Chapter 31: Family Discussions
—Piper's POV—
"Well, that should about do it…" She surveyed the ingredients she had gathered for Timmy's next treatment, tapping her foot to the beat of the music she had playing on a record player she had perched on her desk; an odd mashup of traditional Celtic folksongs and 50s pop rock—a fusion not very many besides her liked.
The usual ingredients for the incense that would help open his star-points and allow the magic to flow through him more easily during the magic-filter-cycle were arranged in front of her along with several ingredients that were besides the norm.
He seemed to have more trouble than the usual child with the progress. No surprise there, all things considered, so she altered the recipe a little. Hopefully inhaling these new herbs would help things flow better and decease some of the pain he experienced. It wouldn't do for him to lose his nerve and drop out halfway, choosing to take the Fey Fruit in order to recover without the need for the magical-filter-cycle. A number of the Kinders here had done just that, lacking the strength of will to endure the agony of the treatment, but also not wanting to resign themselves to dying without it. Since the majority of them had average or low bond levels with their godparent, it had been the best choice for them to make.
Timmy,however was going to become an Angel, the first angel in a long, long time. Having him become a Kinder before the magic-filter-cycle finished would be a tragic waste. She was sure Nova felt the same way, that having the boy become an Angel was best, but with his soft heart, if the boy cried enough about being unable to endure, he probably would give him a fruit. The stories she had heard about the kid had made him sound like the willful type, but she wasn't really getting that vibe from him. Not that she got the impression that the stories had exaggerated, but that his spirit had been trampled and was currently in a delicate state. That would be convenient when the time came to convince him to become a Kinder, but for now it was a hurdle they'd have to overcome if they did not want his spirit crumbling before the agony of the magic-filter-cycle eased.
She'd see how these new herbs worked and try to proceed from there. His condition was unlike any other child who had gone through this process, so it could take much longer for the magic-filter-cycle's pain to diminish.
She drummed her fingers on her desk, impatient. That tea party wasn't supposed to last long; she had wanted to run some tests and checks before the treatment, but with that whimsical, flighty Queen showing up…well, she hoped that Nova would have the sense that they couldn't be late for the treatment, not even to satisfy that spoiled, self centered and childish woman.
Not only that, but Wanda, that weepy hypocritical shmuck, was likely butting heads with Mab, or at the very least throwing one hell of a tantrum. She wasn't there, so it was not like she could be sure, but she could take a guess that Mab would have likely given Timmy one of her infamous kisses by now.
Even some of the Fey who otherwise admired the Queen hated this particular aspect of her, though most held their tongues…and even the vocal amongst them knew not to say too much; Fey may be 99.9% immortal, but there were fates worse than death and Queen Mab would see to it that you would find out what at least one of those fates were if you pissed her off enough.
Queen Mab was known by all as the Fey Queen who was the protector of the little children; whose love and adoration for them was second to none. If she could give her honest opinion, however, without facing the consequences of Mab's wrath—she'd say she coveted children and despised mothers.
The Fey of this village and many villages within Queen Mab's circle had stolen away children from homes that had neglected, abused or abandoned them. Queen Mab, however, back in the days before they had been banished from earth had taken not the vulnerable, unwanted children but those who were particularly loved and adored by their mothers—simply because she wanted the love that child had for its mother to be turned onto her instead.
To put it simply, Queen Mab wanted to be the only mother in the world, not something even her great power would allow…but she did force all Kinders within her circle to love her most, even more than their Fey Parents.
She was simply an extremely petty, entitled and self centered woman; but was also powerful, beautiful and charismatic, enough to get away with it.
Honestly, as much as she disliked Wanda, she would have to justify her getting royally pissed, at both Mab and Nova, because she knew freaking well that Nova, in his loyalty towards the Queen would have painted over what she did as a wonderful blessing; heck, he'd even believe it was such a thing!
"Blessing, right…" She snorted. "More like a female-mutt marking its territory on things that don't belong to it. Ah, well, I'll leave Nova to deal with the fallout. It's his family, after all. I don't care as long as no one ruins my adorable new guinea pig."
She swirled on her desk chair, spinning around a few times as she allowed her mind to wander. She was in her lab; a place she allowed no one else to go; not even Nova, though she did lend him her books from time to time.
To ensure no one else went in here, it had no door—it had no entrance at all. It could only be entered by magically transporting one's self into the location, but to do that, one had to know exactly where said location was…and no one but her knew the location of this place. Sure, it was inside her Gingerbread house, but hidden so deep within it, that she was sure that even a hundred Fey searching for a thousand years wouldn't undercover it.
It was not that she wasn't a people person; it was just that there were no people in the village she had any interest in, besides Nova. Even with her friend, however, she just despised being interrupted when she was researching or experimenting with new concoctions.
Across the entirety of one of the spacious room's walls stood a towering chest of drawers with thousands of small compartments built within it. Each drawer contained a variety of herbs, spices, medical plants, and powders. One might have mistaken this chest for containing candy rather than medicine, however, because of the bubblegum-ball shaped knobs on the drawers, which were painted a bright pink reminiscent of saltwater taffy.
The scents from all the different ingredients intermingled, creating an overwhelming aroma. It was difficult to pick out a single scent from the multitude. Although others might have been able to distinguish individual fragrances, she had become accustomed to the overpowering aroma. To her, it had blended into a single scent, one that was both sweet and repugnant at once.
Over countless years, she had tirelessly gathered every ingredient from both the Fey world and the human world. This extensive collection made her chest of drawers the most comprehensive in all of Fey world. However, it seemed that her efforts had resulted in nothing more than a mere collection that served no purpose.
