Zarina expected to see Nyx when she answered the door, but the prisoner's face was a surprise. "Hello," she said, her eyes hesitantly flicking to the new arrival's, then she began extending a hand. In the middle of saying "Nice to meet you," she realized that her hands were still bound, and tried covering her attempt at a handshake by instead smoothing her already immaculate updo, feeling her face heat with embarrassment. "Uh, I'm Zarina, by the way."
"Dama Fortuna. It's very nice to meet you, dear."
"Can we?" Nyx asked impatiently, and when the Dust Keeper stepped aside, the Scout pulled her prisoner into the house behind her.
Fairy Godmother looked around the home, void of anyone else with striped sleeves. "Where are all the other... Scouts?" she asked, her voice only sneering a little.
"They are otherwise engaged," Nyx's firm voice interrupted Zarina's sweet words.
Fairy Godmother gave a soft, insincere chuckle. "If you don't trust me enough to answer one simple question, why did you untie me?"
"You doubt my ability to handle myself?"
"Oh, no, you're quite able to defend yourself―from those with any measurable bone density." Her soft voice did nothing to dispel the condescension in her tone. "It's only one with zero mass that is a formidable opponent."
She turned her eyes back to Zarina, pointedly ignoring the red flush on the face of the furious Scout. "So what is on the official calendar for today then? Because I sure didn't get taken hostage to play poker."
"You got taken hostage because nobody trusts you," Nyx's sharp voice brought her attention back. "I untied you so you can begin earning our trust."
"Oh, sweetheart. I don't want your trust."
"Then you need to reconsider, because you," Nyx scoffed, shaking her head, "Are in a lot of danger."
Her mere intent to warn and assist the winged human, in a desperate ploy to get her away from Pixie Hollow for good, went unheeded; instead, Fairy Godmother felt a foreboding chill as she remembered that she was five inches tall, with no magic, no minions, and no way home. No son, no hope, not a pillow to cry in. Odd, how easy it was to forget―for when she remembered, it was always with a sickening sadness, of an intensity she had never known. Realizing quickly it would be most unwise to make instant enemies with the one law enforcement this strange little civilization had, she turned to face the head Scout. "And what danger is that?" she asked, her voice still deceptively soft.
Nyx thought for a second, asking, "How tall were you before you shrank?"
"Uh..." Fairy Godmother looked up at the ceiling. "Let's just say I'd have to go outside to demonstrate."
"Bigger than a cat?"
"Indeed. I could've held a cat in one hand."
Nyx tried to absorb that bombshell while simultaneously circling back to her point; it kind of felt to her like flying in the wind. "Okay, well, now you're the same size as the rest of us. Now hawks... They don't really care if you have a talent or not. To them, you blend right in. To them, you're a tasty little treat, just like us. You still think you can fend off a bird in that little body?" she asked, and held open the door. "Go ahead. Please."
Fairy Godmother scoffed, then began to walk towards her, as if getting ready to leave. Instead, she stopped in front of her, and asked, "If you remember, I spared your life earlier, and it was certainly not from a ladybug."
Nyx's eyebrows went up. "Do the two of you speak often?" she asked, motioning to them both.
"No. Suppose I've had the most words with, uh... Tinkerbell." She would never get used to that name. "Why?"
"Just...nothing."
"Can you close that, please?" Zarina asked, rubbing her arms. "You're letting in a draft."
Nyx slammed the door, and Fairy Godmother took that as her cue to hastily remove her hand. "Fine," she bit, reluctantly holding Fairy Godmother's steady blues. "You saved my life. I remember. I was the one in need, and you did my job―but don't you get used to it. You've just arrived and you got lucky. You don't know anything about 'blending in' here. Hawks aren't going to avoid you now. You're dinner... To hawks and cats. You don't want to be trapped in this little body? The first step is learning how to survive in it."
"Which brings me to my question," Zarina interjected. "Do you want to keep being a Light talent? Because you can learn how to be a Scout."
Fairy Godmother didn't have to think long. She scoffed. "The Scout beside me couldn't even protect herself. What kind of talent is that?"
"I was compromised."
"Yes, the rain," she recalled, and bravely added, "You're pathetic! Come on, my dear," she added in Zarina's direction. "Have you no intelligence at all? Try whipping up a concoction that allows you people to fly in the rain!"
"I never thought of that," Zarina murmured. "Think it could work?"
"Not in the vial."
Zarina was suddenly assembling bowls and bottles. Nyx watched her for a moment, then turned to Fairy Godmother. "You realize if you call me pathetic, you're calling all of us pathetic?"
Fairy Godmother didn't look up from her own task. "Well, sunshine, then I guess I'm calling you all pathetic."
"That is a very bold assertion to..." But Nyx's cold response died off as the harsh ray of sunlight Fairy Godmother had grabbed began to make the rope sizzle on her wrists. When the ties that bound them together fell to the floor with a thump, Fairy Godmother sighed in relief and raised her hands, making Nyx tense automatically.
