(no subject)
The tiny village of Rinne had not been the same since The Great White engulfed it. For months, the usually colourful township had been blanketed in layers and layers of powdery white snow which seemed like it was never going to melt. When it first began, everyone thought it was great fun. The people of the village bundled themselves up in their warmest coats, scarves, gloves and hats and rushed outside to enjoy this frozen novelty. They built snowmen and snowwomen and all kinds of snow animals to accompany them. They built igloos and forts and had snowball fights that lasted for hours. They laboriously trekked to the top of the vast hills and sailed down again on tea trays in place of toboggans and when they day was done, they returned to their cottages and huddled in front of an open fire with hot homemade soup and soft bread, chatting happily about the fun they had had in this new, exciting winter wonderland.
However, as the weeks went by, the novelty of the snow began to wear off. The snow became too littered with footprints to be any fun to run about in. The townspeople could no longer be bothered to trudge to the top of the hills for tobogganing. In fact, walking anywhere became a trek. There was nothing to do and most people decided it was much better just to stay inside away from the cold. Some wouldn’t even leave the comfort of their quilts and preferred to stay in bed. The snowmen and snowwomen and all of their pets had their coal eyes and carrot noses plucked out by bored delinquents. Some of the unfortunate snow creatures even lost their heads to vandals with sticks. The previously powdery blanket of snow turned to rigid ice. The roofs of the cottages became decorated with sinister icicles like giant teeth and the air became tainted with a bitter wind as sharp as a shark’s bite. The villagers grimly referred to the season as The Great White and longed for an end to it. No one knew why this spell of icy weather had befallen them, although there were many theories. The priests of the village suspected that they had angered the Goddess of Spring by picking too many flowers and cutting down too many trees when they were in full bloom. A large portion of the village decided it was a sign that the end of the world was nearing, while a small group of elderly women simply saw it as nature’s way of telling the younger generation not to wear such revealing clothing. Some even wondered if this was karma for not spending enough time at home with their families and some were adamant that the village had been cursed and that the weather could only be amended with a spell.
The Great White certainly showed no signs of lifting of its own accord. The snow and ice stayed solid well into the months that were supposed to be spring. The townspeople grew miserable and reclusive and started to worry about how long their stores of food would last. Even the snow creatures had lost all their enthusiasm and stood rigid and stern like an arctic army, a grim reminder of the gloomy months.
However, being stuck in ones house is not without its merit. In the deepest part of the village, a young girl called Isobel was sorting through her cluttered attic. She and her family had lived in the house for years and years. In fact, some of the objects in the attic looked as if they might have belonged to her great grandparents. She began to set aside the bits and pieces she thought would be, if not useful, decorative. So far she had collected an elegant peacock feather quill, a pretty cameo broach, a small glass statue of a swan, a string of freshwater pearls and a wind-up musical jewellery box with a tiny ballerina doll inside who twirled in time to the music (or would have, had the box not been broken). She was using its lid to admire her reflection (adorned with the newly discovered beads) when she saw something glinting out of the corner of her eye. The tiny amount of light coming from the window projected itself into one of the boxes that lay stacked in the attic, reflecting off an ornate brass teapot.
“How beautiful!” cried Isobel, dropping the jewellery box and reaching to retrieve this new treasure. It was pleasantly plump with a dainty spout and pointed lid which its handle arched over like the roof of an Indian temple. Although only made of brass, it shone gloriously in the dim room, as if it was made of a precious metal and although it must have been quite old, it looked polished and clean as if new. Isobel admired it for a few minutes before deciding that she had done enough treasure hunting for the day and would treat herself to a piece of home-made carrot cake. She set the teapot down with the rest of her treasures and started to climb the ladder down to the main room. It was then that she realised what an absolute mess she had made. In the act of going through the attic, she had sent dozens of unwanted objects flying down the ladder into the floor below. She knew her parents would be very angry if they saw the chaos when they returned from the truffle mines and so decided to embark on an epic tidying task…after a little break , of course. “Forget cake” she sighed “What I need is a pot of tea!”