….She hadn't even gotten a chance to make use of 1/8th of it since the Fey were banished from earth.
Without the ability to go to earth and collect new children, she had no human illnesses to work at curing. In those days, when Fey could be choosey about which humans they claimed, they had preferred to take only those in the very best of health.
Of course, many humans in that time period, especially the ones easiest to claim, were ravaged by poverty and disease, so Fey doctors would work on them and see if they could be improved to an acceptable level. Those who could not pass muster even after being worked on were returned to earth with their memories wiped and left somewhat 'touched in the head', if not outright insane.
Other times if they had a pleasing enough disposition personality wise, or were attractive enough, they'd be kept as a servant even if they weren't in the best of health often being returned to the human world with some kind of boon once they began to grow old or showed signs of Fey-Sickness.
The ones that the Fey doctors could improve were given one of five roles; Kinder, Companion/Protector, Bride/Groom, Adopted, or Sacrifice.
….How she missed playing her flute for those children who'd follow behind her like little lambs right into Fey World….the children she brought would become one of the former three….she would never bring children to undergo the cruel 'Adoption' ritual that had reduced Dahlia to the state she was in, or as a 'Sacrifice'—a human to be experimented on.
The children she worked on, while unable to become angels because they hadn't been babies at the time of taking, had all been improved enough to be taken happily by Fey Parents and throughly treasured.
What she missed most, however, were the human women and men, called fey-brides/grooms, that had been taken as a means of making hybrids. Those humans had needed so much care and maintenance, especially the women during pregnancy. Also, the research on combating the Fey-Sickness that ultimately turned the women to trees and the men into flower shrubs had been her most challenging and fulfilling work. The hybrids born from these humans were always coming up with new illnesses or deformities or abnormalities that needed examining and curing…yes, those were the days when she had been very useful. Every single day offered a new entertainment…a new puzzle to solve, a challenge to be met! But those days of purpose had ended with the barrier that the despicable Fairy council had erected.
…Fey rarely got sick or hurt enough to need medical intervention and…well, how hard was it to treat a Kinders' scrapes and sniffles? She did not even bother wasting her energy with the Companions or the animals; she let Nova care for those. The only time she stepped in to deal with those was in the beginning, before Nova came, and when he was still studying on how to properly treat them. Now that he had mastered their care, she had washed her hands of them—dealing with such creatures was just too much of an insult to her skill level.
The medical, psychological and physiological text books lining the shelves on the opposite wall might as well have been reduced to doorstops—not just because she had read them so many times she knew them by heart, but because the information they offered was mostly things, she would never get an opportunity to make use of. Even Nova, who had studied the books on psychology, did not require the aid of their pages anymore and no other Fey around here bothered to waste their time on it, despite having an eternity of free time.
It was all so incredibly boring and frustrating—it was enough to make her envy human doctors; they had exciting work…human bodies were so fragile, so unpredictable…they died so easily—how she would love to work on such challenging specimens on a daily basis! Not even the children she treated for the magical-filter-cycle offered her much excitement because the treatment was pretty much run of the mill…but…oh, not Timmy! No, no, no, not him—his situation was anything but predictable.
She spun her chair faster and faster to the tempo of the music she had playing, letting the room blur around her as she allowed herself to empty her mind for a few moments—she found it helped her get back on track when her thoughts became too cluttered. She spent sometime idling her time away in this manner, before putting her feet down, making the chair come to a halt.
She stared at the wall behind her desk; it was covered in framed portraits; all of them were children. The angels she had helped her mother create. Each one of them had been taken from the human world when they were still wee-babies and raised in the most loving, pampering and nurturing environment possible. Her mother had adored these angels….so much so that she hadn't even wanted to let them go off into the war, despite that having been the very reason they had been created.
….Each one of these angels had gone through the magic-filter-cycle with her mother performing the treatment, and while they experienced pain, and had suffered in the beginning…. it was nothing like what Timmy was experiencing.
She furrowed her brows; that he had stopped breathing during a treatment was not something that had happened before to any of the others. They had lied to keep Wanda calm, playing it off that sometimes too much pain could cause such a thing to happen…truth was though, that it was not something that should have occurred.
His chest, always hot with a certain heat, had turned iced cold—as if she had been touching frozen meat. It had been ghastly to be honest, like she was touching something long dead and yet…alive. Fortunately, pouring a little extra fey magic into the void his heart-soul had left behind had fixed him up quickly, getting him back to…well, as close to normal as he could get, considering the state he was in.
"…Maybe…a short circuit in the magic…? Or an overload…? I gotta study what's inside him closer…we might need to make adjustments…" She spoke to herself, tapping her finger on her chin. "I should start possessing him after each treatment, I think…to be ahead of any shifts or changes…he's an unpredictable case…."
A fascinating case; the first challenge she had in longer than she could remember and if the end results were considered a failure—well, it would be a mortification she'd never recover from.
A lamp, shaped like a cake, she had sitting on her desk, blinked several times—a single that showed her that someone besides Nova was approaching her Gingerbread clinic. She snapped her fingers, making a screen appear, and snorted in amusement to see Jorgen making his way to her door with a limp. Edmund, Eleanor and Theodore pitter pattering around him, urging him on.
He must have been looking all over the village for Wanda and Timmy, but she was pretty sure none of the Fey had deigned to tell him and that was why he was coming to her door now rather than rushing to the glade. She did not really want to leave her room, but the idea of having him barging into her home, wandering the halls like a confused gorilla in a china shop, wasn't very appealing. With a sigh, she snapped her fingers, appearing in her doorway, greeting him with a smirk.
