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Once upon a time, long ago, there was a young girl named Ernylee who loved faeries. For as long as she could remember, they had been her friends.

Together, they played hide-and-seek in flower-filled meadows and pretended to be princesses and pirates. They went on scavenger hunts and danced to mystical music played on wonderfully strange instruments. To Ernylee, there was nothing unusual about any of it. Her tiny friends had always been part of her world.

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When she began school, she talked about her faery friends with the other children. They laughed. Everyone knew there was no such thing as faeries.

But Ernylee knew where to find them. She still visited the meadows and the tall forests that smelled like Christmas, and there she talked and laughed with the friends she loved. In time, she learned to keep those visits to herself. She stopped telling even her family about the faeries, afraid they would make fun of her or think she was being childish.

As she grew older, she sometimes wondered whether she was blessed or simply imagining what the rest of the world could not see. Still, whenever she returned to the faeries, their welcome was as warm as ever.

Then came marriage, children, and the responsibilities of an ordinary life. There was always something that needed doing. Her visits grew fewer, until the paths to the faery kingdom became paths she remembered rather than paths she walked.

In the last week of August 1997, her friends came to find her.

It was late at night when the faeries of Morandella appeared. Ernylee was delighted to see them, but their frightened faces told her that this was no social visit.

A dragon had come to their kingdom.

He burned the forests and fields, destroyed their homes, and drove the faeries from the places they loved. They had tried to stop him, but their magic was not strong enough. Now they had come to ask Ernylee for help.

She could not imagine what she could do against a dragon. Yet these were her friends, and Morandella was the land that had filled her childhood with wonder. She agreed to return with them.

What she found broke her heart.

The forests where she had once played were blackened and silent. The meadows were covered in ash. Faery homes had been destroyed, and many of their inhabitants had fled the kingdom in fear.

Queen Lorinda, Ernylee’s dear friend, led her to the shore of a crystal-blue lake in the heart of Morandella. In its center stood the Great Island, where Lorinda’s family had lived for centuries. Once a place of green gardens and flowers, it was now scorched and barren.

“The dragon has taken our island,” Lorinda said. “We cannot go home.”

“Where is King Glademus?” Ernylee asked.

Lorinda’s eyes filled with tears.

“The dragon has taken him from me.”

Ernylee put out her hand, and the little queen rested against it. Seeing Lorinda’s grief, she knew she could not turn away.

The dragon’s name was Flambeauay. He lived in a cave high on the island’s hill. He stood thirty feet tall, with wings that stretched fifty feet from tip to tip. Worse still, he had two heads, and both could breathe fire.

The faeries had sought help wherever they could. They would not ask their human child friends to face such a creature, and the other grownups no longer believed in faeries.

Ernylee was their only hope.

She was terrified.

“I don’t know how to fight a dragon,” she told Lorinda.

“We will help you,” the queen replied. “You will not face him alone.”

The faeries gathered and pledged their support. Each contributed a little magic faery dust. Ernylee tore a piece from her black shirt, gathered the glittering grains inside it, and tied the corners together to make a small pouch.

Then Lorinda lifted a blackened branch and transformed it into a mighty jeweled sword. Near its handle, set into the blade, was a heart-shaped blue topaz. Its clear blue depths reminded Ernylee of the lake before her.

Next, Lorinda took a maple leaf and turned it into a shield that gleamed like pure gold.

“The shield will protect you from his flames,” she said. “The sword holds great power. Believe in yourself, Ernylee, and believe in your friends.”

Ernylee accepted the gifts. Her hands trembled as she held them.

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Over the following days, she watched the island from the lakeshore. At night, she sheltered in an abandoned animal burrow and listened for the beating of great wings.

Flambeauay always emerged after dark. He swept over Morandella, breathing fire from one head while the other watched for anyone who might challenge him. In daylight, he remained inside his cave.

Ernylee began to make a plan.

If she could reach the island while the dragon slept, perhaps she could climb to his cave before he took flight. She gathered reeds and fallen logs and bound them together into a raft. Branches laid across it would conceal her as she crossed the water.

