Little Angelica and the Ants

...........................................................................

A fairy-tale of Yllana Ying

Once upon a time that could have been our time, or it could have happened many times and still be
happening somewhere, there lived a little girl named Angelica.

Angelica lived in a little town near a big forest, and although she enjoyed town life very much - parties,
shopping, pretty clothes, music and the famous singers who came for concerts in her town every
summer - she also enjoyed the forest because she wanted to be by herself whenever she could.
So, when the weather was good, she loved going to walk in the forest and wander about for hours and
hours.

Her mom, though, kept telling her not to wander too far near the heart of the forest, and follow well-
known and safe paths, because deep inside the forest there lived a very, very evil witch.
Little Angelica did not believe in witches, either good or evil ones, nor in any other silly fairy-tales.
And she never really listened to her mom because she considered her very naive.

She thought her mom had no clue and was very silly because she believed that somehow, somewhere,
somewhen, there were witches, and fairies, and unicorns, dragons and many other imaginary beings,
and she often read such books with such beings. What was even worse, Angelica thought and shook her
head in disbelief, was that her mom could even cry with real tears whenever she read some chapter in
which something bad happened to the fake, non-existent characters of the trashy books she loved!

She considered her mom even sillier, though, because she didn’t want to kill even mosquitoes or flies
and, even worse, she cried with loud sobs that made her shoulders shake up and down, ever time she
heard stories about experimenting on animals or torturing them. Sometimes her mom felt bad even
when she had to cook chicken!

Those were the two main reasons that little Angelica enjoyed going to walk in the forest. Because her
mom asked her very, very often whether she wanted to read a... a fairy-tale, or something else equally
fake and dumb, or told her that animals and insects too had the right to live because they were living
beings with a tiny, little heart and soul.
If a spider entered the house and was preparing to weave its web on the kitchen’s ventilator, her mom
took the disgusting thing softly in her hands and, taking great care not to harm it, brought the spider
out in the garden, and placed it on some tree or bush, so it could create its delicate house there!

Little Angelica felt all that was very, very, very silly! She’d much rather use a wooden fly-swatter -
that was made to look like a human hand - to chase a fly, a mosquito, or some other bug and - “swat!” -
kill it with a thud, yelling gleefully: “Gotcha!”
If some ‘harder-skinned’ fly got only dizzy from the swatter’s slap and couldn’t fly away, then Angelica
grabbed it and ripped its wings off, so she could see the tortured insect totter around in pain and
confusion for a few seconds, before she hit it once again with her fly-swatter and kill it.

Then she felt so strong and glad that she held her head up, proud that the ridiculous bug that had dared
annoy her, had been punished as it had deserved to be. And she could never, ever understand why those
extremely bothersome, little things existed in the first place.

That summer morning, Angelica was on her way to the forest. She had the wooden fly-swatter with her
as she often did. Suddenly, she saw an extremely long and winding line of marching ants!

Thousands of thousands of ants scurried one after the other, in such a long line that Angelica couldn’t
see its beginning or end.
She was very happy then because she could play another one of her favorite games.

Hopscotch!

She played it on the ants that walked on after the other, like a caravan, but she wasn’t trying to avoid
stepping on them. She was trying to stomp on as many of the little, black, useless creatures as she
could!
After all, she was a human being. Bigger, stronger, and cleverer than them, and she could do whatever
she wanted to the ants. She could and she did and that was all the proof Angelica needed!

So, stomping here and there, stepping on the ants, running forward and backward to step on the few
that had gotten away, she kept going deeper and deeper inside the forest following the ant caravan.

She wasn’t paying attention, though, and walked far from the paths she knew well. Suddenly, she
realized she was... lost! Angelica tried to go back, following her steps backwards, but she failed to
retrace her steps.
Other than dead ant bodies strewn everywhere on the ground, the tail end of the ant caravan was in
such disarray that she could not tell the way back anymore.
She couldn’t even find the way back from the trees or other characteristics of the forest, because when
she was playing hopscotch she wasn’t looking all around her. She was only looking down, at the forest
floor!

Little Angelica was terrified. Crying and sobbing she started running among the trees, hither and thither
and yon, until she found herself in a little forest clearing.
A pretty little cottage was in front of her. It had a garden, a white fence, pretty curtains in the windows,
a smoky chimney and the fragrance of fresh, mouth-watering cookies with butter and cinnamon wafted
from the cottage and perfumed the air.
The little girl felt so relieved then. She opened the little fence gate and entered the garden.
Suddenly, the gate closed behind her with a wooden bang, and then... someone cackled!

