Fairy Godmother sighed, keeping her eyes closed so she didn't have to watch the perky green dress walking around her in repetitive circles. "I don't know why you're bothering. If you can all hear each other, my inability to do the same will give me away for sure. So it doesn't matter if you...give me a new talent, whatever that means. Though this...alchemic twist... Well, it sounds very much like what I do."
She paused as her hair suddenly fell loose, cascading down her back. "I don't recall giving you permission for a complete makeover," she grumped, and opened her eyes. Instead of seeing the kid fairy, she found herself looking at her own reflection. Except, instead of her glitzy red gown, perfect for a celebrity's party, she saw that she had been clothed in leaves. But the white leaves, wrapping around her body and ending in jagged points below her knees, were not held together with stitches as she expected; rather, they appeared to be held in place only by tiny flowers. Flowers that were, in her original form, impossibly little. (But she sensed that was going to be a theme―a dreadfully long-lasting one, if she didn't arrive back home within the week. There were so many things she had been planning to put to order, and much as she loved her son, she didn't think he could handle it all, certainly not the magical proportion of the list. But, that was probably her fault.) Intrigued by her reflection, she stepped closer. Why, she looked like a young woman again! Well, almost. A beautiful woman with a lot of wisdom, more like. Her arms were more exposed than she'd have preferred, but she had the plunging neckline like she liked it...and at least the hem was long. It was quite nice, even if white was not her color.
"I'll admit, you do impressive work... Even if it is all for naught."
Tinkerbell began to write then, and as it became clear her message was not pithy, Fairy Godmother emitted a soft sigh and looked about the world's littlest bedroom. Or not―suddenly it dawned on her that all houses were the same size, carefully measured out by generations and generations of handymen. These beings had books, worldly knowledge... Even if she was wrong, and they had never once been human, they clearly learned from the human race. Watching them, mimicking them, evolving with them. If they had never once been human, they were clearly intelligent enough to have started a long time ago. They were more advanced than ogres, not that they raised the bar very high. Perhaps she could even go so far as to say they were more advanced than some humans...? They did, after all, one way or another, have the most in common with her. Surely that said enough.
Finally the kid spun her notepad around. In one chunk of text, it read: You drew a lot of attention when I took you to the tree. If you need to leave, it's okay, but we don't need the Scouts sentencing you to jail or death to protect Pixie Hollow. My people are divided, believing all sorts of things about you. Nothing good.
Below it was the addendum: The queen is definitely not married. Probably best not to talk about it.
"Sunshine," Fairy Godmother said, in a suddenly grave tone. "I just left her daughter's wedding ball. Now if you don't mind, all this walking and flying blind has me at a total loss and I don't know where I saw the royal tower!" she huffed in one breath, and paused at the bewildered expression Little Miss Green Dress wore. "You know, the tall dark tower with a circular clock on it, glowing orange?"
This time the message was quickly written, You mean Big Ben?
"No, I mean the clock at the king and queen's palace. Soon to be inherited by the ogre, I presume... Oh, dear."
Tinkerbell held up both hands, palms out, and then extended a pointing finger to request she wait awhile. Fairy Godmother sighed again and told her, "I'll give you ten minutes before I take your advice and bugger out of here!"
Green Dress left, the door shutting between them one of the only two noises she had heard her make. It had finally stopped raining, and Fairy Godmother went to the window, watching the kid fairy fly into... Pixie Hollow. She quietly uttered the name of the village, staring into the village long after it was abandoned.
The urgency of the situation had Tinkerbell disregarding not boundaries, not warnings, but rather all care as she burst into the Dust Depot, hastily apologizing to Bobble as she narrowly avoided smacking him with the door. Instead of pushing all other things aside to ensure his well-being, as she would have normally done, she flew onwards to the Dust Belt, where Dust Keepers still worked to portion pixie dust. Finding Zarina, who had gone back to her pre-pirate style, she aimed for her and yelled out her name, effectively getting the attention of all. "Zarina, I need to talk to you!"
"Okay," Zarina said hesitantly, and kept on bagging dust like she, the alchemist, had been tamed; like there were no inventions on her mind.
"Alone. Away. From here."