Seizing the chance to play with one of her newly discovered possessions, she climbed back up and grabbed the shimmering teapot, skipped to the kitchen and filled a little copper kettle with water. She set it down on the stove to boil and ventured into the pantry in which lay a large collection of different teas. Although her family often worried about not having enough food to last the seemingly eternal winter, they often joked about never running out of tea, even if they wanted to. After contemplating every single variety the pantry had to offer, Isobel eventually decided on jasmine tea as she felt the fragrant flavour would perk her up a bit before the tidying began. As she heard the whistle of the kettle, she plucked the box of tealeaves from the shelf and carried it to the stove. Without even bothering to give it a wash, she filled the golden teapot with boiling water and scattered the tealeaves in. She let it brew for a bit and turned to get a cup from the cupboard. She wasn’t expecting the sight that would greet her when she turned back.
Hovering over the spout of the teapot was a small cloud of steam. However, this was not an ordinary steam cloud. It was not grey but silver and instead of being the usual blobby shape, it had three points - two upturned like little hands and one dome-shaped like a head. It even appeared to have a face with a serene smile.
Isobel stared and stared at the creature, sure it was her imagination. She pressed her face right up against it, feeling the condensation on her nose and blinking wildly to check this wasn’t all a dream. It blinked back and Isobel reeled backwards, steadying herself on the kitchen counter.
“Don’t be alarmed!” The thing said in the calmest voice she had ever heard “I am only a Steam Spirit”
“I’m sorry?” said Isobel. She’d never heard of one of those before “A what?”
“A Steam Spirit!” it replied “I have been trapped in the attic for many years just waiting for someone to brew tea in my teapot and let me out. Thank you very much!”
“Oh…You’re welcome”
“For performing such a kind deed, I will grant you as many wishes as you want. But steam spirits are not the most powerful of spirits. In order to obtain what you desire you will have to brew tea in the teapot to give me the energy to work my magic. Of course, different teas have different magical properties. I see you’ve brewed some jasmine, which helps me with cleaning spells. Will that be any use?”
Isobel was shocked and delighted. As many wishes as she wanted? Oh, the possibilities! She would never be bored again! But first she had to deal with the mess.
“Yes” she said. “Yes it would. You see, while I was digging you and your teapot out of the attic, I caused a terrible clutter. Would you be able to fix that with your cleaning spell?”
The Steam Spirit nodded its translucent head and clapped its ghostly hands together. Suddenly the entire house was filled with silvery steam and, with a sound like a melodious bell, was gone again. Isobel inspected the results to see that not only the attic was tidy but the entire house! The beds lay neatly made in the bedrooms and the pots and pans in the kitchen were now in orderly stacks instead of their usual disarray.
“Thank you, wonderful Steam Spirit!” she cried, picking up the teapot.
***
Over the next few days, Isobel took great delight in trying all the different teas in the pantry out on the Steam Spirit. She discovered that Assam tea turned her bed into a bouncy castle for the day and that Oolong provided her with an enormous shelf of adventure books to read. White tea put a fabulous feast on the table and green grew a garland of flowers around her bedroom window.
She was currently gazing at the results of the peppermint tea; a wardrobe full of pretty dresses in all the colours of the rainbow. Twirling around in an indigo number, she looked in the mirror and sighed.
“These are so lovely, Steam Spirit. If only I could wear them outside without them being hidden under a coat all the time. I wish you could get rid of the snow, I miss the sun and the grass and the flowers so much!”
“Well, I might be able to help you with that” said the Steam Spirit, popping out of it’s golden teapot “But of course I will need your help and it won’t be easy”
“What shall I do?” Isobel’s eyes widened at the very idea of it being springtime again.
“You will need to brew some tea brewed with the leaves of the Aune plant”
“Where will I find that? I’ve never even heard of it?”
“You’re in luck” said the spirit “The Aune plant is native to your village. However, there is only one place it grows in and it is very dangerous. We will have to go into the forest of Rinne and retrieve it from the cave across the lake”
“The lake? But that’s where the water serpent lives! He’ll eat me alive!”
“Not if I can help it” reassured the Steam Spirit “We will go together. Take the teapot with you and be sure to pack lots of chai and camomile tea”.
