As soon as Autumn entered the gates of the Mira Vale, she felt it: death clinging to the air, a foreshadowing hand waiting to take hold of its victims.  And Autumn knew that the Mira’s time—and Andy’s time—was short indeed.
        Not even the slightest breeze stirred as she made her way to the palace.  The proud Mira people lay strewn all over the grounds, where they had fallen unconscious as the disease had struck them.
        Autumn carried Andy to his room in the palace, and went back to carry as many others as she could into the palace as well.  She tended to them as best she could, but to no avail.
    
This was no ordinary plague.  This was black magic, her sister’s reply to Autumn’s wedding announcement.  Autumn sunk to her knees and sobbed.  How helpless she felt as they all lay about her, suffering and on the brink of death.  And there was nothing she could do for them.
        But wait!  Maybe there was something she could do.  She must go see her sister, the sister who despised Autumn’s betrothal to Andy, the Mira king.  The sister who loathed Autumn’s own Mira lineage, loathed the Mira people themselves.  The sister whose mother—Autumn’s stepmother—was a Scintillate, who had taught her pure Scintillate daughter to view the Mira as inferior, and to hate them.  So, although Autumn detested the thought of approaching her sister, she had to find a way to change her sister’s cruel heart in order to spare the Mira’s lives.
    
She prepared to leave.  As she rose to her feet with renewed hope and determination, she heard a voice softly call, “Autumn?”
        Andy!  She turned back.  Kneeling by his bed, she took his hand in hers.  “Yes, Andy.  I’m here.”  She forced a smile as the tears rushed to her eyes.
        “What’s going on?” he asked in a weak voice.  “I feel…so…tired.”
        “You’re sick, Andy.  All the Mira are sick, but I’m going to find a cure for you.”
        “And then we’ll be married?”
        As soon as he asked the question, a bright streak of red flashed in her mind’s eye, and with it, an ominous glimmer of doubt.  Yet she smiled reassuringly.  “Yes, then we’ll be married.”
        He gave her a thin smile and closed his eyes.  She kissed his forehead and slipped silently from the room.
    
She stopped outside the gates of the Vale.  How would she ever get to the Scintillate palace and back again in time to save them?  The fastest horse in the world would not get her there in time.  Unless…
        She felt her pocket and, offering a prayer of thanksgiving, Autumn withdrew from her cloak a silver flute.  It had been a gift from her mother, along with the gift of music.  She stood at the gate and played a smooth, clear melody.  It rippled along the waves of the wind, until the waves carried back to her ears the sound of a horse neighing.
        She ceased playing and looked up to see a dazzlingly white, silver-hoofed horse, galloping through the trees toward her.  The majestic horse glistened, a ray of hope as she approached Autumn.  Autumn smiled.  “Flashling!” she said to her mother’s pride.  She was a Zilchus, the fastest creature in the world.
        Autumn leapt onto the silken back of the horse and whispered into the creature’s ear, “To Iridescence, and may God grant us all speed.” 
        The horse was off like a streak of lightning.  The woods were a blur as they passed, as were the snatches of red and yellow still flashing through Autumn’s mind.  Her mother had also bestowed the gift of prophecy upon her daughter, and occasionally Autumn would see colors as well as shapes, half-visions that had not yet taken form.  What could they mean this time?
    
Within hours they emerged from the woods. Crystal Lake lay ahead.  Flashling did not hesitate; she flew right over the water, her silver, sparkling hooves glittering in the light.  Like all Zilchus that had come before her, her hooves possessed deep, mysterious powers, including those of amazing speed and flight.
        The Iridescence Palace loomed into view, not as a home to which Autumn was returning, but rather as an enemy’s fortress.  There was no turning back.  Autumn breathed a prayer as she prepared to face her sister.
    
“Someone is here to see you, my lady,” the guard announced as he entered Summer’s chambers and bowed his head.
        “Can’t you see I’m busy?”  She looked up from the letter she was writing and glared at him with disdain.
        “Forgive me, my lady, but it is your sister.  She claims it is urgent.”
        For a moment, Summer’s face displayed a slight sense of amusement, surprise almost.  Yet, it quickly returned to its icy, emotionless glaze.  “Well,” she said sharply, “don’t just stand there, fool, send her in!”
        “Yes, my lady.”  He backed away and closed the door.
        A malignant smirk crossed Summer’s face.  So, she thought, the fool has come to petition for her precious people.  Surely she must realize that I have the upper hand.
        There was a rap on the door.  Summer rose.  “Come in,” she said.
        Autumn entered, looking composed, save that her eyes revealed a tiny glint of fear.
        Summer could not resist another smirk.  Oh yes, she knows.
        “Welcome, sister. Please sit.”  
        “I don’t have time to sit,” Autumn said curtly, “as I believe you well know.”
        “Yes,” Summer replied with studied coolness.  “Guru told me you have an urgent message.” 
         “You know what message I bear, Summer,” Autumn said in retort.  “Tell me what you’ve done and how they can be cured.”
        “Very well then,” Summer said, her voice suddenly turning from cool to icy, her eyes flashing fire.  “Those people of yours can only be cured with the autumn leaf of their own wood.”
        “But it’s only Spring!  They won’t last for two seasons. They may not last for two more hours!  You know that.”
        “Yes, and you know that I will not recoil my curse for a small price.”
        “Name your price and I will pay it.”
        “You know what I want.”
    
