Sunday, March 01, 2020 4:51 PM
Life in the world of Magic was interesting. Don’t mistake me—with great power comes great danger—it was by no means a quiet life—but Magic gave life a depth which it no longer has. But we are humans. We used it all up—didn’t we?
Shall I tell you the story of the last Magic? We know its worldly interpretation: “Song of Bernadette” (1945 – Twentieth Century Fox). But others know it as the Final Chapter of The Saga of the Last Blue Fairy, a ceremonial chorus last sung round an oak tree in 2005.
No one expects Magic to return, at these gatherings. They are an amalgam of respect for the past and mourning for an irreplaceable loss. Is it healthy or not, to remember that the world once had a deeper dimension to it? To regret the human nature that led to its absence?
Still, one fascinating aspect of the chanting of the Saga is that final chapter. When the last Blue Fairy was very old, nearing her Transit, and barely visible in daylight, she sensed a pocket of Life-Water, just beneath the ground in Massabielle, France. Risking her life, she exposed herself to a human girl—who, luckily, mistook her for one of their gods. But she dug up the virgin spring, releasing the Life-Water, which was all that mattered.
It was the last bit of Magic on Earth—and the Lady-Fairy of the Blues felt it only right to have the Magic depart with her, the last of her species. The humans flocked to it, as humans always do. In less than a year, it was pure water, like any other spring. We, the descendants of their human servants, still keep alive the memory of the Old World, the world of Magic and Fairies (and ‘gods’). We gather round the Old Oak, the big one. We have a bonfire, we have a dance, we chant the chant, we drink the mead. And we dream of better times, times when the Earth’s soul was still inviolate.