Liam and the Misty Mountains

 Liam and the Misty Mountains

Liam couldn’t believe his eyes. Just moments ago, he’d been snuggled in his bed, his favorite book still clutched in his hands, when he suddenly found himself standing on the edge of a cliff. And not just any cliff—this one had floating rocks, misty peaks rising like sleepy giants, and a valley below where plants glowed purple and pink like a million tiny fairy lights.

He gasped, taking it all in, and clutched his backpack tighter. Wait—backpack? When did he put that on? And what was inside? He quickly peeked in, hoping to find a candy bar or maybe a camping lanturn. But all he found was a single sandwich, a flashlight with barely any battery left, and, of course, his stuffed rabbit, Mr. Nibbles, who looked just as surprised as Liam.

“Well, Mr. Nibbles,” Liam said, holding the rabbit up to the landscape, “I don’t think we’re in the bedroom anymore.”

Mr. Nibbles stared back at him with his stitched smile, clearly unfazed. Mr. Nibbles had been on many of Liam’s pretend adventures, but Liam was pretty sure that this wasn’t pretend. He’d pinched his arm about seven times to check.

Ahead of him, a narrow path twisted down the cliffside, disappearing into the mist below. The only sound was the faint hum of the glowing plants and a strange, low whistle that seemed to come from somewhere far in the distance.

Liam felt a shiver of excitement. “Guess we’d better explore, right?” he said, setting Mr. Nibbles back into his backpack and zipping it up, leaving just his head poking out. With a deep breath, he took his first step down the path, doing his best “intrepid explorer” impression. His heart pounded with a mix of nervousness and thrill. Who knew what he might find?

As he rounded the first bend, he spotted a strange figure crouched by a purple bush. The figure was dressed in ragged clothes, with a wide-brimmed hat pulled low over his face. Liam squinted. The creature—no, the *person*—seemed to be talking to himself in a soft, scratchy voice.

“Erm, hello?” Liam called, as politely as he could manage.

The figure jumped, clutching at his hat. “Good gracious, who goes there?” he croaked, looking up with wide, curious eyes. He had a face like a wrinkled mushroom, with a long nose and wispy white hair sticking out from under his hat.

Liam stepped closer, careful not to scare him. “My name’s Liam. I, uh, think I might be lost. I just sort of… appeared here.” He gestured at the cliffside and the mist.

The mushroom man raised a single bushy eyebrow. “Appeared, you say? Well, that’s highly irregular. Highly.” He gave Liam a serious look, then seemed to come to a decision. “Name’s Fiddlewink, Chief Guide of the Misty Mountains—well, retired, actually. These days I mostly chat with the plants.”

He patted the glowing bush fondly, as if it were an old friend. The bush sparkled back, as if to say, *Hello, yes, we’re very much best friends.*

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Fiddlewink,” Liam said, feeling a bit more comfortable. “Um, do you think you could tell me where I am? And maybe how to get home?”

Fiddlewink scratched his chin thoughtfully, which made a sort of squeaking sound. “Well now, that’s the question, isn’t it? Where you are. Not many people come here on purpose, you see. The Misty Mountains are rather selective.”

“Selective?” Liam echoed, trying to keep up.

“Yes, yes. They like a certain *type*, if you catch my drift.” Fiddlewink waggled a finger at Liam. “Adventurous. Curious. Not afraid of heights… much.”

Liam gulped and decided to change the subject. “So, you said you’re a guide? Maybe you could show me around?”

Fiddlewink beamed, clearly delighted by the request. “Oh, I suppose I *could* dust off the old skills. Follow me, young Liam!” He trotted down the path with surprising speed for someone who looked like he was older than Liam’s whole town.

They walked for what felt like hours, winding down the cliffs, through tunnels covered in bioluminescent moss, and across narrow bridges made from twisted roots. Every now and then, Fiddlewink would point out something important, like the “Majestic Purple Splotherbush” (a shrub that was very nice but apparently *terrible* to eat) or the “Glowing Green Wiggleroot” (which was *delicious*, but made your tongue tingle for days).

“Just don’t eat more than three Wigglers in a row, or you might start floating,” Fiddlewink warned.

Liam tried not to laugh. “Floating?”

“Oh yes. Happened to my cousin once. Had to tie rocks to his feet to keep him from floating away.”

As they walked, Liam realized he wasn’t as scared as he’d been at first. Fiddlewink’s stories were strange and sometimes didn’t make much sense, but they made the Misty Mountains feel… friendly, almost. Like maybe he belonged here, even just a little.

Just when Liam was beginning to wonder if they’d ever stop walking, Fiddlewink halted abruptly. “Look, boy, down there.”

Liam peered over the edge of the cliff. Below, he saw a massive cave entrance, framed by sparkling purple vines. And at the mouth of the cave, glowing brightly, was a round pool of water that seemed to pulse with light.

“What is it?” Liam asked, awestruck.

“That,” Fiddlewink said with great seriousness, “is the Wishing Pool. It’s been here as long as the Misty Mountains themselves. You throw something into the pool, make a wish, and poof! It just might come true.”

Liam’s eyes widened. “Really? I could wish to go home?”

Fiddlewink nodded, though he looked a little sad. “If that’s what you really want. You could even wish for two sandwiches next time instead of one.”

Liam laughed, reaching into his backpack. “I don’t have much to throw in, just this sandwich and Mr. Nibbles, but—”

“Wait, wait!” Fiddlewink interrupted, horrified. “Not the rabbit! You don’t throw rabbits in the Wishing Pool! The Wishing Pool has *rules*, you know!”

Liam chuckled. “I was kidding, Mr. Fiddlewink.” He took a deep breath, feeling a strange mixture of relief and sadness. This place was amazing, and he’d never had an adventure like this. But… he did miss his family, and his bed, and maybe even his little sister (even if she *did* always touch his stuff).

He tossed his sandwich into the pool and squeezed his eyes shut. “I wish I could go home.”

For a moment, nothing happened. But then, the pool began to glow brighter, swirling with colors. Liam felt a strange pull, like he was being lifted off his feet. He looked at Fiddlewink, who waved sadly.

“Goodbye, Liam! Don’t forget about the Misty Mountains, and don’t you dare forget old Fiddlewink!”

“Never!” Liam shouted, feeling the world spin around him.

And then, just as suddenly as he’d arrived, Liam was back in his bedroom. The first thing he noticed was his bed, the second was Mr. Nibbles still clutched in his hand, and the third was… the sandwich.

“Wait a minute…” Liam blinked. There, on his nightstand, was his very same sandwich, perfectly whole. He laughed, realizing that maybe, just maybe, the Misty Mountains and Fiddlewink weren’t so far away after all.

As he lay back, he whispered into the darkness, “Goodnight, Mr. Fiddlewink.”

And somewhere, far off in the Misty Mountains, a certain mushroom-faced guide chuckled and tipped his hat to the stars.