Therapeutic Bedtime Stories for Children - Free complete book donated by authors. Part 2

Orion’s Stormy Flight
Part Two

The weather had changed. Rain had now surrendered to warm sunshine as Rosador swooped down into the clearing outside her family tree.  She felt relieved to be home at last.  She knew they were late but at least she and Orion were safe. Or so she thought. 

“Phew, Orion, my cloak was getting so heavy with rain; I couldn’t even feel that you were there! Orion, you okay?” She undid the cloak strap around her neck as she turned around to face him. The soaking cloak fell to the ground. Horrified, Rosador realised Orion was no longer with her.
“Oh no!” she cried.
Hearing Rosador’s voice, her parents ran outside, relieved to find her safely home. It felt like they had been waiting forever for the youngster’s return. Her mum and dad were shocked to hear that Rosador and Orion had even dared to think of sharing one cloak between them. And during a rain storm. Every elf on Wellness Island knew they should never share one cloak, even in sunny weather. It was too late now. They couldn’t feel angry with Rosador. They were so relieved she was safely home. But Orion ... what had become of Orion?

In that moment, a thudding, rolling, churning sound could be heard vibrating along the ground. Orion’s dad appeared on a massive, cool machine, well known throughout Cloakwood Forest as the Acorn Crusher. Orion’s mum and dad owned that amazing factory that made those scrumptious crisps we were telling you about.
Orion’s dad clambered off the huge machine. His name was Origor. Origor’s face was deep red and rugged from spending most of his time outdoors. His hands and face were big and soft. He was bigger than most elves. He didn’t speak very much and when he did, he spoke slow...ly. Rosador blurted her story out to Orion’s dad.
“There’s only one thing to do. Only one thing,” Origor said slowly.
“Yes?” everyone asked at the same time, leaning forward expectantly.
“One thing only.”

“Origor ... come on ... what is it?” Rosador’s dad asked impatiently.
“We listen to the bird, that’s what we do. Stay silent and listen! They’ll soon tell us where my son is,” he said confidently.
On Wellness Island, elves and birds were very close. The elves understood the messages and clues the birds gave out through their songs. Every bird’s song had its own special message to share. Some elves were more tuned in than others. Origor picked up the most clues of all.
The elves huddled together, listening quietly. It was the song of the thrush that told them where Orion was.
“AHA!” Origor shouted. “That’s it! Orion’s safe. That daft fulture Fumblekins took ’im by accident. ’E thought Orion was an ’obgoblin and ’e took him down to the Dark Forest, that’s what ’e did! ’E’s in the Dark Forest. We ’ave to go and get ’im, that’s what we ’ave to do!”
Everyone relaxed, breathing huge sighs of relief. Orion was safe. They knew they could trust the song of the beautiful thrush!
Not too far away in the Dark Forest, Fulture King was angry.
“You’ve done it again, Fumblekins; you’ve snatched the wrong creature ... not even a hobgoblin but an elf! What were you thinking of?” he asked, raising his wings in disbelief. Then he turned to Orion, who was looking rather lost and helpless.
“What’s your name, elf boy?” the king asked.
“Orion,” the boy answered.
“Well, Orion,” the king said rather haughtily, “there’s no point in you staying here but for now you’ll have to wait in a cage until Fumblekins finds your family to tell them you’re here. And as for you: really!” the king said, staring down at Fumblekins in a very stroppy way.
“I’m sorry, master,” Fumblekins replied, his feathers all ruffled and wet. “The sky was all misty and rainy up there. I couldn’t see anything.”
“Oh really! What’s done is done, Fumblekins. We have to work out what to do. The thing is, I’m going to look very stupid now and it’s all your fault. Take the elf boy to one of the hobgoblins’ cages. Leave the door wide open so the youngster can come and go as he pleases. Lay soft bedding on the floor and make sure the guard gives him food and drink while we plan how to get out of this mess! After this you must fly to Cloakwood Forest and tell the elves their lost one is here, in the Dark Forest.”
Orion was listening carefully. He felt mighty relieved the fultures had no intention of harming him. Fumblekins reached out a wing to hold Orion’s hand, and gently led him to a big wooden cage that was normally used for naughty hobgoblins.

