Disclaimer: I do not own Descendants.
They say that history is written by the victors. She understands the point being made with the statement, but she has one rather large point over which to quibble with the assertion - what if there are no victors? What if all that has been accomplished in a conflict is a temporary stalemate? What stories will make their way to comprise the history of the time then? She has no answers for those questions. She finds there are a rather large number of similar questions for which she has no answer to give. It is not a particularly enviable position in which to find oneself when one is the mother of a child who surrounds herself with other children who delight in asking such questions.
She does not know what the history books will ultimately say about the creation of the Isle (she supposes it will depend, in part, on where it is those history books are written). In truth, she is not even certain what it is that she would like them to say. There are many days during which her only hope is that there is enough of a world left to want to write those history books when everything is said and done - she knows that their current position cannot hold forever. She is sure that there are lessons to be learned from this particular subsection of time, but she does not know if she is qualified to determine what those lessons might be. It is likely best to leave the history books for later - when those directly in the middle of it can be evaluated with a measure of perspective. Maybe she is just trying to put off having to find responses for those questions that she cannot answer.
It was not as if any of their decisions had been easy. It was not as if they never thought about the what ifs. It was not as if the barrier created some sort of a block that prevented them from remembering what was on the other side. They never forgot. She never forgot.
It hurt Fairy Godmother's heart each and every day of her life that they had left so many people on the outside of the barrier that kept them safe from the evil that had been left to wreak havoc on the rest of the world. The truth was that there had only been so much time. The truth was that they had not even known if the plan was actually going to work. The truth was that the only other option would have been to stay and fight and watch everyone die for their trouble, but that did not make the truth any easier to take. There had been countless souls left to make their way as best they could in a world where everything that they knew about right and wrong had been turned on its head.
She thought about it each and every day. She would never stop feeling guilty about the ones their decision had left behind. She would always wonder and second guess.
Her only consolation was that between the two of them, she and the Blue Fairy had managed to make the barrier work in the way which their scribbled (on the back of a napkin of all things) plan had been designed - the magic of the entire world (multiple worlds really although no one knew what had caused the original rift that had made the once separated by dimensions Kingdoms share the same space) was anchored on this Isle. Magic flourished and was used freely here inside the dome - on the outside it might as well have never existed. This, at least, gave those left behind a fighting chance.
The villains only had ordinary violence and intimidation at their disposal.
Somehow, that only made her feel minimally better. Large numbers of them had never needed anything but ordinary violence and intimidation in the first place. The others were liable to be even more violent in their anger over the loss of their powers.
Life on the Isle was not easy - there were always questions about whether the crops would come in well enough to tide them through winter (but magic had its practical uses there). The children here would never live in palaces, but they would also never be required to ride out to battle evil before they finished puberty.
They were good children; they were happy children, and she had to be as content as she could be with that. She could pretend that she never noticed Anthony Baker slipping away from his father's shop and standing at the shore looking toward where he knew his mother was somewhere on the outside. She could pretend that she did not notice when her Jane came home with her face flushed and her eyes excited after listening to one of Ben's speeches of how someday they would have grown into worthy warriors that would be able to go forth and bring peace and liberation to the occupied Kingdoms.
There would come a day, she knew, when they would demand to be allowed to try. She had not the heart to tell them that come that time the Kingdoms might have no interest in liberation. So, she bit her tongue and exchanged worried looks over the children's heads with Belle and let Ella cry on her shoulder after she had politely smiled through one of Chad's dissertations over how he was going to save all the children "over there" who had families that did not love them right (his eight year old understanding of the bits and pieces he had heard about his mother's adolescence).
It was quite the muddle that teaching their children right from wrong would lead to teenagers and adults that would demand to be allowed to put those teachings into practice. That day, however, was not today. For today, their children were shielded from the dangers of the outside by the barrier and she would relish their safety even as she mourned for those who were not similarly protected.