Days became weeks. Each night brought more destruction. Ernylee searched for some weakness in the dragon, but he seemed invincible.

Every day she met with Lorinda and the faeries to prepare. They discussed the crossing, the climb, and how they would protect one another if the dragon woke.

Lorinda insisted that they make the journey on October 30.

By then, everything had to be ready.

In the early morning hours of October 30, Ernylee pushed the raft away from shore. Lorinda settled on her shoulder, and a small band of faeries accompanied them.

The lake was still. Beneath the covering branches, Ernylee held her breath whenever a shadow moved across the water. But no dragon appeared, and the raft reached the island safely.

At the shore, she picked up her sword and shield and looked toward the cave.

“I will stay with you,” Lorinda promised. “Through all of it.”

They began the climb.

The faeries flew ahead to scout while Ernylee made her way over the burned ground. The hillside was steeper than she had expected. Fallen trees blocked the old paths, and loose stones made each step uncertain. Several times, the scouts asked her to wait while they checked the way ahead. She stopped often to catch her breath, then forced herself onward.

As the sun moved toward the western horizon, her fear grew. She had hoped to reach Flambeauay while he slept. Now daylight was slipping away.

The scouts returned.

“He is awake,” they reported. “He is moving inside the cave.”

Ernylee looked around for somewhere to hide.

Lorinda touched her cheek.

“It is time.”

“I’m not ready.”

“The shield will protect you,” Lorinda said. “When he comes close, use the faery dust to blind him. Then lift your sword.”

Ernylee looked at the little queen and the faeries gathered around her. They had lost so much, and still they were trusting her.

She tightened her grip on the sword.

“All right,” she whispered.

The scouts led her to a patch of level ground where she could stand without slipping. There she ate a little of the food she had brought while the faeries rested beside her.

Darkness settled over the island. A full moon rose above the lake, and stars glittered overhead.

Then a roar shattered the stillness.

Flambeauay burst from his cave and took flight. His wings beat against the night air as he began circling the kingdom. Fire streamed from one mouth, lighting the ruined hillside.

Soon he noticed the figures on his island.

He turned.

Ernylee saw both heads swing toward her. The dragon swooped down, and a rush of flame filled the air.

She raised the shield.

The force struck so hard that she staggered, but the gold held firm. No heat reached her. Lorinda had been right.

“The faery dust,” the queen whispered.

“I can’t hold the shield, the sword, and the dust all at once!”

The other faeries gathered beneath the shield. Together, using their strength and magic, they steadied it while Ernylee released her grip.

With the sword in one hand, she pulled the black pouch from her waistband with the other. She loosened its tie and poured a handful of sparkling dust into her palm.

“Wait for my signal,” Lorinda said.

Above them, Flambeauay circled once more. Then he folded his wings and plunged toward the little group.

“Are you ready?” Lorinda asked.

“I’m so scared.”

“I am here,” Lorinda whispered.

The dragon’s two heads came closer.

“Now!”

The faeries lowered the shield.

Ernylee flung the dust into the dragon’s eyes. It struck one head, which recoiled with a furious cry. But the other kept coming, its eyes blazing.

Its mouth opened. It drew a great breath.

Ernylee lifted the sword.

For one strange moment, everything seemed to slow.

The blue topaz heart caught the light of the full moon. A brilliant beam flashed from the jewel, and Ernylee turned the blade toward the dragon’s second head, hoping to blind it before the fire came.

The light struck his eye.

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Flambeauay gave an earth-shattering scream.

His wings faltered. His enormous body crashed to the ground, shaking the island beneath Ernylee’s feet.

She stood motionless, the sword still raised.

Then the dragon began to shrink.

His great wings folded inward. His body grew smaller and smaller as Lorinda and the faeries flew above him. Ernylee lowered her sword and stepped closer, afraid to believe what she was seeing.

Where Flambeauay had fallen, a small figure lay on the ground.

He stirred, lifted his head, and spread a pair of delicate faery wings.