"Oh, so the lumbering lummox has dragged himself to my front door, has he? Needed the kids to help you stagger on over here, did ya?" She peered at him closer and whistled, impressed. "Wow, not even that bad tan of yours is going to hide all that black and blue…so how much do you remember? To be honest, we all thought that Gunter was going to kill you."
"I'm surprised he held back." Jorgen confessed sourly.
"Thank Queen Mab, she got royally pissed." She rolled her eyes. "You know your father is pretty much a slave to his loins for her, not that she'd ever let him into her bed—ugly just isn't her type."
"Piper—!" Jorgen clicked his tongue disapprovingly and took a glance at the faces of the Kinder, their cheeks all turning a bright red.
"Oh, come on, hearing this is nothing compared to what they've seen when they were still human. For example, Edmund lived in a one-room house with parents who just kept having babies."
"….Not even hundreds of years can erase those noises from my memory." Edmund shuddered.
"Ugh!" Eleanor winced, putting her hands over her ears. "Just because we know about it doesn't mean we want to hear about it!"
Truth be told, Eleanor's human life had exposed her too much worse, but mentioning her ordeals, especially in casual conversation, would be in poor taste. Theodore was frowning hard, as if trying to pick through his memories. She had heard from Finch and Siofra that Theo's older sister had worked the 'oldest female profession' in order to feed the family, but they had sealed away such distressful memories from his mind after making him a Kinder. She wondered if they were resurfacing? Unless given some kind of trigger, that ought not to happen, not if Siofra and Finch had been diligent in giving him the proper care that Kinders required to stay stable.
She'd have to have a word with them about not maintaining their Kinder properly—she'd hate to see that mischievous little fox break. His pranks were one of the few things that really made her laugh.
"Where are Turner and Wanda?" Jorgen did not waste time in getting to what he really wanted to know about.
"Your not interested in filling in your own memory blanks first?" She rose a brow.
"There's no point to it; what's done is done, what matters is preventing what might be done to Turner, left alone in the company of Fey and their Queen in an area not bound by the rules of the contract!"
"Seriously, do you think you can actually do anything? If Queen Mab didn't tell Gunter to stop and if I didn't drag your useless ass to your mom to fix up, you'd be toast. If you go there, you'll just end up fighting with your dad again, and either he'll kill you or Mab will get so angry she'll kill you, or maybe she'll kill both you and your father, depending on her mood."
"I can't just wait around doing nothing!"
"Then come inside and wait for them here. In the meantime, you can tell me how my mother's doing. With how much you censor the mail to and from fairy world, writing to her is basically useless."
"…." Jorgen looked uncomfortable, and even the Kinders looked ready to slink away. Most would avoid mentioning her mother in front of her, and she could imagine it was pretty uncomfortable to hear her being the one to speak about her.
"Or…it's pretty useless to write to her at all, isn't it?" She challenged Jorgen's silence, forcing him to reluctantly speak.
"…Your mother is showing a lot of improvement; maybe in a few more years she might even be ready to return to being a Fey."
"Look, I might love sweets, but I hate it when people sugar-coat stuff. Seriously, cut the crap and just tell me about how my mom's doing already. I'm a big girl. If you have bad news, I can take it, you know." She stepped aside to allow Jorgen inside, but he looked hesitant to do so. "Seriously, don't go to where they are. Your father will probably kill you this time."
"Jorgen…." Theodore tugged on Jorgen's arm. "…I always found it best to leave my dad alone after a beating….even trying to apologize would just make him mad and earn me another beating."
"Me too, and yet I kept going back for more, dunno why, thought if I said sorry enough, I'd make him forgive me, somehow." Edmund folded his arms behind his head, kicking the dirt with his feet. "Oh well, he's gone now and my Fey dad never hits me, no matter how bad I am! He might take away my hands, but he doesn't hit! Haha!"
"I never had a dad…" Eleanor confessed. "But my mom would hit me whenever I tried to say no to her…getting hit hurts the body, but the heart hurts even more. It's too painful to get hurt like that twice in one day…"
Yeah, these kids had pretty rotten lives as human children; it was no wonder they could sympathize with Jorgen's relationship with his father. Jorgen had a terribly abusive childhood at the hands of his father, too.
His inability to empathize with the plights of godchildren, as he stringently stuck to Da Rules, was made even more unforgivable by the very fact that he had endured the same suffering himself.
What had happened to Nova's little Julia had even pissed her off, and she normally did not get riled up over such things. Perhaps it was Nova's suffering that had angered her more than the sad fate of the little girl.
Jorgen sighed, looking both embarrassed and uncomfortable with how the Kinders were sympathising and advising him—maybe it was that, that had him decide to follow her inside, but if he'd actually sit still and tell her about her mother was yet to be discovered. Maybe she ought to invite Alethea to sit with them. The woman hated her, but with her unique fey ability, she'd be able to tell her if Jorgen lied then again, Jorgen wasn't a very good lair so she might not need Alethea's help to see through any fibs he told.
"You three, take care of yourselves and don't get into trouble." Jorgen told the kids gruffly, and the three made 'who, us?' gestures, batting their eyes innocently.
"No eating my house either." She pointed at them warningly. "I'm watching. Seriously, you've all heard the story of Hansel and Gretel, right? You know what happens to them in the end, don't you?"
"They kill the witch and live happily ever after?" Eleanor asked cutely.
"….Oh, right." She furrowed her brows. The three giggled—they were definitely going to make a snack of her walls the moment she closed the door. Ah, well, even if it was a nuisance to fix, it was easy to repair.
