The Golden Clover

Ainsleigh bent down to examine something shiny, tucked just underneath a plain brown mushroom, as if it was purposely shielded from sight, from everyone but her. Carefully she plucked a little clover and turned it around in her hand. She’d never actually seen a golden clover before, though they’re the stuff of legends in her small village. Apparently once someone picks it up it hardens to real gold and is a forever good luck charm. She watched as it solidified, singing her palm in the process.

“Yikes,” she exclaimed, tossing the clover to her other hand. The heat had left a mark on her palm, one of a perfect 4 leaves and stem, just like she used to doodle as a kid. She was marked. Shrugging, she smiled and placed the golden object in the pocket of her dress.

Ainsleigh had never considered her a lucky being. She may have been born royalty, but her 12 older siblings never let her forget she’s only a minor princess. She only existed in case something happened to the rest of her family and she’s somehow off picking wildflowers that day and misses getting caught in the bloodshed. She was the last spare, they’d tell her, laughing.

But honestly, she prefered it that way. She was allowed to play in the forest all day. She barely paid attention in her classes, and the teachers did the bare minimum anyway, knowing the truth of what her life was. She was to exist in hiding and would someday be married off to some other minor prince so the kingdoms could shine, their minor magic blending and carrying on the tradition of their small existence.

Smiling to herself, she whispered goodbye to the mouse family living in its small toadstool house and tiptoed on, careful not to get her feet too muddy. No one cleaned her things or bothered to notice if her feet grew; she received hand me downs from her older sisters twice a year and in between she was to make it work. Ever since the queen had disappeared, it was as if no one had the energy for her antics, or for her basic needs. She just slid through life, alone and on her own terms.

Strolling further into the forest, she noticed she had a much easier time getting through everything, as if the trees and plants bent around her. Her wings didn’t catch on the branches, and she all but floated through the brush. Usually she walked, as any moisture made them all but useless in the trees. But she flapped her wings easily and soared through as if she was a part of the forest, as if she belonged there more than anywhere.

“This clover is pretty cool,” she mumbled to herself, enjoying the journey. Finally she came to a part of the forest she’d never noticed before. The trees seemed to open up to her and an unseen light source beckoned her in, like little golden fairy lights pointing the way. She looked around, realizing nothing bad would happen to her with the clover in her pocket, and eased slowly into the lights, following one after the other through the thick brush.

Once Ainsleigh was through the clearing, she turned to see the forest seal itself up again. She gasped and jumped into the air, startled but strangely excited. It was then she noticed a cozy wooden cottage nestled into the overgrown trees, smoke pouring from the chimney. Squirrels jumped between branches and birds chirped and fluttered along, as if letting her know everything was safe.

“Hello?” she called to the house as it opened its door for her. Jumping back again, she yelped before clearing her throat and starting again. “Hello? Is someone there? I don’t mean any harm; but I think you already know that… I’m coming inside ok?”

She cautiously placed the toe of her shoe past the threshold of the door, before choosing to assume the house would allow her to enter safely. Once she was fully inside she twirled around the one room space, taking in all at once the warmth from the fireplace and the smell of cinnamon, gingerbread, and sugar. It was like walking into a memory.

Her mom used to bake cookies, shooing the kitchen staff away, their hands wringing nervously. It was a wonderful time where the children all sat in various spots across the kitchen, taking turns doing all sorts of tasks, from mixing and dropping dough on pans to cleaning the mess depending on their ages. Everyone got to eat cookies in the end and the rest of the day the smell would linger–cinnamon, gingerbread, and sugar.

Ainsleigh inhaled deeply, looking around for the source of the smell. The house was empty but she felt life all around her. On the table in front of her, a plate of cookies appeared, looking just like the ones she had seen in her memory.

“Well isn’t that odd,” she wondered aloud. “Erhm, house, might you be magical?” The lights dimmed, as if the house itself blinked in response.

“Wonderful!” she exclaimed, but then grew pensive. “While I am very glad to hear you are a magical cottage, I can’t help but wonder if you’ve always been a house or if you’ve been cursed. Were you cursed, kind house?”

The lights dimmed again.

Ainsleigh nodded, understanding. “I myself feel cursed, as I’m always having trouble flying and using any magic at all,” she answered. “It happened when my mother disappeared. Every time I try to do a tiny little spell, it goes wrong!”

