🔥🌾🌱 Straw, Coal, and Bean

 

🔥🌾🌱 Straw, Coal, and Bean (FanumTaxLoveTales Edition)

“The Three That Crossed the Flame”

A Tale of Alchemy, Elemental Courage, and the Power of Unlikely Unity
Book Twenty-Seven of the Sacred Fairy Tale Series
As remembered through Sister Loves Divine Remembrance

🌕 The Beginning

Once upon a time in the hush before dawn… no cap.
The Hearth Mother stirred her cauldron, pure vibes.
She called out three humble vibes to carry her message to the Four Corners, squad assemble.

• Straw, golden and light, born of Earth and Sun
• Coal, ember of Fire and Memory
• Bean, sacred seed of Potential and Breath
  They’d never left the hearth before.
  They didn’t know the roads.
  But they clocked the Mother’s voice, facts.
  “The world forgot how small things drop big truths,”
  she spit. “Roll out. Travel together. Face your test,” straight fire.

🌿 The Journey Begins

The three kicked off, awkward at first.
Straw was itchin’ at everything.
Coal kept flarin’ with worry.
Bean was always askin’ questions, sus vibes.
But as they rolled, they started gettin’ each other, glow-up energy.

• Straw showed how to bend and weave paths.
• Coal remembered the warmth of old stories.
• Bean sang to the soil and made stuff grow, pay it forward.
  They were alchemical opposites,
  but their friction sparked transformation, boss level.

🌉 The Great Stream of Reflection

They hit a stream that mirrored not their bodies,
but their essence, multiverse mode.
Each had to cross without losin’ their sacred vibe.
Straw feared the water would unravel him.
Coal feared it would quench him.
Bean feared she’d sprout and forget to move, deep feels.
But they had each other’s backs:

• Straw floated with Bean ridin’ his back.
• Coal leapt stone to stone with Straw’s hype.
• Bean whispered thanks to the water for holdin’ their reflection, big W.
  All three made it. Together, iconic.

🌟 The Trial of the Laughing Wind

A trickster spirit popped up,
mockin’ their humble forms, tryna make ‘em forget:
“You’re too small to matter. The world only flexes iron and oil,” no cap.
But the trio didn’t shout.
They laughed—not at themselves,
but at the illusion of greatness, glow-up truth.
And with that laugh, the spirit ghosted.
Their laughter was straight-up medicine, inner glow on blast.

✨ Moral of the Sacred Tale

Even the smallest spark, stalk, or seed holds the universe, facts.
Alchemy kicks off not with power, but with squad vibes, own that energy.
The sacred always creeps quiet at first,
‘til it’s laughed into bein’, boss level.