A black-dressed old woman, the ugliest Angelica had ever seen, came flying on her broom out of the
door. She flew so fast that in less than two seconds she had grabbed the little girl from the collar of her
dress!

“Swat! Gotcha!” cackled the evil woman in triumph.

“Let me go! Let me go!” The little girl screamed and cried and sobbed, trying to hit the old woman
with the fly-swatter she was still holding in her hand. Of course, she couldn’t even touch her because
she was flying very fast, making loops in the air, cackling and sneering and laughing.

“Let you go?” sneered the witch. Because she was none other than the evil witch her mother had
warned her about.

“LET YOU GO? I haven’t had little girl’s meat since ... since... for so long, that even I don’t even
remember how long it has been!” yelled the shrew, cackling again. “And you... mmmmm... I’m certain
yours is going to be the most succulent and tasty meat of all, evil little girl!”

Despite her terror, little Angelica yelled: “If you hurt me, my dad will come here with his gun and he
will kill you!”

“Baaaahahahaha! What can a simpleton, a lower species of creature like a human, do to me, stupid
lass? *I* am a witch! A famous, powerful witch and nobody can even compare with me, much less
hope to best me! You see, *I* am the Witch of Revenge!
To me, you and your dad are nothing more than... insects. Tasty insects, for sure! So, let your dad come
with his gun. I’ll eat him too!” concluded the witch and shrieked with laughter.

“Let me go! Let me go, I said!” Angelica screamed in terror and panic.

That would have been the end of little Angelica, the girl who felt happy stomping on ants and killing
insects, the girl who felt no sadness for any other creature, if not for another witch, a faerie witch, who
happened to hear the razzmatazz in the forest.

That witch had had many names, although her real name was Yllana Ying, but people often called her
the Faerie Witch of Justice because she always tried to be fair, impartial and objective. And she
invariably was.
If she had to punish someone, then she let that being punish itself. If she should forgive, then she
guided that person to forgive himself or herself and others to forgive him or her. If she were able to turn
something unfair into a good thing, then she felt really, really happy!

Yllana, the Faerie Witch of Justice was arbitrating a dispute between two families of the Aerika of
Voreas - the air spirits of the north wind - and the Sylphs of Zephyr, the beautiful and gentle, air spirits
of the west wind, who were on the brink of war.
Yllana was sitting on a cloud bank, among the disputing air spirits, when she heard Angelica’s screams!
She excused herself and flew down, sprouting beautiful, silver-colored wings, to see what had caused
such a commotion.

The silver-haired, green-eyed faerie witch was mortified when she realized what was happening. She
was also very, very angry because in the face of the evil, old witch, she recognized her oldest and best
friend, Tristana. Tristana had become an evil witch, forgetting her gentle faerie nature a long, long time
ago. The two faeries had been students of a famous faerie sorceress for many years, but Tristana had
followed the road of evil, while Yllana had followed the road of good.
She had been looking for her friend, having vowed to find her and help her regain her real nature, for
almost a century now, while she was traveling all over the world doing what she loved. Being a faerie
godmother, helping resolve disputes as the witch of justice, and creating good out of evil.

She got her one of her wands out, hidden under the pretty, iridescent grey gown she was wearing - that
had taken and angry, dark grey color now, like thunder clouds before a storm - moved it with a flourish,
uttering a magical formula at the same time, and turned little Angelica into a cat!
Angelica-cat managed to squirm out of the old woman’s grasp - cats are very agile, you see - but the
Witch of Revenge screamed and began uttering a spell to turn Angelica back into a little girl again!

But she did not complete her spell! Yllana twirled her magic wand again that was glowing grey and
lightning-yellow now, and turned the witch into a mouse!

The witch-mouse squeaked in terror and tried to run away, but the svelte Angelica-cat grabbed her with
her claws and kept her pinned and motionless on the forest floor.
She opened her mouth, full of sharp canines and powerful incisors, menacingly.

“Let me go! Let me go!” yelled the witch-mouse presently, who from a superior being had suddenly
become a meek, humble, little mouse.

“What am meow to do?” said Angelica-cat looking at the Faerie Witch of Justice with her feline eyes.
Being a cat, she could see the creatures of the... imagination and had recognized Yllana for who and
what she was.

“What you think is fair to do” she said as her dress turned greyer.