The more human-like a Kinder was left, the more entertaining they were; that's what she thought, and Timmy would make for a very interesting Kinder….because even if Nova failed to convince Wanda, the moment the child finished the magic-filter-cycle, they were claiming him with or without the approval of his godmother.
— Wanda's POV —
"Poof and Cosmo are going to love these pictures!" Timmy was all smiles as he sat at the table swinging his legs. Nova was sitting across from him, laughing, as he admired the photos they had taken. They were still in the underground cafe/bar that Nova had brought them to, and even though they had spent what felt like six hours in here, and Timmy's fever had subsided, Nova showed no signs of having them leave.
It might have been because Timmy kept coming up with ideas about new games to play or activities to share. Her suspicions that he was trying to delay his upcoming treatment by as much time as possible were pretty much already confirmed, and she knew he'd dilly dally for as long as possible if she let him.
Under normal circumstances she would allow him—even encourage it, as far as she was concerned the longer they both had to wait before enduring that nightmare, the better—but she just couldn't rest easy knowing that his soul was left in such a vulnerable situation. Also, she was still furious with Nova and wanted a break from his company.
"Oh! This one is hilarious! I'm going to make a copy, if you don't mind." Nova did not wait for permission before making a copy of the photo, which he held up with a grin. There was probably no harm in letting him make a copy, but she couldn't help but be nervous about tricks or traps laying in wait. She had used her own camera, so these pictures technically belonged to her, so they ought not to be able to do anything to Timmy by copying one—and they had already proven by the portrait they had placed of her and Timmy in their recovery room that they could easily make images of whoever they wanted, so letting him have Timmy's picture wasn't giving him anything he did not already have.
"That's one of my favorites too; Wanda, what's yours?" Timmy asked, innocently unaware of her inner turmoil.
He had the gotten the idea of asking her to poof up a camera so that they could take some funny photos in front of the giant squid. Nova had gotten a kick out of the idea, and had been all too happy to join in a 'silly' photo session using the, in her opinion, genuinely terrifying Pickles as a prop. There were several images of them clowning around in front of the glass. The picture Timmy was pointing at was one where they had posed pretending that Pickles was Cthulhu; they had on their Eldritch Horror roleplaying outfits of Mark Harrigan and Lily Chen—the characters she and Timmy favored, while Nova had dressed himself up as Norman Withers. It was actually a pretty funny picture, depicting their defeat in the game. She couldn't help but smile at it, despite her increasingly bad mood about being stuck in this room for so long.
At least after their photos had been done, Nova had given Pickles the sign that they were welcomed and it had gone on its way, no longer being a terrifying presence looming over the room, pressing against the glass to peer at them with its countless eyes. She would not be missing Pickles, but she had to admit…she did have a little fun taking those pictures.
"Yes, it is funny. I'm going to frame this one, I think." She picked up another picture, this one just of her and Timmy pretending to scream in terror in front of the creature, but they were both grinning a little too much to really sell the 'terror'.
"This has been fun Timmy, but we really do need to go back." she gently placed her hand on his forehead. "Your fever has subsided."
Timmy seemed to understand why she wanted to leave, but cast her a pleading look. "….Could we….maybe just have one story…by the fire before we go…?"
She crossed her arms, and considered scolding him, but the sounds of his crying and screaming during the last treatment…how he stopped breathing….she clicked her tongue and with a little reluctance, gave in to the request with a sigh. "Oooh, fine, but only ONE…and it's because we have done none of your exercises since coming here, so…."
"Yay!" Timmy grinned, looking happy and Nova smiled lopsidedly, quirking his brow—by his expression she knew he was thinking that she had given in out of weakness and felt the need to defend her decision.
"We have exercises we do together—to help with his ADHD; reading aloud together helps improve both focus and reading comprehension."
"Of course, my dear, of course." Nova laughed, his eyes twinkling. He obviously wasn't buying that excuse.
"Really!" She protested. "I've learned all about it in the weekly support group meeting, held online once a week."
"She learned lots of ways to help me from there," Timmy added, looking a little sheepish about the ribbing Nova was giving her.
"I am confident that the treatment is genuine; however, that her primary motivation is to compensate for missed lessons is what I doubt." Nova winked at her and wagged his finger playfully. "You just can't help indulging your adorable son, can you?"
"Well…maybe." She admitted, only because she knew it would make Timmy happy to hear her say so.
"Hehe, thanks Wanda." Timmy hugged her gratefully. Perhaps she did coddle him a little too much lately, but it was hard not to, with everything he was enduring.
"I have studied child psychology myself, and I can confirm it is a worthwhile exercise to help aid his condition. The support group you attend sounds as if it will be of genuine help. May I ask…do his human parents also attend?"
"Nah, it's held on Wednesday nights." Timmy answered before she could.
"Are they obligated to attend some prior engagement on Wednesday evenings?"
"No, but it's half priced snack day at the Bingo hall. They play Bingo every week and they don't want to go on a night when they have to pay full price at the snack bar," Timmy shrugged nonchalantly. "It makes sense. On a regular night, a chocolate chewie bar costs $4.95! Can you believe how overpriced that is?"
Nova's face fell, and he turned his gaze towards her, his expression almost pleading with her to tell him that Timmy was exaggerating, but all she could do was awkwardly look away. The worst thing was how Timmy accepted this behaviour from his parents not only as normal, but rational. It certainly showed the type of treatment he had become accustomed to over the years….
"I see…" Nova took a few moments to find his words. "Well, you are very lucky to have as fine a godmother as Wanda looking after you."
