Disclaimer: I don't own Brave.
"It is said—though by whom is a bit of a mystery—that on certain days for certain travelers in certain parts of the world, little lights dance on the horizon, whispering tempting invitations... pledging the answers to lifelong questions, the realization of dreams, a key to secret treasures—a change of fate.
Charmed and curious, unsuspecting travelers follow the floating lights, mesmerized by their whispers, their promises. Yet no matter how long or how fervently they follow, they never quite touch the beautiful beacons whose flickering lights eventually fade and disappear... leaving the inquisitors, the dreamers and the treasure seekers lost... and alone."
Prologue: Little Blue Things
"And so, Merida's bond with her mother was strengthened—and she found love in her own time. It's because of her that you have your freedom." Brenna stared at her father in wonder, tucking a loose strand of onyx hair behind her ear.
"Dad?"
"Yes, dear?"
"Tell me more about the wisps." He cleared his throat theatrically, rubbing his hands together and shifting in his seat. As he readjusted his position, the wooden chair creaked loudly, making Brenna giggle. Her father, David Gowan, was well past overweight—something he was "working on." She often reminded him that it didn't count if he ate three times his size every night at supper.
"The wisps," he said gruffly, mysteriously, "are very dangerous—but, at the same time, necessary. Our history dances around them—there's no question they're intertwined with fate, pushing us towards the places we need to go, guiding us... but, at the same time, letting us choose our own paths, and eventually, our destiny." Brenna smiled softly at her father's animated face, candlelight bouncing off his skin. Destiny. Did she have one? She didn't know. In her eighteen years, she'd never encountered a wisp before... but a glimmer of hope still burned inside her. She had friends that claimed they'd seen one or two—but not several in a row, lighting a path, like in her father's stories. "They're little blue things; tiny orbs of light that call to you, whisper to your soul. When you see one, you'll know," he told her. Even though she believed him, she sometimes thought she could see tiny flickers in the distance, perhaps on a warm summer evening, underneath the stars...
But she knew that was silly; they were probably only lightning bugs, fluttering through the dewy grass, glowing in the meadow.
"Wisps are dangerous, Brenna," Nora Gowan said, soft but firm, as she entered the room. "You need to stop looking for them. If it's meant to be, they'll find you." Brenna sighed softly, getting up to help her mother put the food on the table. "Alright, mum."
As they ate, she watched as her family's spoken words shook the flames of the candles, making them dance in the air and wiggle about. And then, when they paused in their discussion, the candles became still, burning brightly, sending light across the room. They didn't flicker, or move, or dance. They just shone.
She felt her heart flutter, like a candle, as hope ran through her veins once more. And, when she went to sleep that night, she dreamt of quiet whispers and little blue things guiding her to her destiny.