“Glademus!” Lorinda cried.

She flew to him as he struggled to his feet. They held each other tightly, and the faeries’ cries of fear became cries of joy.

All around Ernylee, tiny lanterns appeared. Hundreds of faeries flew toward the island, filling the night with light.

Then the earth gave a gentle shudder.

Green leaves unfolded on the charred trees. Vines rose from the ashes, and flowers opened across the scorched ground. The faeries’ destroyed homes reappeared, whole and beautiful once more. Gardens returned, woodland paths emerged, and the island filled with the scent of growing things.

Across the lake, Morandella was being restored.

Ernylee sank to the ground. She could only watch as the kingdom she remembered came back to life.

At last, Glademus and Lorinda came to her.

“I don’t understand,” Ernylee said. “The dragon—”

“Was Glademus,” Lorinda answered.

She explained that an evil witch had entered Morandella months before. The witch had captured faeries and stolen their magic dust, intending to use their own power to take over the kingdom.

The faeries united against her and freed their captured friends. They drove the witch from Morandella, but as she was being banished, she cast a terrible spell on the king.

Glademus became Flambeauay, and the dragon turned upon the land he had once protected.

Although the faeries had expelled the witch, they could not undo her final spell.

“We discovered how it could be broken,” Lorinda said. “But our magic alone could not do it. We needed an adult human who believed in us and would willingly risk her life to save our kingdom.”

Ernylee looked down at the sword across her knees.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Lorinda’s voice softened.

“Because if you knew the dragon was only a spell cast upon Glademus, the spell could not be broken. You had to face him without that knowledge. You had to choose to help us while believing you might lose your life.”

The queen rested a hand on Ernylee’s finger.

“I could not tell you the truth, even when I saw how frightened you were. That was the hardest thing I have ever had to do.”

“And the jewel?” Ernylee asked.

“The topaz heart had to reflect the light of a full moon into the dragon’s eye,” Lorinda explained. “That is why we had to come tonight. Your courage brought you here. The moonlight completed the magic.”

Ernylee was silent for a moment. Then she looked at Glademus, safe beside his queen, and understood why Lorinda had kept the secret. She gazed at the gardens blooming around them.

She had come prepared to fight a monster. Instead, she had helped bring her friend home.

That night, the king and queen called for a great feast on the royal castle grounds. Hundreds of faeries gathered around Ernylee and, with their combined magic, lifted her into the air. They carried her over the renewed gardens to the celebration.

Music floated through the trees. Tables were filled with wonderful food, and the air smelled of flowers and honey. Faeries danced among the lanterns, laughing and singing as they welcomed one another home.

Ernylee watched them with a heart full of happiness. The friends she had feared losing were safe, and Morandella was beautiful again.

After much celebration, King Glademus and Queen Lorinda asked for everyone’s attention.

In gratitude for saving the king and their kingdom, they announced that Ernylee would be given a kingdom of her own: the kingdom that had once been ruled by the banished witch. The people of that land were now free of the witch’s rule. They had heard of Ernylee’s courage and kindness and wished to welcome her as their queen.

The faeries cheered.

Before Ernylee could find words to answer, they gathered around her once more and lifted her into the sky.

They flew northward to a great island continent surrounded by islands of various sizes. Beneath the moonlight, Ernylee could see forests, hills, and shining stretches of water. The faeries carried her around the shores so she could take in the beauty of the land entrusted to her.

She could scarcely believe it was hers.

On November 26, 1997, Ernylee was crowned queen of the new land.

At her coronation, the faeries presented Her Majesty with the Scepter of Light and the Crown of Honor. With their blessing, she gave her kingdom a new name, Bellelealand.

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Queen Ernylee has established order in her new kingdom and started meeting with the people of the land.  She promised them to be a kind and just Queen. She established new dukedoms, counties, baronies in the land.  She has awarded noble titles to worthy citizens of Bellelealand and friends that have helped her bring the kingdom to life.   It is her wish that Bellelealand be a land of friendship and love, happiness and joy.