Scotland’s Fairies | Isla & The Fairy Queen - Story 2 (Sleep Story)

This is a guided sleep story from Scotland and the second installment of the story of Isla, a wee girl with the gift of fairy sight who has proven to the fairies that she should be granted access to the fairy palace of Elfenhame. This is a gentle story for all ages written by Rachael Corral and with Celtic-inspired background music by Chris Collins.

Transcript

Hello,

My name is Rachel.

My country is Scotland,

A country steeped in fairy faith,

A place of mythical valleys,

Fairy glens and fairy pools and logs,

And ancient Caledonian pine forests,

Where fairies,

Or we folk,

Can be found in the tree hollows and abandoned birds' nests,

In the rivers and barns which flow through the mountainous valleys.

There are river sprites with webbed feet,

Who ride on the back of the leaping Scottish salmon,

Tucked away inside unused teapots and empty shortbread tins.

We folk,

Called brownies,

A sort of house fairy,

Live amongst the Scottish people,

Inside their very homes,

Although most people never look close enough in the nooks and crannies to ever spot them.

Now I'm guessing you might like to join me on an adventure here in Scotland and hear more about these mystical we folk,

Guardians of our hills,

Forests and homes.

So get comfortable,

Maybe have a little wiggle of fingers and toes,

Take a deep breath in to fill your chest full of air,

And a deep breath out again to relax your body down into whichever the spot you might be sitting or lying in.

Gently close your eyes and come with me to Scotland.

If you listen to our last story about Isla,

A wee Scottish girl of eight with red hair and a face full of fern tickles or freckles as you might know them.

When we last met Isla,

She had been set a series of challenges by the fairies,

Or we folk,

And her last clue hinted that she was to visit the loch as day gave way to night to meet the fairies.

So in this story,

We return to Isla again as she walks back to her little house called Tyne-y-Cal,

Wondering how she will return to the loch as night falls.

As Isla gets back to her house,

She realizes that it's tea time.

She had lost all track of time finding the fairy scrolls.

She helped her mum set the table while her mind buzzed with everything that she had seen that day.

Isla's mum,

Noticing that she was quiet and quite distracted,

Asked if she was okay.

You look a wee bit peely-wally,

She said,

As Isla pushed her food around her plate with her fork,

Hardly eating a thing.

Isla watched out of the window as the sun was beginning to drop in the sky.

Gloaming time,

Her dusk was nearly here.

After dinner,

Her mum suggested she get into her nightie and have a wee coorie up by the fire to feel better.

In the evenings,

Isla would usually sit practicing her finger knitting and listening to the crackling fire and the click-clack of her mum's knitting needles as she wove the wool over and under her mum's head.

She wove the wool over and under her fingers,

Chatting away to her mum.

But as she sat down with her length of wool,

She suddenly realized that she had left her cardie out by the loch.

Mum,

I've left my cardie,

Can I go back out and fetch it?

It's not quite dark yet.

Oh,

It's a bit nippy out,

Said Isla's mum.

But I suppose if you put on your dressing gown and you're just out a wee minutie and head straight back,

Then you can go.

Isla gave a quick kiss to her mum's cheek and toddled off to get her dressing gown,

Quickly putting a torch in its pocket and slipping on her sheepskin slippers.

I'll be back soon,

She called her mum as she headed out the door.

She was glad to have an excuse to head back out.

She wasn't the type of girl to tell a fib or a lie to her mother.

So this was perfect.

She'd get her cardie and then she'd have a quick look at the loch's edge and see if there was anything magic to be found.

It was around 8pm and still dusk.

It was June in Scotland and the days were beginning to stretch.

Not long until summer solstice,

When the Northern Hemisphere,

Where Isla lived,

Would be at its maximum tilt towards the sun,

Thus giving the longest period of daylight and the shortest night of the year.

Isla thought dusk was a magical time.

It comes with the promise of stars and moonlight.

It's when the birds sing goodnight and the last of the sun's rays kiss the Scottish hills and glens.

As Isla walked past the forest,

The trees had hidden their bold greens,

Becoming more like silhouettes and the hustle and bustle of the forest floor had quietened down,

Almost being melted away in the shadows.

Isla found her cardie but continued on towards the loch,

The uneven pebbles crunching and creaking as she walked over them,

Getting ever closer to the water's edge.

Her ears were pricked and she was scanning around her.

Her eyes were darting around,

Trying to make out the shapes around her but it was becoming increasingly difficult as the shades of orange and red that had initially permeated the sky had almost disappeared as the atmosphere no longer reflected the sun's light.

As the sun moved more and more degrees below the horizon,

Distinguishing the land from the loch became more and more difficult for Isla.

She was about to reach for the torch in her pocket until the celestial magic began and the sky revealed more stars and constellations than Isla had ever seen.