They glared at each other, Summer’s eyes ablaze with hatred and heartlessness, Autumn trying not to let that gaze overpower her own determined stare.  Then those reds and yellows flashed in her mind again.  Suddenly she understood and knew what she must do.
        “Yes, I do know what you want.  You want the crown of my kingdom for yourself.”
        Summer did not reply, a prompt for Autumn to continue.
        “And, to get that, you must see me dead.”
        Silence.  Raising her head and taking a deep breath, Autumn said with conviction, “I will give my life in exchange for theirs.”
        “And how will you do this?”
        “A song.”
        “A song?”
        “Yes, you know well the gifts of music and magic that I have been blessed with.  I will compose a song that will allow me to exchange my life for theirs.”
        The smirk tugged at Summer’s lips for a long moment, but then the icy, cynical glare returned.  “And how can I know you will keep your word?  How do I know that you will not just go off and marry that filthy-blooded man, once the people have been healed?”
        “Because such songs are magical contracts, they cannot be broken,” Autumn said, her cautionary expression hinting of challenge.
        Summer saw the truth in Autumn’s eyes. “Then let it be as you have said.”  She nodded, a sign that Autumn was dismissed.
        Nodding in return, Autumn left the room.
    
Summer watched from her window as Autumn fled upon Flashling, back across Crystal Lake.  Soon I will be queen, and after that, nothing can stop me from sending the plague back to the Vale, or perhaps just destroying the Mira with one stroke of my black magic. What a fool Autumn is. What a fool, indeed.
    
As soon as Flashling’s hooves graced Mira land, Autumn began her song, though not on her flute.  Musical contracts must be sung by the

 one forging them; and so in her sweet, clear voice, she sang a song that echoed throughout the silver trees of the Mira Wood. The song reflected the beauty of the woods as well as the sadness that her heavy heart felt, for although she knew she had done the right thing—there were no worthy alternatives—it was the hardest choice she’d ever had to make.
        Finally, they reached the Vale and Autumn slipped off Flashling’s back. She looked up and saw it—the first red leaf, falling.  Already the song was taking effect: Autumn had come to the Mira.
        She grabbed the leaf and several others as they changed color, fluttering down about her.  Soon she’d filled her skirt to overflowing with the leaves, yet they continued to change and fall from the trees around her.
    
She rushed into the Vale and gave the leaves to the first woman she came upon, who was lying on the ground.  Just the scent seemed to revive her enough to chew and swallow the leaf.  Soon she was sitting up, wondering what had happened to her.  Autumn quickly explained that all the Mira were ill, and that she must get the leaves to them right away.  The woman was in awe that it was already Fall, but hurried to obey.
        In a short time many Mira were cured and rushing to help those still in need.  Autumn made her way to the palace, giving leaves to the servants and commanding them to heal those who remained.  Then Autumn ran to Andy’s room.
        How frail he was, barely clinging to life.  Yet he took the leaf and, as he slowly chewed, his eyes opened and he smiled at her. 
        No sooner had he swallowed than the color returned to his face.  “Autumn,” he said tenderly.  He sat up and embraced her. 
        “Oh!” she cried out.
        “What?  Did I hurt you?”
        “No.  I felt a sharp pain in my head.”  She smiled. “But it’s gone now.  It’s probably from all the worrying.  Come, let us heal the others.”
    
After everyone had been healed and welcomed back from their near-death experience, Autumn led Andy outside, where he stared in wonder at the turning of the leaves.  “Amazing,” he said, then suddenly saw that Autumn had become quite pale. 
        “Are you feeling ill?” he asked.
        “No, I’m fine,” she said, her tone belying the weakness she felt and the light that was vanishing from her eyes.  “Come, let us take a walk, so you can see how beautiful the wood is.”
    