And her hands went up to her hair, which she quickly fashioned into an elegant updo with a practiced motion. "Now... Don't you have more colors in the garden?"
"I think the fashion show can wait."
"I saved your life," Fairy Godmother reminded her. "Perhaps it's not my fault if I haven't earned your trust."
Nyx sighed, motioning to the door and following her to it. "You know, you're a real pain in the neck."
"Oh, it's not me you're feeling, dear; it's my needle."
"Untrustworthy felon, meet our Garden fairy," Nyx said, with a definite chill in her voice. "Garden fairy, meet untrustworthy felon. I'm going to leave her with you now, because... I really can't stand either one of you," Nyx said simply. She turned and flew off.
Rosetta looked at Fairy Godmother, unable to hide her grimace. "Great. 'Course I get to babysit the black hat."
"I can hear you."
Rosetta's scowl deepened. "Oh... Well, she coulda given me a heads-up."
"Garden fairy, eh? I'm surprised she listened to me. Very well, I'd like some of those flowers," Fairy Godmother pointed.
Rosetta just stared at her.
"Today, if you don't mind."
"Wait a minute―you want me to dig them up? I can't. Sorry, I don't like the dirt."
"Oh, for goodness sake," Fairy Godmother sighed. She knelt and uprooted a miniature version of a buttercup. Even in her five-inch form, it fit on one palm. "You know, I'm not exactly fond of the filth, either. Just tell me if you're also too useless to lend me matching fabric," she snarked.
"All'a my clothes are pink."
Fairy Godmother's prim scowl returned. "That is very disturbing," she said succinctly.
"Look, you want yellow fabric, you're gonna have to go to a Light fairy."
Which was how Fairy Godmother was reacquainted with Iridessa. After flying with Rosetta to the Light fairy's house, she got the fabric and started cutting it to her liking, while Iridessa watched in dismay. Cutting the neckline down and creating a discreet slit in the sides of the hem, she then locked herself into the bathroom to get dressed. When she emerged, the simple yellow fabric had been transformed, and now, somehow, sparkled with flashing, pale yellow specks. In the blink of an eye, she had somehow transformed from a tired prisoner to, well, someone who looked like she belonged at a celebrity's party again. The fabric was secured, with no need for flowers to mystically hold it in place―not that she understood how Tinkerbell had done that anyhow. Instead, she had fashioned herself a pair of buttercup petal slippers.
"Uh, that's...amazing." Iridessa blinked in fascination. "But, don't you think it's a little...um, unique?"
Fairy Godmother let out a soft, bitter laugh. "Oh, darling, that's entirely the point."
"How did you even do that? I don't have any sequins."
"No, but you do have a window in your bathroom. It's sunlight," she clarified, at the poor girl's lost expression.
"Alright," Iridessa said uncertainly. "If you want to stand out, you're off to a good start."
"How could I ever fit in here―and why would I want to? I was literally captured for minding my own business. Your people made up their minds about me, and my actions didn't matter. The people you count on for protection are punishing me for living," she added. "What makes you think I like it here?"
Iridessa tilted her head in acknowledgement. "I'll raise it with the Scouts."
"Oh, don't bother. I'm only here to find a way back home. I need to get back to my son."
"You can procreate?"
Well, technically she hadn't, but that wasn't important. Incredulously, she asked, "You can't?"
"No. I mean, at least I've never met a fairy mom or a fairy dad before." She shrugged, and no-nonsensically added, "We're born of a baby's first laugh."
Fairy Godmother was discreet again as she pinched her hand, to see if she was dreaming. Dropping her hands, she shook her head. "This is too strange," she said, and went to the front door. "Thank you for the dress and the hospitality."
She shut the door, walking down the steps and feeling crushed by the weight of...a flower, apparently.
"Hey," the soft, charming voice got her attention, and she turned to find Acorn Hat approaching, with respectful reserve. "Dama Fortuna, right? I'm Terence."
Well, that was better than Acorn Hat. Was she the only one who cared about how she looked? What on earth was Tinkerbell thinking with those cotton balls on her feet anyway? It looked absolutely absurd.
"It's always nice to welcome a new face to Pixie Hollow. Are you hungry?"
"I am," which surprised her; she thought she'd be tasting that one cherry for the rest of her life.
"Great. I have some food here; I can take it to your house."
"I-I don't have a house here."
"Au contraire. The building talent guild completed it while you were, uh..."
She raised a silver brow at him. "Incarcerated?"
"I was going to say busy. Come on," he added, "I'll show you the way."
He went to a cart nearby, ladeled with housewarming gifts of food, the majority of which looked like entire plates of desserts. She was eyeballing it as she approached him.
"What's wrong?"
"It's just a strange way to treat an 'untrustworthy felon,'" she answered, not even bothering to keep the chilly sarcasm from her voice.
"You know what they say; 'Keep your enemies close.'" He began to rotate the cart, and she walked alongside him.
"A building talent guild," she said, not even bothering to defend herself. "You all are limited to one talent?"
"I take it humans aren't."
