, but on this particular night, the air had changed. It smelled like featherdust and forgotten dreams.   Cotton, her snow-white bunny companion, twitched his ears and stared into the silver water with unusual focus. Then came the first feather — soft, pale as milk, drifting downward from a sky with no birds. More followed, trailing across the glade like a beckoning path.   Arabella gently tucked a poppy behind her ear, clutched the warm brass key that hung from her neck, and followed. Without hesitation, Cotton leapt in, barely disturbing the water. Arabella took a breath, whispered, “Well, here we go, my little cloud,” and stepped through the surface like slipping into sleep. Into the Dream Realm   The world turned quiet.   She emerged into a realm wrapped in velvet shadows, where the stars floated like fireflies and gravity swirled like mist. Giant mushrooms bloomed in blues and purples, pulsing with light like sleeping hearts. The land was shaped not by nature, but by imagination — hills folded like blankets, flowers turned to listen, and far above, a constellation shaped like a sleeping fox slowly blinked.   But the beauty was fraying.   Dark tendrils coiled through the sky like smoke, seeping into creatures who slumbered across the dreamscape. Arabella passed a family of fawns curled under a floating willow tree, their brows furrowed, legs twitching in phantom fear. A young fox whimpered in his sleep, ears flattened against imagined monsters. Nightmares had taken root — something had gone wrong in the heart of the Dream Hollow.   Cotton nestled behind Arabella’s neck, his fluffy body unusually quiet, save for a tiny hiccup-snore. His instincts had brought them here, and now it was up to her to set things right.   Brewing the Dream-Syrup   Arabella made her way to the Hollow’s center, where an enormous, ancient teacup-shaped rock stood in a circle of luminous clover. This was the Cauldron of Slumber — a dream-forging site older than the stars. From her pouch, she drew poppy petals, moonroot, and a thimble of starlight caught in a glass acorn. She hummed an old lullaby her grandmother had taught her as she crushed, stirred, and simmered the ingredients using a flame conjured from her fae wings.   The potion shimmered a soft lavender-pink and smelled like warm milk, bedtime stories, and freshly baked acorn bread.   She poured a single drop onto a sleeping squirrel’s forehead. It sighed, relaxed, and began to dream of sunlit branches and endless nut stashes. Arabella grinned.   One by one, she moved through the Hollow, dabbing and soothing each restless soul. Cotton, ever loyal, stayed on her shoulders, paws splayed like a tiny cape, tail twitching with every distant snore. The Keeper of Bad Dreams   But the source of the corruption hadn’t yet shown itself.   Near the end of her work, Arabella stumbled upon a clearing made of broken toys and cracked porcelain — a nightmare nest. A creature stood in the center, half-shadow, half-forgotten memory: a massive crow-headed figure wearing a patchwork cloak of nightmares, its eyes glowing with stolen fear.   It turned toward Arabella, a voice like wind over bones whispering, “Leave them. Let them be afraid.”   Arabella stepped forward, wings gently unfurling behind her, a soft golden glow pulsing from her key.   “I will not,” she said simply.   The creature lunged — and Cotton, suddenly quite awake, leapt from her shoulders and bounced off the creature’s face with an indignant squeak. Arabella chanted a spell of memory and comfort, weaving the dreams she’d healed into a glowing shield. The nightmare shattered like glass in a storm of light.   Return to the Glade   When Arabella awoke, she was lying on the glade’s mossy edge, Cotton curled on her chest like a fuzzy crown.   The pond was quiet again. No feathers. No shadows. Just starlight and the song of waking crickets.   As she stood, Cotton blinked sleepily, sneezed, and jumped to her shoulder.   Arabella smiled. “Well done, brave knight. Let’s go home.”   And with the moon watching fondly from above, the fae druid and her dream-hopping bunny companion disappeared into the woods once more — guardians of both the waking world and the realms of sleep.

Hobbies & Interests • Cooking hearty, herbal meals over an open flame. • Pressing wildflowers into books and scrolls. • Tending to enchanted gardens with talking vegetables. • Foraging for mushrooms—especially rare glowing ones. • Brewing herbal teas, healing balms, and love potions. • Charting the moon phases and their effects on magic. • Collecting bits of nature: feathers, stones, shells, bones.