"Buttering me up isn't going to make me less mad at you…" She mumbled and Nova half grinned, half grimaced.
"Oh Wanda, I swear, you are exactly like my wife when you're angry."
"….!" She gasped. For a moment, it felt as if her entire body had just frozen over and the next thing that happened was an automatic reaction that she literally had no control over. She poofed up a frying pan and slugged him with it.
Nova flew against the glass wall and sat there dazed for several seconds. Timmy put both his hands over his mouth with a gasp. She froze, fear, more than regret taking over her as she pensively watched Nova shake himself off.
"O-oh, uh, s-sorry…my body kinda…moved on its own…" She stammered, but when he started laughing, she couldn't help but exhale in relief.
"Well, that was an honest reaction if ever there was one!"
"Sorry…." She winced at the size of the bump on his head.
"No need to worry, my dear. I completely forgive you. In fact, I might even consider your attack justified for having so deeply upset you earlier. Despite being fully cognizant of the fact that Fairies and Fey perceive the world from distinct perspectives, I found your response to Queen Mab's blessing to be unfathomable and reacted without the appropriate sympathy."
To be honest, he truly deserved more than just one strike. However, this was a good opening to mend their relationship, which was essential if she wanted to prevent Nova from resorting to a more aggressive Plan B to take Timmy away. For now, she needed to act like a dutiful and somewhat gullible daughter-in-law that he could sweet talk and convince into doing what he wanted until Timmy completed his treatments. Once that was done, she could cut ties with her father-in-law for good.
"Well, ok…I understand that you're sorry, and I'll forgive you, but—just so you know, if you compare me to your wife again, I'm dropping a piano on you."
"Duly noted, and now…" Nova snapped his fingers and she found herself in a cushy bean bag chair by the fireplace. "Story time!"
Timmy looked thrilled as he snuggled up to her on the bean bag they shared—was he happier about delaying the time of his treatment or about her 'willingness to forgive' Nova? The poor boy, he held family as such an important thing—to Timmy, nothing was more important than that….and yet…there was not a single member of his human family that truly wanted him to be part of it.
"I want Granpa Nova to hear a Lovecraft story; how about Charles Dexter Ward?"
She did not like how he kept referring to Nova as grandpa now but, she would let it pass because she understood how much it had probably meant to him to have been given the permission to call him that—it gave validation to him being regarded as a member of their family, despite being 'just a godchild'.
"Yeah, no, this story time isn't going to be 180 pages long, sport." She ruffled his bangs affectionately. Timmy would never be just a godchild to her. He'd always be her little human son. "How about Color from Out of Space? That's one of your favorites."
…And wouldn't take hours to read, either.
"I'm most certainly interested in hearing one of your top three preferred stories written by this particular author." Nova backed her up, probably hoping it would send her a message of support; though she had needed it much earlier, such as when Mab was forcing her nectar down her poor boy's throat.
— Anti-Cosmo's POV —
"Oh, son, if ye please... I, um, what might it be? I can scarce imagine why ye'd be needin' a lowly soul like meself." Anti-Mama Cosma mumbled in her cockney accent, her head lowered shyly. A skittish and timid woman, it would be hard to come by a more submissive and passive creature. Anxious and afraid to offend, she often preferred to hold her tongue, and when she did speak, she might as well have been a mere echo of whatever opinions or statements were made by whoever her conversation partner was.
"Dear mother, though I'm painfully aware of your less-than-delightful case of glossophobia, I'm afraid I've got some important matter to discuss with you." Anti-Cosmo lead his mother by the elbow towards the easy chair in his living room. He poofed her up a cup of tea, which she took with a trembling hand.
As he cast a look at his wife, Anti-Wanda, he noticed her pointed glare directed at his mother. Anti-Wanda had always harbored a deep dislike for the poor woman, finding her reticence annoying and her painful shyness frustrating. In turn, his nervous and fragile mother was terrified of Anti-Wanda, becoming even more anxious in her presence. This only served to further irritate his wife, creating an endless cycle of tension and animosity.
"Crumpet, my dearest, if looks could kill, you'd have my mother six feet under by now. If you can't manage a tad more decorum, I'm afraid I'll have to kindly ask you to retire to our room.
"Alright, reckon I'll play nice, but dang it, yer mother's constant whimperin' and shakin' just grates on my nerves. Chattin' with her makes my head feel like it's fixin' to explode."
"Oh, b-blimey, I do apologize ever so deeply..."
"Mother, honestly, how many times must I remind you not to offer apologies when you're insulted?" Anti-Cosmo sighed and poofed up a bowl of his mother's favorite food, jellied eels, in order to put her at ease. He instantly regretted it, however, as she instantly began wolfing down the food, intent on keeping her mouth so full that she would not need to talk.
"Mother, cease your ceaseless munching for just a moment. I must confer with you—it pertains to my father."
Anti-Mama Cosma coughed, choking on her food so badly that he had to perform the Heimlich maneuver on her but the moment the food was coughed up she instantly tried to stuff more into her mouth in a desperate bid to put off responding just for a few moments longer.
"Enough of that, mother, answer me!"
"Um, well... you already know everythin' about 'ow your father became a Fey. I never thought it was proper to keep such things from you or yer brother. Honestly, I reckon what 'e did was downright noble, it was. Them counterparts prattle on 'bout makin' kids 'appy, but then they up and leave 'em right when life gets its hardest. Fairies were always meant to be claimin' the humans we fancied, not leavin' 'em in the human world to age and wither away. If us anti-fairies 'ad godchildren, we'd be bringin' 'em into our world, teachin' 'em to be of use to us, not just castin' 'em aside after grantin' a few wishes that won't stick around or be remembered."