Then I’ll eat her” hissed Angelica-cat and opened her mouth wide, ready to cut the witch-mouse in two.

But she did not complete the action.

She felt herself shrink... and shrink... losing her cat shape, and watched, with her eyes wide from terror,
the witch grow... and grow... and finally turn from the mouse she had been into... little Angelica!

She herself, the real Angelica who had been transformed into a cat, was now nothing more than a small,
insignificant ant!

Angelica-ant wiggled her antennae and started running as fast as she could, because the Witch-
Angelica began stomping her foot here and there, trying to find her, step on her little ant body and
crush it!
The forest floor thundered and shook from the heavy steps of the Witch-Angelica. Angelica-ant’s body
jumped up and down as she ran, as if a strong earthquake rattled the entire forest! Even worse, the
thunderclap from the witch’s feet, as they stomped on the ground, was coming closer and closer.
Angelica-ant was mortified, more scared than she could ever have imagined she could be. She expected
the sudden, sharp pain that she’d feel when the Witch-Angelica would crush her with her foot.

Then a strange thought crossed her mind. A kind of thought she had never had before.
She had never thought that the ants she stepped on with glee could also feel pain and be afraid. She had
never, ever imagined that they experienced - with their own ant mind, of course - the threat of her own
steps when she played hopscotch on them in exactly the same way; that they could feel mortal terror
like she was feeling now.

She started crying then. Really crying, with sobs that rattled her heart. A heart that had been so cold
until that moment. She shed tears - if an ant can cry with tears, that is - for all the ants she had killed,
all the flies she had ripped the wings off of, for the mosquitoes, for her mom whom she considered so
foolish when she saw her crying for a hen or for something that happened inside a fantasy book.

She heard the foot of the Witch-Angelica fall heavily on the forest floor again, even nearer. The ground
shook so violently that her little ant body was hurled on the air. Angelica-ant knew that the next stomp
would be right on the mark. On her.
As expected, she suddenly saw a huge, heavy shadow created by something that was falling from the
sky, covering the light around her, covering her, getting closer at great speed, plunging the entire world
in deep darkness, and then...

“That’s enough!” cried Yllana twirling her magic wand again. Her cloudy gown had turned deep blue.
The Witch-Angelica’s foot stopped moving. It remained motionless on the air, just a few centimeters
above Angelica-ant.

As if she were on a world where the sun was perpetually eclipsed by a dark moon, Angelica-ant
wiggled her antennae and raised her head to look around. Could she... was it possible that she had
escaped death? Despite the thick grass that hid the view - they were like huge trees compared to her
size as an ant - and despite the even more gigantic foot of the Witch-Angelica, she heard the witch’s
voice that boomed like a thunder from some sky giant:

“She would have eaten me when I was a mouse!!” shrieked the Witch-Angelica. “It’s only fair that I get
my revenge on her!”

“Oh, is it?” Yllana said raising her left eyebrow.

You would have eaten me too, when I was a little girl! You said my meat would be tasty and suck..y...
succulent!” Angelica-ant yelled as loudly as she could then, opening and closing her pinchers angrily,
feeling a bit of her courage return now, after the intervention of the Faerie Witch of Justice. “I deserved
to get my revenge on you! It would have been only fair that I had!”

“You killed all those ants too, you tortured flies and you laughed at their pain” sneered the Witch-
Angelica back, laughing malevolently.

“They are nothing more than annoying, little bugs! Good for nothing. They are useless and totally
stupid!” yelled Angelica-ant obstinately. “I am a little girl. I am human!”

“Not anymore” said Yllana matter-of-factly. Her gown had turned very dark grey again.

Angelica-ant began sobbing and crying again.

The Witch-Angelica screeched a cackle.

“Your turn will come soon, Tristana” Yllana said. “I would advise you to ask yourself why you, a
famous, evil witch, the mighty Witch of Revenge, are powerless against me. Why I could transform
you so easily or stop your spells”.

The Witch-Angelica felt the cackle drown in her throat as if she had just swallowed a rock.

Angelica-ant stopped sobbing for a moment and asked: “Will... will you let her step on me, after all?
Aren’t you going to protect me like a real faerie godmother would? My mom always said that faerie
godmothers in her books...”

“I am not a faerie godmother at the moment and you do not deserve a faerie godmother, Angelica” said
Yllana. “The poor insects you so ruthlessly killed did not have one to protect them from you”.

