The Iron Butterfly

Mother Nature was walking in one of her beautiful gardens one day when she came across a butterfly fluttering about with a frown on his little butterfly face.
“why so gloom?” She asked, letting the delicate creature hover over her cupped palms.
“I just ran into another crow,” replied the butterfly, “she tried to eat me just like the others, though she only got a bit off my wing.” he said landing gently on the Earth Goddess’ right palm, raising his delicate wings, splashed with vivid colour and shimmering in the afternoon sun. There was a little tear in his too right wing.
“You poor thing,” cooed Mother Nature, “you must be in so much pain.” she send bringing her face closer to her hands to examine the damage to the insect. He stood still in her hands as she looked keenly at the little creature’s wing, holding her breathe and creasing her brow. She stood like that for a few seconds, tapping into her immortal wisdom searching for the best way to help this perfect coming together of peace and unpredictable freedom that captivated all that gazed upon him on any midsummer afternoon; especially if there were flowers blooming with their faces raised towards the sun, and the butterfly flying from flower to flower drinking up the sweet nectar the points gave in exchange for getting their pollen spread.

“Luckily the tear will heal in a few weeks, you should be fine enough to fly longer in a couple of days.” pipped Mother Nature, standing up straight and giving the insect a smile of pure empathy and hope.
“And then what your highness? Wait for the next time? Which might be the last incident before I get torn apart and called dinner.” quipped the little creature, a hint of anger and pain in his tiny voice. “I’m tired your highness, I can’t take it any more. I need a permanent solution.” he finished, his meek voice breaking at the end of his plea, obviously very hurt and tormented.
Mother Nature spoke as her eyes began to glow with her divine power; she was calling up on her power to grant a single wish to any being, in the heavenly realm or in the Earth Kingdom. “How would you like me to help you beautiful of creations?” she asked.
“Give me wings of iron!” said the butterfly, stretching out his wings in a full display of their intricate beauty and artistic lines. “And edge then with, blades smelted from the spears of the god’s.” he added, “And make it so that they should be the strongest substance known to all beings, till the end of time.” he finished. His times voice replaced by that of a being driven by determination and finality. The butterfly wanted this more than anything in the universe.
“Are you sure this what you want?” asked Mother Nature, “I don’t think it’s the bes…” “I am sure!” cut in the butterfly “This is what I want. This is what I wish for oh gracious of heavenly beings.” Said the butterfly,  even more determination present in his voice.
Mother Nature shrugged, she decided she was curious to see how this would turn out. “Granted.” she said in an almost monotone voice, a sharp contrast to her previous whimsical and enchanting tone. “By next dawn you will have what you have wished for.” she said. A statement which set the insect in a flurry of swoops and animated flips. He couldn’t wait till tomorrow when he could see his new wings: his new weapon against the pain after being a defenseless animal in a place where everything wanted to eat any other animal smaller that it. Finally he would be able to fight back, to defend himself.

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