Zarina's eyes moved past Tinkerbell, and she watched Terence motion bitterly to her as he spoke to Fairy Gary, who nodded in acknowledgment of his words but gave Zarina the green light. She looked back at Tinkerbell and sighed, clapping dust off her palms. "Just for a little while. I am working here, Tink."
"A little awhile, I promise."
"Uh―" Zarina blinked as Tinkerbell took off, leaving a cloud of dust in her wake. Shaking her head, she followed the glittery trail out of the Dust Depot. And into Pixie Hollow's hospital. She emerged with a doctor before Zarina could go in after her.
"Tinkerbell, what is this?" Zarina demanded.
"Well, if it all goes right...a rescue," she answered, and began flying homeward. As the other two caught up to her, she continued, "Oh, one more thing. I'm not supposed to have her here. Long story."
"Condense it," the doctor ordered.
"Oh. Okay, uh, she looks like us, acts like a human, and nobody knew about her, so the Queen told me to keep her away from Pixie Hollow. Then Fawn decided to brief the Scouts, and I thought, nobody would look in the one place the Queen told me not to put her. I mean," she attempted a chuckle, "What kind of idiot disobeys the Queen?"
"The kind who gave a baby squirrel a goose egg, perhaps," the doctor suggested.
Tinkerbell frowned in displeasure and Zarina uttered a sigh of great restraint.
Landing in front of her house, Tinkerbell opened the door and motioned her company in first. Sitting in boredom at the dining table, Fairy Godmother jumped up as two strangers entered the fairy house.
"I do wish you'd have let me grab my kit!"
"Trust me, you don't need it to diagnose this weirdo."
The doctor turned her intense, analytical blue eyes to the mysterious stranger.
"You brought me a doctor?" Fairy Godmother asked. Again, her words may as well have gone unspoken―another dreaded theme.
"How does this intellect act like a human?" the doctor asked.
"Because she can't hear you."
"You tore me out of the office to diagnose deafness in an elder?"
"She can also fly in the rain! Wet wings don't bother her. And she has no idea where she is. And look!" Tinkerbell exclaimed, going to the table. She retrieved the list of her side of their earlier conversation, showing it to them. "She thinks Queen Clarion is married. Swears up and down she just left her daughter's wedding."
Fairy Godmother didn't need to understand their words to know she didn't like the look on the doctor's face. Lifting up Tinkerbell's list, the doctor sighed and addressed her. "Okay, first of all, you're a hypocrite," she pointed out. "Second of all, the office is very busy and all my patients are waiting on you now. Third... I can't diagnose this," she concluded, now lowering her tone to speak in an indoor voice.
"Fine, you can grab your kit! I'll try and convince her to stay."
"First of all," the doctor repeated, obviously annoyed, "Why not just bring her to the office? Second, I don't think my kit is going to make a difference here." She shrugged and motioned to Fairy Godmother without looking away from Tinkerbell's curious, steady eyes. "This is beyond strange."
"Or it's beyond you and I should've grabbed a different doctor."
The doctor smiled then, tilting her head. "Cute! I'll remember that if ever you break your leg."
The doctor flew out of the pixie house, and Fairy Godmother cringed as Tinkerbell slammed the door with such force that the walls rattled.
"So," Zarina finally said, awkwardly. "Why am I here?"
"Oh. Because you need to give her a talent."
"She doesn't have one?"
"Nope. And I... I also need you to pretend we don't know what it is when we have the talent show."
"Oh," Zarina repeated. "Uh, okay, lucky for you, you're not the only one who makes questionable choices," she admitted, and suddenly took out of hiding a belt with several little bags hanging from it. "Ask her what magical quality she wants to have."
Tinkerbell wrote it down, and Fairy Godmother looked insulted as she met her eyes and proclaimed, "I am a magical being!"
What can you do? Tinkerbell wrote.
"Well, nearly anything, dear; I am the Fairy Godmother after all," she boasted, and took in their blank faces. "Oh―sweet peas! It's my official moniker."
"Uh, does she know Sweet Pea?" Zarina murmured grimly.
"I thought she didn't know anything!"
Zarina turned her back to Fairy Godmother, whose eyes quickly went to her large, undeniable wings. "Tink, maybe you should...let the Scouts handle this."
"The Queen asked me to handle this."
"And even obeying her, you're disobeying her."