Little Angelica-ant’s voice drowned inside her tiny throat as if she had just swallowed a pebble. Her
voice trembling, she asked:

“So, you are... you will let the witch...”

“Would it be fair and just if I let her step on you?” asked Yllana.

“No!”

“Why not?”

“Because... because... I promise I shall never step on an ant again, nor will I kill a fly or rip its wings
off, and I shall never again laugh at my mom when she feels sorry for the chickens. Now, will you turn
me back into a little girl again?” Angelica-ant said all in one breath.

“Don’t believe her!” yelled the Witch-Angelica. “She is promising only because she is scared! If she is
turned into a little girl again, she will do exactly the same thing very soon. You’ll see! She will also try
to get her revenge on you because of what you did to her by torturing and killing scores and scores of
bugs! The only fair thing is for me to stomp on her!”

“You keep quiet!” shouted Angelica-ant then, feeling her ant thorax swell up, full of anger at the
injustice she felt was being done to her, and wiggling her antennae furiously. “You don’t know what it’s
like being an ant, with a huge human foot over your head, ready to crush you! The only fair and just
thing would be for you to become an ant, and someone step on you and crush you! And if I were the
one to do it, so much the better!”

Little Angelica-ant realized what she had just said and her throat went dry drowning her voice. She
looked all around her. Perhaps... if she could run as fast as her six legs could carry her, she could hide
under a leaf, or a rock, or a fallen tree branch, or... anywhere, as long as she could get away from the
Witch-Angelica’s wrath. Unless... unless the witch decided to look for her and crush her, as she had
looked for the ants that had tried to get away and survive her... hopscotch!

This thought made her thorax and belly constrict with fear. How could she manage to defend herself
against that furious witch who was wearing her own shape and form?
How could she even get away from that all-powerful faerie witch, Yllana, who could, with a flick of
her wand, find her wherever she could hide?
The faerie witch’s wand then, wouldn’t be too different from the fly-swatter she, Angelica, had used
so... masterfully, so many times in the past. The fly-swatter lay on the ground now a few meters away
from her, when it had slipped off her hand after the Faerie Witch of Justice had turned her into a cat.

The little girl-ant felt sobs shaking her tiny body again and her little, thinner than thread, neck so dry
that she couldn’t utter one word.
Yllana, the Faerie Witch of Justice, thought, sighed patiently and her clothes took on a slightly less dark
blue. Then, she flicked her illuminated wand again.

Angelica-ant disappeared, and where the little girl-ant stood, a duplicate of the witch, as she was
originally, took its place. An evil, bitter old woman dressed in black.

“What is the meaning of this?” squawked the Witch-Angelica who was standing next to her facsimile
who was really little Angelica.

Angelica-Witch - who had been Angelica-ant a few seconds before - looked at her hands and her body,
and started screaming, in a shrill voice, in the exact same way the Witch-Angelica had.

“I thought you’d turn me back into a little girl again! Why, I promised you exactly what you wanted me
to promise! For a faerie witch godmother of Justice, you’re very mean and vengeful!” she accused
Yllana, feeling much more courageous now that the threat of being crushed under the foot of the Witch-
Angelica was, seemingly, gone now.

“You two are so similar in character and personality. You are connected in invisible ways, invisible
threads, like everything else in both the human and the faerie world” said Yllana in a sad voice.
“You, Tristana, were once a little faerie girl like me. Do you remember? You were full of zest and joy
of life and our teacher was as proud of you as she was of me.
But then... then you slowly turned into a ‘Angelica’. Cold, unfeeling, seeking power over everything
and everyone, going deeper and deeper into the dark side.
I became a faerie godmother and, as people call me, the Faerie Witch of Justice. You... do you want to
know what you were going to be called if the future had turned out differently, Tristana?”

“What?” said the Witch-Angelica in a suspicious and rather sneering tone.

“You were going to be the Faerie Witch of Understanding, Tristana. Instead, you began accumulating
your magical power from hateful sources or people. Where there was hatred, blind hate and suffering,
the more powerful a witch you became, until you earned the title Witch of Revenge”, Yllana said in the
saddest of voices, and her gown took on a dark, blood-red color.
“And you, Angelica”, she said turning toward Angelica-Witch, “will some day become another kind of
‘Witch of Revenge’ in the human world, so you may as well look like one even now. And yet...”, the
silver-haired Faerie Witch of Justice continued after a little pause, “... I sense there might be some small
flicker inside both of your hearts. A flicker of kindness, understanding, and forgiveness. So... ”

“So... what?” asked the Witch-Angelica.