As she led him through the Vale, the Mira cheered and waved, thanking her, telling her how glad they were to see the king up and well again.  Yet many noticed how pale Autumn had become, and cast each other concerned glances.
        “I still can’t believe your sister changed her mind,” Andy said as they strolled out of the wood and back toward the palace.  “What I really can’t get over is how it came to be autumn so quickly.  How…?”
        “Music,” Autumn replied, so weak he could barely hear her.  “A magic song.”
        “Amazing, wondrous,” Andy said, looking up at the trees.
    
Suddenly, Autumn collapsed, but Andy quickly caught her in his arms.  “What is it?  What’s wrong?  You’re so cold.”
        Autumn put her arms around his neck.  “Take me to the stream, Andy.”
        “No, we must get you back to the palace.  You must rest, or…the leaves!” he cried in panic.  “Eat some of the leaves!”
        Autumn cut him off.  “Andy, the leaves will do me no good.”
    
At first, he didn’t comprehend, but as he looked deep into her sad but loving eyes, he came to understand.  He wanted to scold her, ask her why she had done this.  Yet he already knew the answer.  She loved the Mira people and she especially loved him, with a love so deep she was willing to sacrifice all to save them.
        With tears in his eyes, he gently carried her to her favorite stream and sat beneath one of the changing trees, holding her in his arms.  As King, he was supposed to be strong, but he couldn’t stop the tears from flowing.
        “Shh,” she whispered.  As her breathing became ragged, she struggled to talk.  “Do not weep for me, for I go to a better place. The Mira people will be forever safe.  Summer can no longer harm them, nor can she harm me.  I give my life freely.”  Her hand reached out for his.  “This is my choice…It cannot be taken from me...Commit this and my song to memory, so that you may always have something to remember me by.”
        “I could never forget you.”
        “Even so, remember…” Then she used her last bit of strength to sing the beautiful, sad song, and Andy hid it within his heart.
        The leaves fluttered around them as her breathing became shallow, and he could see the pain in her eyes.  Then he felt her relax, as a sense of peace began to ease her discomfort.  He looked up at the trees; a single green leaf still clung to one of the branches.  The last leaf; it gave him hope, one last chance to tell her—
        “Autumn, I will always love you.”
        Her smile was faint.  She mouthed the words, “And I…you.”  She closed her eyes and Andy glanced up at the leaf; it fluttered down, landing upon her chest.  A vibrant red.
        He laid his head upon her lap and poured out his sorrow, wept until he could weep no longer. Then he carried her back to the Mira Vale, the leaf secure in his pocket, a memory of her vibrant life and the time God had blessed them with, from their first meeting until their last precious moment together.
    
Summer did not keep her word. She marched toward the Mira Vale with the intent to slay all of the Mira with her dark magic.  But as her foot touched Mira ground, she fell dead.  For, as the Mira would later discover, Autumn’s Song was more than music.  It was a magical contract, protecting the Mira from Summer’s harm, should she break her word and seek to destroy the Mira after her death.  Therefore, it was a contract that could not be broken without Summer risking her own life.
        Autumn’s sacrifice not only saved the Mira from Summer’s wrath, but also all future generations of the Mira people.  For, as Autumn meant it to be, it has ever been Autumn in the Mira Vale, the leaves providing healing powers for all manner of illness and injury.
    
As for Andy, he never married. To this day, the leaf he preserved in memory of his beloved Autumn is as bright as the day it fell from the tree.  And every year on the anniversary of her passing, the Mira sing a song to honor the young girl who gave her life to save them and brought peace with the Scintillates to the Mira, forever.
    
     “Autumn falls, the leaves like endless rain,
                         Tears falling, falling,
                              Softly singing,
                  Autumn falls, forevermore.” 
 
 
                         About The Author
  
        Christine E. Schulze’s passion for writing books and stories began when she was about four years old.  Now she writes Christian fantasy books for young adults, and she is excited to be in the process of getting her first book, “Golden Healer, Dark Enchantress,” published by the Writers’ Exchange, an e-book and print-on-demand publisher.  She has also had a poem published in her college newspaper.
        A young adult herself, Christine has just received her Associates’ degree from Southwestern Illinois College and will be pursuing her Bachelor’s degree in Elementary Education at McKendree University in the fall of 2008.  Though studying to be a teacher, writing remains her first passion.
        She has finished eleven books, and hopes to see all of them, as well as all the other books she is working on, published one day, and enjoyed by readers throughout the world.  She also enjoys creating music and illustrations to go along with her books and stories. 
        Christine currently lives in Shiloh, Illinois with her mom, Diane, as well as their four dogs, Oreo, Jojo, Honey, and Tootsie, and their rabbit, Thumpy.
        “Autumn Falls” is her first publication credit for fiction.
    
    
                              Copyright © Christine E. Schulze