"If the Scouts meet her, they'll sentence her to jail or death. They won't sleep until I've failed."
Zarina was quiet as she reached into a bag at random and threw a fistful of dust on Fairy Godmother; Tinkerbell watched the golden sparkles fade as Zarina reattached her belt, carefully tucking it back into secrecy. Opening the front door, she glanced over her shoulder and finally, emptily said, "Maybe there is no right answer," before letting herself out.
"You mind telling me what in Grimm's name just happened?"
Tinkerbell obediently picked up her notes. You can bend light now, she wrote.
"I can what?"
Tinkerbell pointed at the window where sunlight streamed in freely, then walked over to the window and moved her hand ineffectively through the rays before motioning for Fairy Godmother to do the same. Sighing, Fairy Godmother joined her at the window, stuck her hand into the light―and Tinkerbell stumbled back as a ray of light struck her in both eyes. "Oww!"
Fairy Godmother instinctively put a hand on the kid fairy's shoulder, distractedly moving her illuminated hand and watching the light bend as Tinkerbell fiercely rubbed her eyes. Even though it felt solid under her hands, the light must not have been a tangible force, because the little green dress hadn't died, so there was that. Tinkerbell dropped her hands, but still blinked bright spots from her eyes as Fairy Godmother continued to explore her new gift. It was so bizarre, so strange and amazing, to play with light! This was a level of magic she had never dreamed of. The question was, how could she make it work to her advantage?
"Wait...wait." Fairy Godmother pulled her hand out of the sunlight, looking at Tinkerbell with confusion in her eyes. "If this isn't your talent, how many are there?"
"Too many to count," Tinkerbell muttered, and was reaching for her pen when Fairy Godmother inquisitively repeated after her. Tinkerbell nodded.
"Well, I suppose that's intriguing, long as counting is also one of the talents you possess."
Tinkerbell scoffed, wondering how a grown woman could be so condescending. All of Pixie Hollow was pretty much tight; Vidia could get a little grumpy, but so could she. Couldn't anyone? The important thing was being able to move past it, be friends again... But this woman gave her a bad feeling. Not just because she wasn't bothered by wet wings, not just because she didn't have a talent, not just because her official name was a title, and not just because nobody had any record of her arrival as though she had not been born of a baby's first laugh... Although that was certainly cause for concern! But no, it was in the way she spoke, the way she moved―the way her eyes seemed to reflect not light, but darkness. But, maybe she was just tired. Maybe she was imagining it all.
But all she wrote was, If you see fairies with striped sleeves and pants, make sure they see you bending light. She underlined sure twice before letting Fairy Godmother see her note.
"And pretend I can't fly in the rain?"
Tinkerbell nodded, all the while hoping dearly that her friends wouldn't betray her. Or this woman.
"Thanks for looking out for me, kiddo. If you ever see me again, I plan on being much too tall to fit back in here."
Tinkerbell's eyebrows went up with intrigue. The curtains were still drawn, so Fairy Godmother didn't notice the weather until she opened the door. Groaning, she stepped onto the front porch, hoping it would be high enough to see the courtyard of Harold's castle―or Big Ben, if she was going to be inconspicuous. Of course it wasn't, so she walked aimlessly through the pixie village. From the ground, from this height, all the buildings looked to be normal size, perfectly proportioned to her real body. The flowers, humans, ogres, and horses were her only clues that she had been shrunk down. Incredible...
Aimlessly and endlessly, she walked, eventually leaving the village and spotting several fairies. All dressed alike, in yellow, they milled around in the grass, rearranging shafts of light. The tempo of the rain had increased, but the sun barely shone, and they were directing the beams to shine on flowers. They were all so meticulous, working so slowly and patiently to make sure that not a single ray of light looked out of place.
Holding an umbrella constructed by one leaf and two sticks poking through each end, a fairy with stern brown eyes, long black hair, and stripes on her sleeves and leggings trailed slowly after Fairy Godmother.
"Hey, Nyx," Iridessa called up to her.
"Busy," the Scout yelled back. Fawn had said she couldn't hear any of them, so she wasn't worried. And if she saw her and fled... Well, she would stop her. She would have all of Pixie Hollow to answer to. That much was certain; the question was, did she have anything to be sorry for?