“I’m going to give you both one chance” said Yllana.

“What sort of chance?” said the Witch-Angelica looking at Yllana suspiciously.

“What sort of chance?” asked, with equal suspicion, Angelica-Witch.

Yllana sighed again. Her gown turned pitch black on the left side and snow white on the right one. She
flicked her wand once again and uttered a magical phrase. The girl who had the shape of an evil witch
and the evil witch who had the shape of a girl couldn’t hear it.

“You, Angelica-Witch are granted the power, from this moment, to transform the Witch-Angelica into
an ant and, if you want, step on it and crush it. If you do, you will gain her magical powers but you will
remain the Witch of Revenge forever. Your heart will be as black as coal and you will be able to dictate
your will to everyone, get your revenge on everyone, whenever you want and for any reason
whatsoever. You will even be able to ‘eat’ that creature, human, animal or insect!
If you don’t do it, though, if you don’t crush Tristana under your foot, then you will turn back into a
kind-hearted, sensitive little girl and I shall also bestow a great gift upon you!”

“WHAT?!?” screeched furiously the Witch-Angelica. “You can’t... you wouldn’t dare...”

“Yes, I can and I would, Tristana” Yllana interrupted her. “I assure you I can. You see, your powers are
based only in hatred. They are fed from hatred. I do not hate you, nor do I wish to harm you. That is
why you are powerless over me. That is the reason you cannot undo or counteract my magic. Your
powers are waning. Despite her horrific behavior, Angelica cried not for herself or because of the
danger she was in. The danger of being totally absorbed, ‘eaten’ by you. Her cold, remorseless heart
was surrounded by ice but a small crack appeared when she shed one tear of regret for the ants she had
killed. She, and all persons like her, are the ones who give you power, my old friend. When she cried
her first tear of compassion for another creature, your powers began to disappear. Yes, Tristana. I would
dare...” concluded the Faerie Witch of Justice.

“You call yourself a witch of justice but you are no better than the rest of us!” barked the Witch-
Angelica fuming. “You just want to get your revenge on me and the stupid, human girl!”

“No, not at all” said Yllana. “I am not a punisher. That is why I’m giving this chance to Angelica and to
you. The chance to choose. You are powerless against me, Tristana, but you still have one power. You
can resist the spell of Angelica-Witch and refuse to become an ant. You can turn the spell against her
and, if you want, step on her and crush her. You can shout once again: ‘Swat! Gotcha!’ like she used to
do every time she killed a fly with her fly-swatter!”

Yllana Ying, the Faerie Witch of Justice walked between the girl and the witch and faced the Witch-
Angelica who was glaring at her, with her eyes full of fire like burning coals. Yllana’s face was calm
and dispassionate.

“If you do,“ she continued, “then you will remain a ‘Angelica’ forever with a heart as black as coal.
Even without the powers of a witch, you will be able to ‘step on and crush’ every living being, showing
your power over it by killing or destroying it. If you do not choose that road, then the circle of revenge
will break. You will become who you were meant to be, and I shall also bestow a great gift upon you!”

She stepped away from between the two and concluded calmly:

“The choice is yours”.

The Witch-Angelica and Angelica-Witch looked at each other for a few seconds. Then they both raised
their arms, ready for the spell.

And then, suddenly, on the forest floor, the marching ants’ caravan arrived continuing its long trek. It
passed between them, without fear, having regrouped and forgotten what had happened some time ago.
It was, perhaps, their little brains that were incapable of realizing the danger they were in again.
Perhaps it was... something else.
Whatever it was, though, - thought Angelica bewildered - it was exactly what prevented the ants from
seeking revenge for what had happened to them, or punishment, or even justice.

The little girl that had the shape of an evil witch felt then, as if she were inside a dream, that when the
witch that had her shape was a little girl, she too stomped on the ants and felt the need to get her
revenge on any creature she considered inferior, or any creature she thought harmed her in any way.
She never listened to her faerie teacher, thinking she was so naive and silly, like she, Angelica,
considered her mom.
And then, when she slowly had become the fearsome Witch of Revenge, she got her revenge on
everyone she believed was doing something wrong, whether the victim had asked for it or not. She had
begun enjoying the revenge itself, the power it gave her, not any sense of justice toward the victim. She
lived for revenge, breathed in the power given her and was proud to be called the Witch of Revenge.
The ants, though, had not asked for justice or revenge for the evil that she had committed against them.

