A/N: Seriously…how can writing that references faeries and unicorns be so depressing? xD Ah well, it's a nice contrast to my "Tangled Embroidery" drabble…figured I'd post it up just to see if anyone else likes it~ :3
Arthur remembered, regardless of passing years, that there actually was a time when his dearest colony's eyes could see England's magic and its multitude of creatures…the faeries…and unicorns…
Yet somewhere along the way—around the 18th century—that sensitive sight became suppressed. The enchantment fled azure eyes and nothing England did could restore it.
The boy grew up, abandoning his "childish" fancies…along with the British Empire.
After that, Arthur lost himself to the depths of his own illusions.
The only thing left: pessimistic hope—a hope of seeing the tiniest spark of a spell in those cherished eyes once more.