A piercing cry came from above, and Fairy Godmother barely had time to recognize the sound before suddenly fairies were scattering all around. The only one flying, the prey closest to the predator, Nyx felt her blood run cold as she looked up, wasting valuable time as she wished her leaf was transparent. The cursed rain was falling at an angle; she couldn't lower her umbrella to see the danger without falling to the ground. It would hurt, a lot, and she would likely break bones. If she broke her legs, and her wings were wet, the weapons in her bag might not be enough to save her life. But, before she could die dwelling on it, she heard the dreaded approach―wings flapping, as the screech came again loud. In a moment of panic, Nyx startled. Her body jerked. At the same instant she moved the leaf, her bag of weapons fell to the ground, with a muffled thud and a clatter that scared Fairy Godmother who stood nearby. Fairy Godmother spun to look at the weapons until something much more interesting fell from the sky; a fairy.
She didn't notice the stripes; the fairy's hair hid everything but her wings and hands as she reached up in a fruitless endeavor to fight the hawk. Its beak was bigger than her entire body, and that didn't even necessarily make it a big bird! Its eyes blazed with hunger and anger as it attempted to peck the fairy to death in one swoop. The fairy rolled back, catching a blurred glimpse of the fairy the Queen had explicitly ordered to stay out of Pixie Hollow―the fairy who had broken into Tinkerbell's house right after the fact. Nyx rolled again out of harm's way and patted blindly for her bag, not realizing in her fog of terror that was far out of reach. She even managed a kick to the hawk's face, but to the much bigger and stronger bird, it probably felt like a fly bouncing off its cheek. Her panic kept her from realizing the sun was peeking out again, as her mind raced with all the fairies she wished she could say goodbye to, her heart broken by the realization she never would. Then, all at once, light― the blinding light of the sun―blasted into the hawk's eyes. Automatically, the hawk withdrew, and, realizing the pesky fairy would not relent, retreated into the air, its screeches of pain fading into silence. Almost immediately, the distorted shafts of light dissipated and the rain continued to fall.
Already muddied up all over, Nyx didn't lunge up to wipe herself off. Her dignity had been eradicated completely. Instead, she swiveled on the ground to examine her rescuer, the outlaw. Couldn't she only be one, or the other? In her jagged dress, with her messy hair, she sort of resembled Zarina―just with a longer hem, blue eyes, and silver hair suggestive of an elder. But she didn't look old, per se. Strangest thing; she was a Light fairy, who resembled a Winter fairy.
Fairy Godmother kicked the bag closer to its misplaced owner, barely making eye contact before she turned and walked away, forcing her wings to droop as had the kid fairy's when she had been bogged down. Wondering if Fawn was quite simply misinformed, or more likely keeping another dangerous secret, Nyx slung her bag back onto her back and watched the mysterious Light fairy depart.
"Hey," she called out. "Wait!"
And her eyes narrowed in suspicion as the fairy went on as though she hadn't heard her at all. Pausing long enough to adjust her bag so it was comfortable again, she stepped over her now-useless umbrella and ran after the fairy, darting out in front of her and putting a hand on her shoulder. "Can't you hear me?"
Fairy Godmother brushed back her errant, saturated hair, observing the stripes on the fairy's arms. Suddenly missing the company of Green Dress, she darted past the fairy and ran into the forest, wondering how she would protect herself without her wand. However, all thought fled her brain as a sharp weapon lodged into the tree beside her, rattling like a doorstop in the otherwise peaceful woods. Fairy Godmother spun to see the fairy she had saved―her attacker―appearing to grimace in pain as she stepped into the woods. All of the muted light was behind her, making her clear wings take on a dull red hue. The closer she came, slowly, to Fairy Godmother, the darker she became, until she was an ominous, winged silhouette; a bag of weapons poking off her back in deadly, obscure shapes.
Quaking in terror, Fairy Godmother did to the fairy what she had done to the hawk, grabbing the nearest beam of light and aiming it into her eyes. Nyx stopped cold as her entire world went white, and all she was aware of was the instant headache. Gasping, she lowered her hand, watching the brilliance fade against her eyelids. Tentatively, she opened her eyes. And found herself standing alone in the forest.