Once inside the cage in the Dark Forest, Orion snuggled down into the soft blanket that lay on a thick bed of hay. He was sure thankful to be back on solid ground again, and soon he was falling asleep. Just as he was closing his eyes Orion noticed a shiny buckle lit up by the moonlight.
He sat bolt upright. This wasn’t just any buckle. This was his cloak buckle! The cloak had been roughly bunched up as a pillow by the creature that lay snoring in the cage beside him. A large head with a glistening gold earring was lying on the cloak.
“Crazy coconuts ... my cloak!” Orion whispered to himself in shock. Quietly he pulled the peg from the door lock while the snorting and snuffling continued from inside. These were the familiar sounds of a hobgoblin. Orion crept over the bed of hay and took hold of his cloak. Gently, he started tugging it away from beneath the ugly green head that lay on it. Angry eyes suddenly opened wide, glaring wildly at the elf. Oh no! Orion had clumsily grabbed hold of the hobgoblin’s earring by accident! Orion froze as the small but sturdy creature lurched past him, through the open door, landing with a heavy thud on the ground outside. A drop of blue blood fell from a rather sore-looking ear – the creature looked furious. What was it going to do now?
The hobgoblin looked down to his side and noticed a stack of sharp knives. They were lying on some plates that sat next to a big bowl of fish pie, left there by the fultures. Orion stared at the scary sight that lay in front of him. The big beast reached down towards the knives. Orion’s eyes widened with fear, but to his surprise the hobgoblin picked up the bowl and sank his fat face right into it! After a few seconds of slurping and grunting, his face emerged, covered in fish pie.
“Hobgoblin! You were supposed to have washed those dishes up hours ago. Now look at the mess you’ve made!” A lovely-looking fulture had flown into the clearing.
A guilty expression spread across the hobgoblin’s mucky face.
“Sowwee,” he said, as he wandered back to his cage. Once inside, he popped the peg back into the lock and plonked himself down, falling straight back to sleep as if nothing had happened. Orion returned to the other cage where the friendly-looking bird passed a tray of food to Orion.
“Thanks for the soup, my friend. It tastes good! What’s your name?” Orion asked.
“My name’s Alanisoar,” the fulture half smiled. “My parents called me Alanisoar because I fly higher than the other fultures.”
“Wow. That’s amazing! That’s awesome!” Orion said. “You seem sad to me, Alanisoar,” he continued. “When we elves feel sad we share our feelings with each other or we go and talk to the Calm Tree. What do you fultures do when you need help?”
Alanisoar looked down at her shiny black talons.
“Well,” she mumbled quietly, feeling a little uneasy, “I don’t feel I can talk to my mum and dad. I don’t want them to worry about me. I was the eldest after all ...” Her little voice drifted away into empty space.
“Every elf, fulture, bird, tree ... we’re all a part of each other. All creatures need to share the good and the bad things that happen in our lives. Maybe I can help?” offered Orion, with a smile.

“Not long ago,” the fulture responded, “my younger brother flew out as usual with the other fultures, to find the baddest hobgoblin: Clutterbore. When he returned later that day, he was tired and pale. Mum gave him some food and sent him straight to his nest to rest. She thought that if he went to bed early that evening he would be better by the morning. But instead, he became a little more tired each day until he couldn’t even eat his favourite seeds anymore. Every day I’d try and help him get better. I’d bring him special seeds from the trees near the Self Sea. I’d sing to him and tell him funny stories. Mum said he had something called a disease which meant that he wasn’t going to get well again. Every morning before I went to flying school I would kiss his beak and pray to the sun, moon, earth and sky to make him better, but every day when I came home he was weaker. One day I came home and his eyes were closed and Mum said his eyes weren’t ever going to open again, and she cried and cried and she still cries and cries. I don’t fly high anymore. I stay down below the lines of the clouds. It doesn’t seem fair to my brother for me to be flying high when he can’t fly at all.”
It was evening now and the golden sunshine lit up her feathered collar. Orion got the idea that Alanisoar probably hadn’t met anyone that she could share her story with until now.
Orion told her all about his own brother and how sad he had been feeling about his death. He told her about his visit to the Calm Tree with Rosador, and how the Calm Tree had helped him.
Alanisoar breathed deeply and smiled.
“Thanks for listening to me, Orion the elf. I hope you come back and visit us sometime.”
Just in that moment, Orion could hear familiar voices.
“Now, there’s only one place ’e can be.”
Orion looked up at the sky. Yippee! He could hear his very own dad’s voice.
“Yes?” Impatient voices were calling back across the airwaves.
“Only one place.”
“For goodness sake, Origor, where is that place?” Rosador’s dad was calling out.
“Here!” Origor called back, his cloak fluttering behind him. He was already swooping down towards his son in the clearing below.
Orion leapt up, laughing and giggling with delight to see his dad. Rosador and Dannyor, her father, were with him.
As they hugged each other with joy, the Fulture King strutted towards them.
He waved his wings majestically around him, trying to look important. His spectacles were dangling precariously on the end of his beak.
“Now then! Welcome everyone! I’m glad Fumblekins reached you safely to let you know that Orion is safe here in the Dark Forest with us. I’d like you all to stay for tea. I wish to show you some special dances we’ve made up,” he said, one claw pushing his crown back up onto his head again, it having slipped over his eyes.
The elves were desperately trying not to laugh. They were taking deep breaths and trying not to look directly at him. Once those elves start giggling, there’s no stopping them!
“Urhum, urr, now then, where’s Fumblekins? I want him to start the dancing ... where is he? I thought he was with you lot?” Fulture King asked the group.
“Oh no,” Orion’s dad said. “One of the owls guided us here. We haven’t seen any fultures anywhere.”
“You mean it wasn’t Fumblekins who told you Orion was here?” the king asked incredulously.
“No. The thrush told us to come here,” Rosador answered.
“Oh, Fumblekins!” Fulture King exclaimed in exasperation. “Where has he lost himself this time?”
Soon, all the elves and fultures were flying back towards Cloakwood Forest, the land of the elves, on their adventure in search of Fumblekins, who had got lost on his journey there.

Tonight, imagine they are all flying into your dreams. The elves of Cloakwood Forest are sending you waves of warm energy to make sure you have happy dreams. They are giving you lots of strength to help you feel self-confident. Oh, and they’ve just asked me to remind you to love yourself as the shining star you are!
Sleep tight and Night Knight. TM

ooOoo