A/N: Okay, let me explain. This is an ORIGINAL faery tale, with snippets from different original canon contemporary novels (ie, Artemis Fowl and Harry Potter. However, this is not a crossover; it has MINOR MINOR references to both fandoms, so I don't see it fit to put it in either fandom). The full disclaimer will be displayed at the end of the story. I had this idea in 5th Grade, when were instructed to write a picture prompt story. Orb, rug faeries, and all that good stuff was created in my head. Last year, I received a challenge to write a faery tale, so, being the lazy bum I am, I just "revamped" my old story (originally entitled "Under The Rug").
And so, we got this.
I'm going to submit the 40-paged faery tale in parts. This is the prologue.
For Alison
You know who you are.
And so do the faeries.
Prologue
Aura, Spring of 50198, AHI (after human infestation)
A storm, promising of slush and pelting rain droplets, erupts from the far side of the mountain, over the grim-looking hills, and the vast, dense darkness that was the lake.
Thelda, a faerie currently residing on level fourteen in her magical studies, looks out the window with a determined glaze of hardness. She surveys the scene with a slight amount of triumph, it was just as she had predicted.
Keeping her gaze locked on the clouds, the sprite returns to her study bench to practice the correct incantation needed for the spell she was about to undertake. Her thin, multicolored, translucent wings; which were sprouting out of her shoulder blades, were tittering in agitation.
On the faerie's desk lay several things that were of interest. A spell book, filled with a flowery writing of an unknown language, in which Thelda was peering into keenly; lay on the smooth surface of wood. A peculiarly shaped rock shimmered beside it. On the pearly complexion of the stone there were several carved runes, each painted in an accent black polish. A disfigured amount of dried herbs and grasses were clumped together haphazardly together beside the rock, giving off a sweet smell of coriander.
Thelda was concentrating. The thin brows of her lime-colored skin were tightly knit together; her perfectly pointy nose was slightly scrunched, as if a suspicious smell was in the air; and her long, tapered fingers were balled into fists. A bead of sweat lingered on her temple, taking as long as possible to trickle downward.
Suddenly, Thelda jumped up from her seat at the table, grabbing the shimmering stone off of her desk, and strides toward the window, throwing the panes open as far as possible. The storm was still raging with gusto outside, flinging handfuls of sleet at the sprite's face.
With a wave of her hand, and some choice words floating out of the faerie's mouth, the storm stops.
KABLAAAM.
The stone in her hand cracks open with a deafening sound, knocking its owner off her feet. Out comes the ultimate prize, a tiny golden pebble. It whizzes out the window, just as Thelda was about to catch it in her hand. Her long fingers snatched air.
How could she have forgotten? The golden pebble shall resort to any means possible to escape from the owner, Thelda repeats the ancient rhyme to herself, and it is thy duty to ensure a strong hold upon it.
An overwhelming sensation began to spread through Thelda; first as a miniscule tingling in her fingers, then as a colossal wave pounding through her arms, legs, and chest.
She screamed.
Evil ruptured her heart, hatred poured through her blood stream.
A full-fledged witch materialized…
A/N: And so this is the prologue! Wut do ya think?
Review! I allow flamers.