Tinkerbell had given all the Scouts a creative and practical invention she had called a shiner. Teaming up with Iridessa and Fawn, they had stored sunlight inside flower stems that had been ripped off the rest of the plants. They had pinched the flower stem at one end and stuck the ball of light onto a cobweb to make it stick. Hanging weightlessly off the cobweb when the invention was held upright, and sitting weightlessly on it when the invention was held upside-down, it was very practical in lighting one's way in the dark. The Scouts always packed them in their bags. Taking it out and shining it on the forest floor, Nyx learned that the fairy had not left any footprints on the forest floor...in any direction.
Her footsteps squished as she traipsed out of the woods, looking up at the rain as she vied for a glimpse of an anomaly―a fairy, flying into the storm. But whichever way she went, she was long gone. Whoever she was. Whatever she was...
Grunting in effort and sighing in disgust, Fairy Godmother continued ripping cobwebs off her body. At least from this vantage point, she knew which direction Stripes had gone. Finally tearing off the last sticky piece, she flew slowly backwards, looking at the damage she had done to the absent spider's home before flying in the opposite direction of the Scout. Thank goodness her pain had interfered. Did she always kill the people who lent a helping hand?
This time watching where she was going, she flew over the tree tops and out of the woods before letting her mind wander. Now that she was out of imminent danger, she didn't so much miss Green Dress. She just missed her son, and all the power she was supposed to have. She missed her house, her work. The way people turned to her for answers, advice, and help fixing their shoddy, sorrowful lives. She didn't like being small and useless. And she could not stand being the only fairy in the world who didn't know how being a fairy worked. She was supposed to be the guiding light. These creatures were not supposed to have more wisdom... Frankly she didn't even like that they had powers, too.
She needed to be special. She had finally, finally, been special and now it was gone again! How could she even get out of bed if she had lost everything she had fought for, everything she had already cried for?
Although, she supposed she first needed to get a bed in order to get out of one. Her already blurred vision was further compromised when she began to cry. She took a single beat to wipe her eyes―and smacked into something. Or rather, someone. Someone with stripes on her sleeves and leggings. Like the one who had been under feathery attack, she wore an unflattering brown outfit with a green leaf around her waist. The stripes were the same and she, too, wore a stern expression like it was part of the uniform, like it helped them do their jobs. That is where the similarities stopped. This one had a blonde ponytail and blue eyes. Actually, she might resemble Green Dress, if they wore similar clothes and had lives that were equally happy (or equally miserable).
Fairy Godmother deflated a little with a sigh. "How many of you are there?" she mumbled.
Chase found herself in a predicament; she couldn't apprehend the outlaw without getting soaked. Even then, the fairy could fly in the rain, apparently... The very evidence was supposed to be impossible. Fawn might have gone against the rules and Tinkerbell might have, too. But... Iridessa? Rosetta?
Seeing her hedge, Fairy Godmother darted up over the Scout's head, grabbing onto her umbrella and ripping it. Rain peltered the pretty Scout and she dropped quickly to land on a water lily below, with a yelp of surprise. Blinking in the rain falling on her face, she saw this fairy, hovering in the rain defying nature. Lightning rippled through the sky, illuminating her clearly and letting her know she was not crazy; then the outlaw fairy flew away. Stymied but not defenseless, Chase grabbed the whistle around her neck.
Fairy Godmother, at first, didn't pay the whistle any attention; she didn't think it concerned her. Until four Scouts―including Nyx―were suddenly closing in.
Hiding again from her weakness under her umbrella, Nyx looked down at Chase, climbing to her feet. "Net her!"
"I'll net you all!"
"Do it!"
With silent movements quick as lightning, Chase had launched a net, capturing one outlaw and four Scouts. They would have been able to hold the net and still fly around, all trapped together, had the net not pushed the umbrellas out of their hands. They fell like five flies, and using some kind of rope and some kind of knowledge, Chase redirected the net onto a flower.
As Fairy Godmother wrestled in vain with the net, she suddenly felt a painful prick in her neck, and looked over into Bird Girl's scary brown eyes.
"Sleep tight," Nyx said, and suddenly too exhausted to try and read her lips, Fairy Godmother felt her knees give out from under her. Unsure what was happening, she blearily realized that she was suddenly on her back; then the faces of four angry fairies blurred terribly before everything began going dark...