"Yes, yes, I know the story…" He cut her off; the only time his mother spoke this much was when it was about his father; she absolutely adored him and remained as smitten with him as a love-stuck teenager, being throughly dedicated to him even thousands of years after being parted, unlike her far less loyal counterpart, who'd go so far as to date her own in-law. "You needn't sermonize about my father's ideology to me. That's not why I summoned you here."
"Git to the point, y'all! My brain's 'bout ready to pop like a firecracker. My nerves can't handle no more fussin' around!" Anti-Wanda cried out, ripping the throw pillow she had been anxiously crushing between her hands in two. Ever since he mentioned Linking to her, she had been a nervous wreck. His mother whimpered and hid behind her hands like a small child.
"Dearest, haven't I instructed you to keep your voice down when my mother's about?"
"Ain't my fault she's got the spine of a jellyfish!"
"I'm sorry, but I just can't 'elp it. People who raise their voices proper scare me, they do. I reckon I carried that trait over from my time as a Changeling. You see, both your father and I spent a bit o' time as 'umans on earth—not that I was all that strong, mind you, but Green-Fairies are known have the strongest magic. Back then, any shade of green in a fairy 'ad 'em Elders takin' all sorts of precautions. Anyway, as I was sayin', my time as a 'uman gave me quite a complex about loud voices—that's why I keep me voice nice and quiet, I do. 'Be as quiet as a mouse,' my 'uman mother would say. When you don't attract attention, you don't attract violence either."
"Warn't it yer counterpart who lived as a Changeling?" Anti-Wanda countered, her demeanor slightly different, less confused and more assured—far more like the regular Wanda. Not only that, but his wife, if she was completely in her normal state of mind, would cluelessly have asked them what a Changeling even was.
"Indeed, you are aware that an Anti-Fairy infant emerges seven weeks subsequent to their counterpart. In essence, a Fairy infant assumes a Fey state until the eventual separation transpires—explaining the tumultuous and precarious nature of their powers. During the era when it was still permissible for infant fairies to be transformed into Changelings, the divergence between fairy and anti-fairy remained latent until the Changeling reverted to its true form." He explained; the very fact that she seemed to be able to understand what he was saying was worrisome.
"Well, golly, how'd ya stumble upon all that info? You were as puzzled as a possum in a peach orchard afore Foop came 'round, wonderin' why there weren't no counterpart for Poof."
"It's called research, my dear." He brushed off her inquiry as quickly as he could; the conversation and the whole reason he had brought his mother here was getting sidetracked by meaningless drivel. "Let's get back on point, shall we? "Mother, it's imperative I ascertain the indications that Father was on the verge of transitioning into a Fey. I require a comprehensive briefing—every detail you can provide."
His mother looked like a dear caught in the headlights for several moments before she whimpered, wrapping her arms around her stomach and lowering her head miserably. "Yer not... please, tell me yer not gonna leave me like yer father did, are ya?"
"….." He sighed, patting his mother's hand reassuring her as she began crying.
"We Anti-fairies can't choose to merge with our other 'alves or not, we can't... if we could, I'd go to where yer father is, I miss 'im so much. It's only 'cause I 'ave you and yer brother 'ere with me that keeps me goin'. If either of you leave, then... what do I even 'ave left?"
He conjured up a handkerchief for her, and she used it to dab at her eyes. Her eyeliner and mascara were running down her cheeks to a clownish degree. Unknowingly, she then used the same handkerchief to blow her runny nose, causing the makeup to smear all over her face.
"It ain't him who's been Linkin' your simperin' twit! It's ME! I'm the one in danger of bein' wiped out by my counterpart!"
"Oh! Thank goodness! That's a proper relief, it is!" His mother's face broke out into the biggest smile he had ever seen.
"Ex-CUSE me!?" His wife looked literally ready to take his mother's neck into her hands; this temper was definitely not like her—his wife was incredibly laid back and not one to get angry unless someone or something tried her patience, of which she had very little.
"Civility ladies, civility!" He gave each of them a reprimanding look. "Mother, can you please just tell us all you remember about the days before and after father became a Fey?"
"W-well…" His mother huddled a little closer to him, as if hoping he could shield her from his wife's glare. He met Anti-Wanda eyes with his own warning glare for her to cut it out and she huffed, crossing her arms and looking away with a childish pout. Free from his wife's scowl, his mother spoke, nervously wringing the handkerchief in her hands.
"He'd always been a quiet, broodin' man... but then 'e started gettin' a bit more cheerful, a tad more outgoing. Yet, he also got much more idealistic and talkative. Sometimes, that 'appens when our Counterpart undergoes a change of disposition, so I didn't think much of it at first. But then... oh, that 'orrible temper started rearin' its head. 'E'd always been a passive sort, never resorted to violence, but... 'e became downright scary at times." She stopped talking for a moment and held both her hands up in protest. "Oh! Never to me, mind you! 'E was always a lovin', loyal, and true 'usband, 'e was. Cared for me like I was a Queen. I reckon 'is anger was rooted in Jullian and Julia—godkids of 'is counterpart. Night after night, 'e 'ad nightmares of 'em, 'e did. Worked on 'is nerves, somethin' awful."
"So father would have been aware that he was beginning to merge with his counterpart, then?"
"Oh, yes, 'e was, but... maybe it was 'cause as a Changelin', 'e 'ad experienced much of what 'is counterpart 'ad, and understood 'is actions and reasonin' to such a degree... that 'e agreed with what 'e was doin'—sav'in' those children."
"So….your saying that he did not even try to halt the process…."
