Somewhere on Avalon...
Peaseblossom inhaled a deep breath, gasping for air after the horrific dream had gripped her mind and thrown it for loops. "Oh dear...Oh, oh no...No, it cannot be!"
The whole forest was still and silent this Midsummer's night, with seemingly nothing out of the ordinary...
...And that was exactly the problem; this was Avalon, land of the fair folk. It was almost never quiet, with fairies dancing into the wee hours and crickets chirping. The fairy woman tried to shake off the coat of bad omens from her person. Dreams were only the work of Morpheus, and everybody with a brain knew that he was a spiteful jackass. He was probably just punishing her for eating his piece of cake. But then again...
Peaseblossom shuddered as she remembered the hollow sound of the voice, the dripping of stagnant water, and the horrible stench of death that surrounded her. In her dream, she was laying in a human rain gutter, so very near to death, so very close to closing her eyes and never seeing her beloved Avalon or her precious Fenella ever again. Poor Blossom tried to cry out, but her mouth had been sealed shut with a spiderweb. And then, IT happened. IT was the thing that was dreaded on Avalon. Could Ragnarok finally be coming by Her hand? Wasn't She supposedly imprisoned deep within the molten iron core of the earth?
Before Peaseblossom floated a three-inch tall faerie, purple with long hair flowing of its own accord like snakes on the head of Medusa. Looking into her face was like peering into the eyes of the Reaper himself. And from out her lips came a sinister, cackling phrase...
"O, then, I see Queen Mab hath been with you..." And Peaseblossom woke up screaming. Somewhere, in a house in Danville...
It was five years ago today, Ferb thought as he sat on the couch, scanning a little television and trying to will back unpleasant memories. Five years since that ugly mess with Cobweb and Robin and P. B...It made him a little sick to think about. Everyone around him, save his parents, knew why he despised this day, though it remained unsaid. It was an ugly secret, a blight on his life that he needed to keep in the dark. From that day on, he hated everything to do with magic and the paranormal. He barely went out for Halloween and had to be dragged to the principal's office when he started having flashbacks and freaking out halfway through A Midsummer Night's Dream. He had curled up in a ball under his desk and refused to move until eventually Ms. Wilson picked him up and carried him to the office. Word spread quickly about him and he soon found himself with the nickname "Fairy Phobia Fletcher". His brother, God love him, stood up for him to the bitter end, but it was still a miracle that the high-school boys didn't rip him apart. Of course, it wasn't Phineas's fault, or his own. It was something that he wished had never happened and would never forget. But he was a tough kid and could stick it out.
He had just gotten back from the library and was flipping through "Dandelion Wine" for his Advanced Lit summer project when the news story popped up, leaving his blood cold.
The anchorwoman smiled away gleefully, recounting the news. "I'm here at the Danville Museum of Natural History with a local archaeologist who says he's made an amazing discovery!"
The camera closed in on a middle-aged man with thick glasses and balding hair. "Diana, I believe I have made an earth-shattering discovery! Right here, in Danville, I uncovered a slab of solid marble with strange writing, writing not usually found anywhere outside of Celtic ruins."
The pathetic anchor smiled away. "Well, what does it say?"
The man adjusted his glasses and said, "It appears to be a prophecy of some sort! It reads; When darkness overcomes us all, even Oberon may fall. He fell to us from Earthen sky, his praises we will sing on high. The mortal child, all alone, must rise above to take the throne. We restlessly must scour the Earth for Faerie Prince of Human Birth..?" The man stared curiously. "That is SOME bedtime story!"
The household was quiet for a minute. He tried to deny it, pretended that it was some other person mentioned there. But it was futile.
Ferb Fletcher, now fifteen, was the heir to the Seelie Throne.