Gnomes and fairies don’t normally have a close relationship because our personalities are so different. Gnomes are a reserved, plan-in-advance type of species. Unfortunately, we often lapse into extended silences while we slowly deliberate our strategies. Fairies are quick and intuitive and even their group discussions take only a moment. They can make decisions in an instant.

Our natural vibrations are so different that on a personal level most gnomes and fairies have nothing to say to each other. Our two groups do mutually respect each other’s capabilities when it comes to working together. We can communicate about our projects by telepathy as needed. However, the two groups have always led separate lives on Zelen and on most worlds.

Phyler and I were the exception to the rule about having nothing in common. We gradually struck up a friendship after a few years of working together. We shared our knowledge of the Round Woods to broaden our understanding of the land.

Phyler didn’t indulge in idle chatter like some of the younger and more sophomoric fairies. Instead, she communicated in her quick little voice that reminded me of a tiny sweet-pitched bell. I would never be able to understand her rapid comments if I couldn’t read her thoughts at the same time. Most likely Phyler wouldn’t understand me without reading my thoughts, either, but we made it work.

Our friendship was even more unusual in that we were so similar in our outlook on life. We seemed to be kindred spirits somehow. She called me “Gnomy Gnome” instead of Eden, and I called her “Dragonphyler” since she looked so much like a silvery dragonfly buzzing by.

I learned that fairies are very sensitive to beings in pain. The dark auras from suffering disturb them greatly. Gnomes share this trait also, and this is one of the characteristics that helped us understand each other.

I taught Phyler plant and animal information, and she got me up to speed on who was important in our solar system and how they fit into our local web of life. Sometimes we would discuss issues or pass along news about fairies and gnomes.

Phyler started tagging along with me on my daily treks through the Round Woods, as I was checking up on things and looking for any ripples in local energy fields. Phyler would rest on my shoulder and direct me to whatever problems she had sensed on her daily flights looking over the Woods.

One damp and chilly spring day, Phyler and I realized a big difference between gnomes and fairies: gnomes hate rain. Fairies love rain.

Gnomes hate getting wet and we hate being chilly after a day in the rain. A waterproof rain hat and coat keep most of the water off of our clothes, but within a few hours the rain drips down our hats onto our eyebrows and noses. Even worse, the moisture trickles down our necks and backs and chests. Our beards act like vast sponges and hold large amounts of water. Every so often we have to pick up our beards and squeeze out the torrents of water. A wet gnome is an unhappy gnome.

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Now I don’t like rainy days, but I used to enjoy watching Phyler patrol the Round Woods in the rain. Phyler loved being in the rain. Phyler simply cast a silvery glow around herself to keep the raindrops off, and away she flew. Phyler dipped one hand out of her waterproof glow every now and then, just to feel the rain on her skin.

I preferred to sit on my covered porch during rainstorms, listening to the showers while looking out on the peaceful meadows sloping toward the Long Lake. This was the time that I used to carve oak or cherry branches previously gathered from the woodlands. I mostly shaped gardening tools or kitchen items, small useful items that I would take home to Jaal, my wife.

Every gnome wife is proud of her collection of handmade items carved by family members. The collection often includes special, complex objects carved by parents, grandparents or other relatives. These prized heirlooms are passed down through the centuries and generations. But even a gnome wife has to admit that there can be too much of a good thing.

I had become a bit bored with my overabundance of workaday practical carvings, and also had absentmindedly noticed that the fairies had few belongings in their bright and airy cavern grotto. Apparently carving isn’t a skill the fairies care to master. It makes sense that fairies don’t enjoy the planning and concentration required to carve wood. Those skills don’t mesh with their quicksilver thoughts and role of being guardians of Zelen.

Hmmm…Instead of tramping around out in the rain looking for problems, I prefer to be at home carving. Instead of sitting at home during cloudbursts, fairies prefer to take flight. As it came time for me to set aside my carving and get ready for my damp walk through the woods, these two thoughts came together.

Oh Dragonphyler! I called out to her. How would you like to furnish your empty cavern?

I quickly thought out loud. Would you like to receive new bowls for your guests and spoons for their stews? Maybe some decorations for your walls? Or even bead necklaces to imbue with fairy magic and give as gifts? Or mushroom-shaped stools, from fairy sizes to bear sizes. Or maybe even a few substantial chairs for visitors who enjoy extra comfort or need to be the center of attention.

Phyler slowed down at hearing my words, then circled back. Soon we were in solid negotiations.

We finally agreed that Phyler would take over rainy day security patrols for me. In return, I would spend that time carving items for the fairies.

Our terms decided, we both moved into our new roles. Since I am always happy to find more time to carve and Phyler is equally happy to find more reasons to fly in the rain, the arrangement has been a great success.

Incidentally, as news of our successful little bargain hit the local gossip circles, I thought this type of arrangement between fairies and gnomes might become popular. It seemed like a perfect solution to stop gnomic grumbling about going out in the rain, plus solved a furnishing issue common to fairies across many worlds. Then, inevitably, cross-species friendships would develop from there.

Unfortunately, the concept never took off on Zelen, or on any other planet for that matter. It was sad that our two groups couldn’t even bond over something as useful as this type of collaboration. As they say, ancient habits die hard. I guess what our two species really have most in common is the ability to avoid change.