She looked up at the blanket of stars that seemed to stretch to infinity.

They were glittering and gleaming but even more impressive was the full moon which seemed to have reached its peak illumination and was touching the earth around Isla with a dream-like luminosity.

The pebbles around her feet seemed to take on a celestial glow as she walked more towards the water's edge and gazed across the loch.

The moon,

Almost seemed to become one with the water,

Was almost glimmering and dancing like a magic paintbrush had first been dipped into the moon's milky glowing liquid and then mixed with the inky water of the loch.

The moon seemed to cast a mirrored line across the water from Isla's feet at the water's edge to a tiny tree-filled island in the centre of the loch.

As Isla stared at this mirrored beam of light across the water,

The water almost looked as if it was beginning to bubble and she heard an unusual sound,

Almost like an intangible and ethereal humming and the water began to lap much more quickly against the pebbles at her feet.

She began to become aware of something moving towards her at the surface of this beam of moonlight.

It was almost splicing the sparkling,

Bubbling reflection in two.

Isla blinked to try and adjust her eyes to what she was seeing on the water.

Was it a broken tree branch or the dark body of an otter?

But that would not explain the twinkling lights that Isla was now also seeing,

Like tiny fireflies lighting the way of this mysterious object.

When the object was about ten metres away,

Isla pushed off her slippers,

Felt the uneven,

Bumpy,

Smooth and slightly jagged pebbles and the icy water against her toes.

She hitched up her nightie and started to walk further into the lapping water until it was halfway up her shins.

She felt a force drawing her towards the object and the enchanting hum and bubbling sound.

It was then that she came to comprehend what it was in front of her.

It was no broken twig or log,

But in fact a beautifully carved,

Tiny wooden boat with leaf sails and garlands of flowers from bough to stern.

And these pink,

Purple and yellow flowers were also woven up the mast and it was lit up by twinkling lanterns.

Hanging from the head,

It was pulled along by two sparkling pink salmon attached to the bow by shimmering silver threads on the deck of the boat were three tiny,

Glossy humans with glowing wings about the size of an older child's hand.

Isla was transfixed on these tiny human figures,

Not sure if they could be real or not.

And then the boat stopped in the water just in front of her and one of the figures took flight,

Fluttering,

Glowing and darting upwards with a speed that Isla's eyes could barely keep up with.

Then the tiny figure hovered in the air in front of her,

Almost translucent in the moonlight.

Isla then heard her speak,

Though it was unusual as the words seemed to emanate from the water,

From the sky,

From the moon itself,

From every element of nature.

The voice was both soft and strong,

Resonant and a whisper,

A voice like Isla had never heard the like of.

The voice said,

Isla,

My name is Morven,

The Queen of the Scottish Fey.

I am here to invite you to the Elfheim,

Our fairy palace.

You will be very safe with us and we will return you home without any time having passed.

Would you like to come with us,

Isla?

Isla,

Too shocked to speak,

But so desperately keen to go with the fairies,

Gave a firm nod of her head.

Morven then said,

Isla,

Look up at the moon,

Focus your mind on its shadowy,

Milky glow and then close your eyes and keep that image of the moon strong in your vision.

Do not let it shift or waver in your mind's eye and without opening your eyes,

Extend out your hand for me to touch it.

Isla felt the most pleasant,

Engulfing warmth that started from the touch at the end of her finger before spreading through her whole body.

She felt like she was suspended in a glowing orb of light,

A bit like she had become one with the moon itself.

Before hearing the voice again,

It was Morven.

She said,

Isla,

Open your eyes.

Now,

Isla was no longer standing in the cold of the log,

But was,

In fact,

On the deck of the tiny boat,

The same size as the fairy folk,

With Morven holding her hand as they moved at surprising speed,

Pulled along,

Examined towards the island in the centre of the log,

Known as Elfheim,

The fairy palace.

Now,

I hope you feel relaxed and at peace and are ready to drift off into a beautiful sleep,

Imagining what Isla will get up to in the fairy palace.

In the fairy palace.

Please join me next time when we find out.

Good night.

Reviews

Thank you for taking me on these beautiful magical journeys into the peace of sleep. Your gentle tones in telling the tales sooth the mind and soul into a safe place.

Great story. Thank you.

What a sweet series and a lovely voice. Thank you for sharing your talent with us all.

💜🧚🏻🫖so lovely. Your stores are the best! Thank you and Blessings💜

Lovely gentle voice. I didn’t hear the end of the story. I love the Scottish accent. Thank you.

Fabulous story. Your voice is so relaxing and calming. Keep on writing these wonderful stories.

Thank you Rachael for another lovely story. So calming and relaxing. Eagerly Looking forward to the next one! 🙏