Chapter Text
A white dove in crystal skies, the air as fresh as a farm. The white dove fluttered over the horizon down an old french monastery. The bell ringing as their wings fluttered open, their feet landing on the roof. The dove twittered his song, his chest out as he swayed his fan. Twirling and kicking his feet on this old roof
Wind master : you’re sure to do impossible things! When you follow your heart. Ho ho, you’re sure to fly on magical wings when you follow your heart!
Wind master laughed to him self and sighed, his song stopping for only a moment.
Wind master : agh!!! Hello, welcome to Paris! City of love, I am white dove extraordinaire shi Qingxuan. Call me wind master, Lover of all beautiful things!
Wind master flew into the air once again, his white wings gliding him through the town of old.
Wind master : you’re sure to do impossible things when you follow your heart!
The white dove flew into a cracked window. His voice boisterous as he sings proudly.
Wind master : you’re sure to fly on magical wings when you follow your heart, WHEN YOU FOLLOW YOUR HEAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRT! Ha hah hah! Oh! I love the sound of my voice. Ho ho ho
Wind master looked over to the dusty books as he flew in and landed on a large table. The library filled with them, romance books galore. He lay down, his head in his winged hand on a warm satin pillow.
Wind master : you know I love romances, but these books are stories with impossible problems. Romeo and Juliet, oh how impossible, Samson and Delilah ooo so impossible. The story I want to tell you today, well it’s impossibly small.
Shi Qingxuan walked over to the small book opening it up to the first page. His voice echoing as he spoke.
Once upon a time there was a lonely man who wish to have a child of his own. They called him Guóshī, Guóshī was not really a lonely man but his little farm house is Filled with animals to keep him company. Still he wishes for that hole in his heart to be filled…
One day he paid a visit to a good witch at the edge of his village. The good witch had given him a barley comb. “Plant it in a flower pot” she said and see what happens.
Méi Niánqing did what he was told and it began growing! Until at last…
The steam of the flower started to bloom, the green stem uncurling. Guóshī gasped softly and gave the flower bud a small kiss.
Méi Niánqing: what a beautiful flower…
The petals started to unfurl, the white shiny dew drops making way down to the tiniest little infant boy. Wrapped in pollen and soft baby flower petals as a blanket.
There eyes started to open, with a soft coo. Guóshī gasped, his mouth covered as tears started to spill down the sides of his cheek. Méi Niánqing held him self for a moment and calmed down. With 3 big breaths he counted to 8. His eyes meeting his sons…
Guóshī : oh…my baby boy…your name will be thumblian.
With his pinky and a warm smile he gently touched the infants tiny hand. There little golden eyes opening up with a coo. They blinked a bit and yawned. Méi Niánqing knew…this would be a challenge…a child the size no bigger than his pinky, but he would love his child no matter what. His one and only son.
So ever since, little Thumblian was treated like a precious fragile crystal. Baths always in a tiny seed pod. Even his crib carved from a twig…oh how difficult the world is for little Thumblian no bigger than a pinky.