Angelica-Witch was very surprised when she realized at that moment with absolute certainly that her
thoughts were also the Witch-Angelica’s thoughts as if both of them were but mirages on a mirror. She
could not even tell anymore who the real person was and who was the idol. She could not tell if one of
them were real and the other one an idol, or whether both of them were idols, or both of them real.

Even more curious, she knew that the Witch-Angelica also knew, and, like her, Angelica-Witch knew
the ants were marching without fear, without thinking, without understanding that the same disaster
they had experienced earlier could be repeated now too. And they had not even stopped to ask for
revenge or even vindication.

The small, insignificant, inferior bugs that had such smaller minds than her own human one, were
totally incapable of vindicating themselves, ask for revenge, or commit an evil act. Then, it suddenly
dawned on her - among all these strange and unusual thoughts for a little girl, thoughts even more
unusual for Angelica herself - that even mosquitoes and flies never did anything evil or out of malice.
They only did what was natural to them, to survive and enjoy their lives. Eat, play, fly, buzz, lay eggs,
live and, finally, die.

They were capable of all that, even though they were but “silly, useless insects” as she had always
thought of them. She, herself, though, possessing a human mind, had proven she had been capable of
torturing and killing, having chosen to do so, and the sole purpose had been her own pleasure, revenge
or power.
Then, a being that had considered herself far superior than a little, human girl - like the Witch-Angelica
who was the Witch of Revenge - had thought of her as nothing but a useless, silly creature and she was
ready to eat her or crush her under her foot, after Yllana Ying, the Faerie Witch of Justice, had turned
the evil witch into “Angelica” and her into an ant.
“I can’t do it” said Angelica-Witch, lowering her arms. “I don’t want to harm the Witch of Revenge, I
don’t want to hate her, and I don’t care to have such powers. All I want is to become little Angelica as
I’ve always been”. “Well, not *exactly* as I’ve always been” she added hurriedly.

The Witch-Angelica cackled a bit like she always had up until then, as if she were ready to shoot the
spell granted by her old friend against Angelica-Witch, when, suddenly, she too lowered her arms and
looked at Yllana with her face looking quite confused.

“I don’t want to do it either. But... now that little Angelica has refused to turn me into an ant, what will
we do? What does it all mean?”

Yllana Ying’s eyes sparkled like emeralds in the morning sun. She smiled and her gown turned into a
beautiful, golden hue as if the sun were shining again between the clouds, after a storm. Her silver hair
shone like liquid silver. The Faerie Witch of Justice was so happy that she laughed merrily.

“It means this circle has broken, Tristana. This circle of revenge, accusation, vindication! It means you
are both free now, you and the little girl, and...”

She raised her wand that shone liquid gold and silver and a blinding flash emanated from its tip.

“...these are my gifts!”

When the blinding light had subsided, little Angelica looked at her body and she touched her face with
her little hands. She squealed with joy when she realized she had been given her original shape again.
That of a little girl.
She looked at her opponent then but where the Witch-Angelica had been standing only seconds before,
a beautiful, young woman now stood who was looking at her with a broad smile. She had very long,
black and curly hair and wore a purple shimmering gown.

“I am Tristana” she said.

“You are not a witch anymore”, Angelica said half-fearfully, half-relieved.

“I am still a witch” Tristana said, “But I am not the Witch of Revenge, anymore. Somewhere inside you
there was the tender heart of a child, innocent and pure. A heart that, I believe, you have inherited from
your mother. That heart was still beating under all that ice and it was that sparkle, that Yllana made
both of us realize by subjecting us to these trials”. Her voice trailed...

“That heart was identical to mine or, perhaps, I, myself, was your darkened heart and you were mine
before... before...” said the former Witch of Revenge who was now the Faerie Witch of Understanding,
but she couldn’t finish her sentence. A deep sob made her shoulders tremble. She covered her face with
her hands and began crying and wailing as a terrible wave of remorse washed over her.
Yllana ran and hugged her tightly and so did Angelica.

Suddenly, a small, clickety voice was heard, coming from the forest floor.

“As if it weren’t enough that you are so disgustingly sentimental, you almost stepped on us again!”
Angelica looked all around her, left and right, up and down, when she suddenly realized, with a start,
that the voice had come from an ant that seemed to have been elected ‘leader’, since it was standing in
the center of a circle of ants that had been formed inside the marching ants’ caravan.