The floorboards creak, making Ainsleigh think of the house sighing.

“Thanks, it really is pretty annoying,” she agrees.

She glances around again, searching for a place to sit. She chooses an overstuffed chair in front of the fireplace, sighing in contentment. She’d been stressed and anxious for so long, it felt nice to just relax. Ever since she’d found the clover, she thought, things have turned around for her a bit. She felt clearer, more connected to the earth and her magic. She flew straighter, directed the trees away from her, and found a magical cottage.

“Things are definitely turning around,” she mumbled to herself before realizing the house could probably hear her. “Never mind, house,” she said, louder. “You don’t need to hear about my bad luck.”

It was only minutes before she drifted off to sleep, having the most wonderful dreams of her family all together and prospering, with lots of little winged children–her nieces and nephews–with tiny flower crowns and bare feet. She clearly saw her mother and father in the dream, hugging each other, their gold crowns sparkling with rubies and emeralds. It was the best dream she’d had in years and she awoke crying, tears falling down her cheeks, realizing it wasn’t real.

“Oh house, it was beautiful,” she said aloud, sure the cottage was paying attention. The fire brightened, and the lights dimmed. Ainsleigh shot up out of the chair, started by the sudden change. “Stop it, that scared me!” she scolded the home. The room responded by lighting up parts of the walls, floors, and decor, Ainsleigh floating from one light to the next, trying to figure out what the house tried to tell her.

The lights flickered here and there until they stopped at a gilded mirror, golden in color and sheen. Ainsleigh looked closely, first at her own reflection, and then focusing on the outer oval surrounding the glass. Peering closer, she touched the mirror, feeling the intricate flowering design flowing all around it. She felt an indent, something that wasn’t like the rest of it.

“Can you please turn the lights back on, house?” she called out. “I can’t see this and it suddenly seems important. Did you do that, make me feel like this is an important mirror?” The lights slowly raised in the room and then flickered. Blink. Yes. She nodded, understanding.

“There’s an indent here, and it looks like a specific shape,” she mumbled aloud, touching the space again. “It almost looks like…” She gasped. “A clover!”

The house lights brightened three times as Ainsleigh fluttered around in excitement.

She had a golden clover in her pocket and she bet it would fit that space, but did she dare give away the object that gave her the first good luck she’d had in years? She had planned on keeping the clover, going home to help her family recover from the years spent flailing around. She liked being able to stay out of the spotlight, but she also wanted to be known as more than just the last spare. She wanted to help.

The clover could do that, and more. It could get them back to a place of power, and love, and prosperity. 

Or, she realized, she could offer the clover to this magical house that revealed itself to her almost immediately after she FOUND it. It could be fate leading her to something larger than prosperity for her brothers and sisters and a name for herself. 

She growled and stomped her foot, frustrated at the tough choices. “OK, OK, I know what I need to do,” she told herself.

She pulled the golden clover from her pocket, ran her fingers over its smooth and shiny surface one last time, and placed it into the mirror, in an exact fit. She pushed it and it clicked as if the two objects belonged to each other.

She backed up as the ground shook lightly. The lights flickered on and off and the house itself seemed to flicker in and out of her view. The walls began to break apart, the roof crumbling, all the pieces storming around in a tornado around her. It picked up pace, going faster and faster, getting smaller and smaller, until they seemed to explode in a large boom.

Ainsleigh dropped to a ball, covering her head with her arms, waiting for the worst of it to be over. When everything was quiet she looked around and only saw forest. She was outside, and the house was gone. Trees surrounded her as if there’d never been a house at all. She looked down at her palm, the mark of the clover giving her a hint that what had transpired was real. She hadn’t made it up.

Groaning, she stood up and stretched, wiping the dust off her clothing and flicking her wings. 

“House? Where’d you go?” she asked, turning in a circle, searching for any clue to tell her what had just happened. She saw a woman appear from the dust, dressed just as she had been the last time Ainsleigh had seen her. The woman’s crown shone in the sun, rubies and emeralds sparkling in the light. She stumbled a bit, and then found her footing.

The two smiled at each other and then ran to hug each other tightly. Ainsleigh felt like the luckiest girl in the whole world.

“Mom!”