"No, 'e did not. 'E even refrained from goin' to 'is counterpart about it 'cause 'e feared 'e might lower 'is resolve in doin' what needed to be done. I 'eld yer father as 'e faded away—he 'ad no regrets, besides leavin' me, but 'e says 'e was not fadin' away; 'e was just goin' back to bein' 'ow 'e 'ad been born, and when ya think of it—I first met 'im when we were both changelings, when we were both whole. So, as a Fey, 'e's my 'usband in the truest sense now. 'E did good, 'e did. If only my counterpart would agree to merge... I've begged 'er so many times, I 'ave."
"…I see."
"But it ain't like 'e vanished from me life right then and there. 'E 'ad blurred 'is presence so 'is counterpart wouldn't be too shocked by 'avin' become a Fey. 'E didn't want 'im to be shaken too badly and inadvertently reveal 'imself as 'ead of the operation. 'E was intent on gettin' as many abused children to the Fey world as possible, 'e was. But, eventually, Nova realized 'e was a Fey and was able to access all 'is memories—both of 'is Fairy self and Anti-Fairy self. 'E came back to me then, actin' like 'e always did, even usin' magic to look like 'is normal anti-self. It was like I 'adn't even lost 'im at all. 'E juggled livin' two lives seamlessly... then again, 'e 'ad always been mild-mannered, so no one in Anti-fairy world really ever took notice of 'im enough to think it strange when 'e went missin' for long periods of time."
"But what does all that mean for me!?" Anti-Wanda interrupted in a mixture of impatience and stress.
"It means that you don't have to worry about disapearing completely….you'd…combine; your memories would still be intact even if you did merge with your counterpart and as long as you retained your sense of self you could easily jump between being Wanda and the Anti-Wanda."
"But I ain't lookin' to be jumpin' 'tween bein' her and me, I just wanna be me!"
"It took quite a while for Nova to turn into a Fey, and 'e was pinchin' away children from earth! I doubt yer counterpart is doin' anythin' that extreme—sometimes Linkin' can 'appen 'cause of strong desires, but unless taboo actions are done over and over, nothin' will come of it."
His mother tried her best to sound reassuring, but he could easily tell by the expression on her face that she thought that his wife was overreacting. He wished she was right, but….Wanda, he wouldn't be surprised at all if her fixation with Timmy wasn't having her already considering breaking one of the taboos…or perhaps already doing so.
"What are these taboos…?" Anti Wanda asked, shaking nervously, biting on her nails.
"Directly offin' a 'uman in their care or a member of their family, or irreversibly alterin' 'em with magic, performin' the ritual of adoption by injectin' 'em with fairy blood, or..." His mother scrunched up her face in distaste. "Takin' or 'urtin' a 'uman soul—that's a big no-no."
…Even anti-fairies, who considered themselves amongst the evilest of all creatures, considered tampering with human souls an unforgiveable offense, something that crossed a line that no one ought to dare cross.
"Yes, indeed, Mother—but we're not inquiring about actions that would promptly transform her into a Fey—Wanda wouldn't be engaging in any of those."
"Well, takin' away lots of children was what caused yer father to become one. I s'pose maybe takin' a child that she's very emotionally attached to might be enough, but I still don't think simply tryin' to run away with her godchild would cause it... it would cause Linkin', but I doubt much more than that. She'd actually need to do somethin' taboo—the closest I can think is the ritual of adoption as a possibility if she gets desperate enough..."
"...She might opine that, given her profound affection for Timmy and his reciprocal sentiments, he would be among the rare 2% not to be destroyed by it." He shook his head in distaste; stupid woman could end up making herself a Fey and her godchild a twisted creature doomed to an eternity of suffering just because she did not want to let go of him.
"There's also the 'Symbiotic Fusion Ritual...'" His mother scrunched up her face, showing just how stupid she thought that particular option was.
That method was written about in the history books; in an attack by the Pixies, fairies had gotten hurt enough that their blood was drawn, something that normally could not happen unless they willed it so. Several godchildren had been hurt as well and their godparents who tended their injuries inadvertently mingled their blood…and that was how this taboo ritual was discovered.
The fairies and children all became Fey, but they were so weak that they were confined to bed, barely able to sit up on their own and the godparents, contaminated by the human blood, became not only weak, but incredibly sickly. Most of these children and fairies ended up becoming dust, but a few were still around…
"So is that what she's gonna do!?" Anti-Wanda shook even harder; his mother almost seemed a little satisfied at seeing the woman that usually made her tremble, looking so scared.
"Unless yer counterpart thinks spendin' a whole lifetime stuck to a bed, hardly breathin', almost turnin' to dust, just for a bit more time with 'er godson, I don't believe she'd be that daft—take note, she's yer complete opposite, ain't she? Bound to be a clever, sensible sort of woman, I'd say." His mother spoke sweetly even as she snuck in an insult that his wife was too preoccupied with her fears to take notice of.
"At this point…who knows what she might try?" He growled darkly.
….Yes, Wanda was supposed to be the smart one, wasn't she? So why….why did she have to go and forget the number one rule of godparenting—? Don't get too attached!
— Nova's POV —
"This was no breath from the skies whose motions and dimensions our astronomers measure or deem too vast to measure. It was just a colour out of space—a frightful messenger from unformed realms of infinity beyond all Nature as we know it; from realms whose mere existence stuns the brain and numbs us with the black extra-cosmic gulfs it throws open before our frenzied eyes." Wanda finished reading the paragraph; her pronunciation and volume were loud and clear, though, perhaps it was just the quality of her voice, but she reminded him a bit of an old-fashioned school-mistress when she read.