***
The next morning, Isobel and the Steam Spirit set off on their quest for the Aune leaves. They made their way into the forest where the trees had long been coated with an icy shell, hiding away their greenery. They stood in their rows, ominously quiet as there were no birds or woodland animals swinging from their branches or nesting amongst their leaves. Isobel clutched the teapot tightly as she trudged through the snow in her leather boots.
When they arrived at the lake, they were not surprised to discover it was completely frozen solid. It had become a pool of solid crystal with a slippery surface that reflected everything above it.
“I can’t walk across that!” screamed Isobel “I’ll slip and fall!”
“Ah, that’s what the chai is for!” said the Steam Spirit in its usual peaceful tone, gesturing towards her coat pocket.
Isobel took out the tealeaves and dropped them into the pot. She then reached into her satchel and produced a flask which poured hot water on the tea. The Spirit closed its eyes momentarily and then pointed at her feet with its little hands, sending an impressive stream of steam curling around them. When the steam cleared, a glittering pair of ice skates appeared on Isobel’s feet instead of her worn out walking boots.
“They will guide you across the lake” said the spirit as he picked it up and they definitely did. Isobel had never skated before in her life yet with these skates she glided as easily as if she had been trained in the art. She was quite enjoying this newfound talent when it was time to walk on land again. As soon as she set foot on the ground, the skates had turned back into her ordinary shoes.
“The cave where the plant grows is through here” said the Steam Spirit, pointing to a little path obstructed by icy spiked bushes. Although they could not see him, it was obvious that Sigri the lake water serpent was lurking in there. They could here him groaning and hissing menacingly. Sigri had been having a nap in the cave when The Great White set in and as a result could not get back into the lake. He could survive on land but with the lake frozen over, he had not been able to catch any fish to eat. His immense hunger made him irritable and angry.
“Before we go in, brew the camomile” instructed the spirit.
Isobel did as she was told but nothing happened.
“You wait and see” said the Steam Spirit “It’ll come in handy in a minute”
They ventured through the frozen bracken to the cave entrance, Isobel still holding the teapot tightly to her chest. Grumpy Sigri was visible even from the entrance of the cave, his great scaly body writhing around and his giant teeth grinding with anticipation. When he saw the girl, he seized her with his slithery tail and dangled her in the air.
“At lassssssst!” he hissed “A proper meal! Well, as clossssse to a meal I’ll ever get sssince there are no tassssty fishies to dine on. Do you know long I’ve been waiting for ssssomething as scrumptioussss as a human to come along?”
He opened his mouth, ready to swallow her up but before he could do anything, Isobel poured the tea into his mouth and down his horrible throat. He spluttered a bit, dropping her to the ground and then suddenly fell asleep, his body hitting the ground with a thud. Isobel ran to the back of the cave, still carrying the teapot with the Steam Spirit inside. There was no mistaking it, growing there in the dark was the magical Aune plant, it’s leaves glowing as golden as the teapot inside the dark, dank cave.
“See, I told you it would come in handy!” said the spirit as Isobel plucked a handful of leaves from the dazzling vine.
A loud snore came from the direction of Sigri who was probably having a nice dream about an intense game of chase with a shoal of trout.
“Lets get out of here before he wakes up!” suggested Isobel and the two hurried out of the cave, across the lake (Isobel was delighted to discover that the ice skates appeared to help her once again) out of the forest and into the village.
When they were halfway home, Isobel decided she couldn’t wait any longer. There was just enough water in the flask for one brewing so she poured it into the pot with a single shimmering leaf from the Aune vine with great excitement. As it had done on the day it had first appeared, the Steam Spirit clapped its tiny hands together. This time, a cloud of silver steam engulfed the whole village. It was such as sight that people started to come out of their houses to see what was going on.
“I knew it! I knew it!” a man with a beard cried “It’s the end of the world! It’s all over!”
However, the fog swiftly lifted and when it was gone, the villagers were overjoyed to see that all the snow and ice had completely disappeared. The grass and the trees were as green as could be and flowers of every colour sprouted wherever possible. The sun was now beaming happily and the sky was no longer a cold grey but a cool blue. The people began to look more colourful too. Shedding their winter coats, coats, scarves, gloves and hats, they cheered with joy. It was finally springtime in Rinne and they couldn’t have been happier.