“I am awfully sorry” said Angelica with her eyes wide-open, and looked at Yllana who was still trying
to console her old friend.

“That is my gift” said Yllana silently, moving only her lips without sound.

The little girl was flabbergasted. What could she possibly say to the ants for her horrid acts?

“I’m so sorry that...” she started saying but she too began sobbing violently.

“Well, little human girl, saying ‘I’m so sorry’ will not make our comrades come back. Our hundreds of
comrades that you crushed playing that evil game of yours” said the ant leader angrily. “But... we’ve
survived all these thousands, millions of years, outliving so many enemies. We’ll survive now too.
After all... we ants have a different kind of mind. A hive mind, a group mind. We’re not human” -

‘and thank Nature for that’ said another ant sarcastically -

and Angelica heard a sound that only she and the faeries could hear that cannot be described in human
terms, but it was the laughter of the ants.

“...and we don’t mourn the loss of our own individuals the way you do, nor do we have any need for
revenge” continued the ant leader.

“I will never, ever be able to forgive myself” said Tristana, the Faerie Witch of Understanding then, as
if she were talking to herself.

“Neither will I” said Angelica too with her trembling lips.

The ant leader twitched its antennae, made a sound that Angelica thought it was like an ironic cough,
flicked its front pair of legs in a certain way and the circle was dissolved. The ant leader was again
incorporated inside the main body of the ant caravan and the march was resumed as if nothing out of
the ordinary had just happened.

“Guilt doesn’t really help” said Yllana Ying then. “You, Tristana, will have all eternity to correct all the
evil that you helped unleash in the world. You can do that by acts of kindness and understanding, by
changing things for the better. Acts that will abolish evil. Not with other evil acts that beget more of the
same. You have your old form back, the way you should have been. That was my gift to you. To turn
the time back and take away the ugliness that your own evil actions marked your face and body with.”

She turned toward the little girl then.

“So should you, Angelica. Use my gift of understanding the language and actions of every living
creature, correctly!”
They remained silent for a few seconds, each thinking her own, private thoughts, and then, Yllana
Ying, the Faerie Witch of Justice sprang a pair of wings again and flew up until she was lost inside the
puffy clouds.
Tristana, the Faerie Witch of Understanding caressed the little girl’s face and walked away slowly,
sighing, toward her cottage.

Angelica realized then that she had not had the time to ask them how to get out of the forest. She was
still as lost as ever.

Suddenly, she heard a shrill whistling sound, that was not really a sound, coming from the marching
ants a few meters away.

“Are you coming? We’re finished for today and we’re going back to our nest with all that great loot we
got. We won‘t wait for you, though, for long. So, hurry if you‘re coming at all!”

Angelica was more than happy to follow the marching ants. She took great care not to step accidentally
on any one of them. Then, she heard the voice of the ant leader, a voice that only she could hear, or was
it the voice of many ants speaking altogether. The voice said:

“Anyhow...” it said and stopped for a second to make the effect of what it had to say even more serious,
“...anyhow, if one of your own, a human, who enjoys stepping on ants or other little creatures or
exterminates us ruthlessly or harms other animals, suddenly discovers an entire army of our cousins,
the termites, eating his house little by little, he should not wonder why the termites chose his house
instead of his neighbor’s!”

“But... I thought you had no use or ability to get revenge on anyone...” stammered Angelica.

Not we, hon. Nor is it revenge. We all have our roles and our positions in the scheme of things, anyway.
It’s the hidden laws and rhythms of Nature that...” said the ant voice and was silent. The little girl saw
the fly-swatter lying on the ground then. She lifted it, held it in her hand and without speaking she
followed the marching ants.

They walked for some time and after passing through a big copse of trees they were out of the forest.
Angelica saw in the distance the first houses of her little town.
She thanked the ant caravan and ran toward her house feeling free and exhilarated.

Her mother was quite upset! The day was well on its way to noon. There was a nice breeze and little
puffy clouds on the sky, but it was also rather hot and all the windows in the house were open.

“There are so many flies and ants in the house today that they are driving me crazy!” yelled her mother.
“I just can’t understand what they are looking for and they are going around and around all over the
house. And it’s really hot today, but I want the windows open to air the house!”

Angelica felt immediately the flies following a smell, or air currents, or energy currents that they could
perceive and had meaning for them, but humans couldn’t.
She raised her hand pointing toward the window and said silently as if she were speaking inside her
mind:
“Hit the road, little ones! And I don’t want to see you inside the house again! I’ll leave half a peach for
you to eat out in the garden, but I don’t want you in here! And you...” she said to some ants that were
already descending from the kitchen window toward the sink “... I’ll bring all the crumbs left from
lunch out near your nest and you can have a feast every day. But now... get out! Agreed?”