Throughout the story she and her godson had read alternating paragraphs, and while Timmy's ADHD did manifest itself in ways, such as sometimes re-reading the same sentence, or needing Wanda to show him where to start reading from—he'd say the boy was doing a good job and it was clear that Wanda had put in much effort in helping the boy come this far.
"I doubt very much if Ammi consciously lied to me, and I do not think his tale was all a freak of madness as the townfolk had forewarned." Timmy's reading was slower and more measured than Wanda's as he sometimes stumbled over pronunciation, but he was very lively and expressive in his recitals—which sometimes might have been responsible for a few of his mistakes. "Something terrible came to the hills and valleys on that meteor, and something terrible—though I know not in what proportion—still remains."
This was nice, he thought, comfortable by the fire as he sipped some tea. Watching and listening to a mother and child read a book together was surprisingly pleasant. He had no memories of reading books with his sons, so this was new to him. Schnozmo had been too fidgety to sit still and had hated story time, and Cosmo was still a baby when he was taken away to Fey world.
He would never have thought that such a simple thing could be so fulfilling; and even though the story they were reading was a horror, the room was filled with a sense of tranquillity and peace. The terrifying words of the story came out from the lips of mother and child as though they were a soothing lullaby.
He had missed out on so much precious moments with his family he'd never get back, but his sacrifices had saved so many little children so as much as he was left with sadness, he had no regrets and that he could experience this moment with his daughter-in-law and little god grandson was something he was grateful for.
Observing Timmy nestled contentedly at Wanda's side, he couldn't help but be drawn to the boy. He felt a warmth in his heart that transcended the simple role of an onlooker. As someone who had avidly studied child psychology, his mind naturally delved into the complexities of Timmy's behavior. Timmy really did act much too young for a 12-year-old, but he recognized the behavior as a poignant narrative of coping mechanisms emerging in response to the adversities of neglect, ADHD, and bullying.
His regressive tendencies seemed to be a retreat to a more comforting space, a sanctuary away from the harsh realities of his young life. Timmy's attachment to his godmother, Wanda, became the focal point of his contemplation. With a deepening grandfatherly affection for Timmy, Nova marveled at the transformative power of Wanda's compassion and patience. Her role as an emotional support pillar had created a haven for Timmy—a place where he felt secure and valued. He was proud to call her his daughter-in-law. Without her compassion and understanding, this little boy's spirit would have turned to ash by now.
In their tender relationship, he saw the blossoming of reciprocal love and care, a vital foundation for any child's emotional development. He pondered whether Timmy's mental regression, in the warmth of Wanda's embrace, was not just an escape but a form of emotional restoration. It seemed to be a means for the boy to reclaim the nurturing experiences he had been deprived of in his formative years. As he considered these facets, he couldn't help but appreciate the resilient spirit within Timmy. The world shunned him, beat him down, and crushed him every chance it got, and yet he endured because he loved and was loved by his godmother.
But what would happen when Wanda was removed from his side? Be it from accidentally revealing his fairies or simply growing too old, someday the council and their puppet Jorgen would force Wanda to leave him. It didn't matter if he still needed her or not. As he was now, Timmy could very well end up like his poor Julia. He absolutely couldn't let that happen. If he couldn't convince Wanda to join them, he'd have to take the boy by force. His daughter-in-law might hate him for a while, but she'd come around when she realized just what kind of fate would await her boy after she was gone from his life. She would thank him for saving her precious Timmy from ending up like his poor little Julia.
"—when the reservoir gang gets to work, I must write the chief engineer to keep a sharp watch on him. I would hate to think of him as the grey, twisted, brittle monstrosity which persists more and more in troubling my sleep…" Timmy finished the story and looked directly at him with his expression shining. "So, what did you think of it? Super spooky, right? Like, just a weird color being able to do all that stuff? I wonder what kind of color it looked like? I dunno, what do you think it could have looked like?"
"Well…" He hummed thoughtfully. "Contemplating a color that is non-existent is a difficult task. It is conceivable that only a mantis shrimp would be able to respond to that query."
"A mantis shrimp?"
"In comparison to the three photoreceptor cells found in humans, they possess a remarkable 16 types of cells solely responsible for color vision. Their visual acuity encompasses ultraviolet light, which lies beyond the realm of human vision. Consequently, their color palette exceeds that of humans." He explained, thrilled at the opportunity to teach the child something, even if it was useless trivia.
"Whoa, that sounds so cool!"
"No, no, no…" He wagged his finger as he guessed at the boy's thought process. "Do not get any ideas of wishing for the same eyesight of one of those cute little crustaceans—The human brain is not accustomed to processing the vast amount of information that comes with an expanded color spectrum. The sudden exposure to new colors would lead to acute sensory overload."
"Awww…."
"Oh, sweetie, how about special glasses that can make it seem as if you're looking through the eyes of a mantis shrimp? That way, your brain isn't being rewired, and the moment it gets too overwhelming, you can just take off the glasses?" Wanda suggested and Timmy grinned.
"That's a good idea!"
He laughed; oh, how fun this was! He had always dreamed of having family-time in this quaint little cafe; which was why, even when it fell out of use, he used his magic to maintain it. He was glad he had, for this had been worth it—talking out their differences, playing games, taking fun photos, reading together and having a fun little chitchat…
Such simple family activities….he had missed them so much. Wanda might have hated the comparison, but she really did remind him a bit of Stella at least during her younger years, and Timmy…..he was so much like his lost Julia….
…If he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend he had gone back in time to before his heart had been irreparably broken.