The troupe of flies buzzed and flew out the window, the ants reversed their course and climbed up the
windowsill one after the other and left too. They never entered the house again that day, or any other
day. (Well, if a little ant or fly was in an adventurous mood and went exploring inside the house from
time to time, it wasn’t such a terrible thing, was it?) As for the mosquitoes, they were testier and much
more difficult to come to terms with, but Angelica managed to reach an agreement with them and they
left her family alone. Most of the time!

Anyhow, that evening, when her father came home from work and the family sat down to dinner, her
mother said:

“I really don’t know what to think, it‘s really mind-boggling. The house was full of flies and ants this
morning and, suddenly, about the time Angelica came home from her walk, they all disappeared.”

“Maybe we ought to buy one of those machines you plug-in, that drive all bugs away with some sort of
sound frequency” her father said.

“That’s a good idea” her mother said. “As long as they are environmentally sound and friendly to
people’s health. We won’t even have to use that awful fly-swatter again too. I hate killing bugs, no
matter how much they... bug us.”

Her father laughed with her mother’s pun and Angelica couldn’t help it and rolled her eyes at the ‘lame’
joke.
“Oh, I don’t know” she said in a cryptic and mischievous tone. “I feel we won’t need either that
machine, or the fly-swatter anymore. No little bug will ever make a pest of itself in this house again. As
for the fly-swatter, some... some termites got to it!”

‘What do you mean, Angel?” asked her father, puzzled with his daughter’s change of stance toward the
‘annoying bugs’ she had always hated. “Have you suddenly discovered you possess some kind of
magical ability like the characters in your mom’s books? You’ve always hated insects!” he laughed.

“Maybe I have, daddy” said Angelica, sticking her tongue out playfully at her dad.
“And... mom? I would like to read one of your fantasy books with fairytales. Perhaps, one with faerie
godmothers and witches in it. Oh, and another book about ecology, too!”

*******

High up in the evening sky, on a small, puffy, cumulus cloud illuminated by the setting sun,Yllana Ying
sat with her feet dangling in the air. Two beautiful, little beings sat to her left and right, playfully
swinging their legs, and holding hands behind the larger faerie’s back.
“It seems your families resolved the dispute while I was gone and my intervention was not necessary,
after all” she said smiling at the two air spirits.

“Yes, they did” said the little boy whose skin and hair had many pretty shades of azure. “They watched
what was happening on the earth below between you, and that witch and the girl and they, finally,
understood!”

“Everything is connected” Yllana said again. “What happened on the earth was also a catalyst for your
races to solve their own differences too. I am so happy, Aeolinus, that you and little Astria will be able
to marry with your parents‘ blessings. The first marriage between an Aeriko of Voreas and a Sylph of
Zephyr!”

The little sylph giggled then. Her violet hair and skin shone brightly in the rays of the sun. Suddenly,
she got more sober and asked:

“Aeolinus and I will be married when the ‘wind changes’ very soon. We cannot thank you enough,
Yllana.”

“I was so certain that you would manage to straighten the witch and the human girl up too. I never
doubted it. Not for one second!” said Aeolinus.

“I did...” said Yllana then, and her voice had a tinge of sadness.

“What do you mean?” asked the little faeries, surprised.

“I was never sure, little ones. Being certain of an outcome is not what giving choices or having free
will is about.”

“Do you mean that the human girl will... and Tristana will...again... become...” stammered little Astria
and Aeolinus.

“No. Not this Angelica, or Tristana” said the silver-haired Yllana and her emerald eyes coruscated in
the rays of the sun in the west, as the shadows on the earth got longer with the coming of twilight and
night. “That circle has been broken now, but there are many ‘Angelicas’ in this world, much, much
worse than that particular little girl, and equally many ‘Witches of Revenge’. But... there are not
enough faerie godmothers, or faerie witches of justice, around anymore...”

THE END

Copyright by ‘Yllana Ying”, 2009. All rights reserved. The story above has been written by and
belongs to the real life person behind ‘Yllana Ying’, whose RL identity is known to, and at the disposal
of, Linden Labs as per the TOS all SL residents have agreed on. It is protected by International
copyright.
It has been published under agreement with ....