"No, and neither are animals. In fact, I personally had the displeasure of making the acquaintance of one animal in particular, who learned how to speak English."
She was telling him about the ogres, and the offensive impact they had on her life, when a large shadow fell over them. They heard a few scattered screams― and then their lives were plunged into chaos. Having been attracted to the town by her shiny dress, a hawk swooped past, the wind from its wings knocking both Fairy Godmother and Terence backward, and sending everything on the cart to the cobblestone path with a resounding clatter.
His clothes spattered with frosting, Terence got up with the intent to run into the nearest house; seeing Fairy Godmother's refusal to bow down to a bird, he froze in place, not knowing what to do.
The hawk stomped closer. Its feet were fat, their tops almost as high as her waist, and with claws perhaps longer than she was. But she would not back down. She would not be afraid of something with hollow bones... And anyway, even with the clouds that had rolled in, it wasn't like she was unarmed. Grabbing a fistful of her dress, she shone light into the beast's eyes. It withdrew, screeching horribly.
Not overly concerned with the residents of Pixie Hollow, she issued a self-serving command, taking several determined, unwavering steps closer to the bird. "Leave me alone!"
With one last squawk of pain, the bird flew blindly away. Fairy Godmother returned the speck of light to her dress, then put her hands on her hips, wondering at the sense of her growing hatred of things with wings. But all she said was, "Oh, I'm definitely keeping this talent."
What would a Tinker do―create the world's smallest violin and play it at their funeral?
A fairy began to clap, and it spread until everybody was applauding. Well, almost everyone. On her way to Iridessa's house for a visit, Fawn turned right back around and flew away.
Along with everybody else, Terence looked back at the obvious outcast, who was busy...returning the specks of sunshine to her dress. He shook his head in wonder, stepping over the long line of squashed cake and frosting. "Are you okay?"
"I suppose," she sighed.
"Are you alright?" Silvermist asked, landing in front of them. "That was so scary!"
Fairy Godmother looked at her blue dress, thinking if there was a Garden talent, which was essentially earth, and a Light talent, which was essentially fire, then surely there must be a Water talent. And surely it was represented by fairies in blue. She nodded in understanding and said, "I'm sure for you it would be."
After all, what would a Water talent do―offer to bathe their attacker? She had definitely made the right choice. She, of course, being the little alchemist in autumn leaves...but, details.
Terence had rolled his eyes at her remark, but only said, "Next time a hawk attacks, you run. That is how you stay alive."
"We did stay alive. You're quite welcome."
He frowned in displeasure at her ever chilly voice. Turning away, he said, "Let's, uh, let's get you settled in."
"Why is nobody listening to me? I do not wish to stay here."
"Okay. Okay, I hear you," he said, genuinely reflecting her deceptively gentle voice. "But you are new to being little, right?"
"Correct."
"And I understand you live far away from here."
"That's right."
"Then you have quite a journey ahead of you, especially if you fly the whole way. You're going to get tired...and if you don't let us drive you, then at least let us teach you how to take safe rest stops."
She stared incredulously at him. "Heh... You have vehicles?"
"Want to see?"
Intrigued, she rushed after him, following him to the center of Pixie Hollow. He stopped there, appearing to be looking for his vehicle, even looking into the trees. She meandered after him, wondering at his sanity; then, upon stepping past the corner of the largest building of all, he knelt with a chuckle. "There you are."
And a rat came sauntering up to him, sticking its face into his hands. He chuckled, petting the disease-ridden rodent like it was a dog, then he turned to look at Fairy Godmother―for whom he had to search. It didn't take him long to look up, watching her hover. "Hey, come on down! He won't bite."
"I... I have to go," she said faintly. Diseases... Horrible, lethal diseases. They were all infected and she had been around them! And this rat, this disgusting rodent, was so big now compared to her. It was so big...she could ride it. The realization had her knees feeling weak, so it was an exceptionally good thing she wasn't using her legs. These people weren't just hanging around the rat; they were petting it, riding it, feeding it, probably kissing it. And several of them had touched her...
She turned and flew away, feeling awkward and unsteady. They were friends with rats. Even the mysophobic Garden fairy, of all people. Shouldn't somebody deathly afraid of dirt, also be deathly afraid of germs? It just made sense. How could somebody be one, but not the other? How?
Something pushed into her stomach and she found herself crawling onto the tree branch she had bumped into. Spiraling into a full-blown panic attack, she clutched her head and brought her knees up to her chest, trying to focus on the pretty sparkles.
"So, hawks trying to eat you, safe―mice that want to help us, dangerous?"
She looked up to see Terence, hovering in the air beside her. Visible on the ground behind him, the mouse sat on its haunches, curiously inspecting her from afar.
"I have to say, that, uh... That's weird," he ventured, landing on the branch. Rather than sit, he continued standing, holding onto a higher and very thin branch to keep his balance. "FYI, he can climb trees."
She surged into the air, hovering again. "Ugh. Gross. Ugh, he probably climbed all over that one," she shuddered, quelling the urge to wipe her dress. It just wouldn't do to get the nasty germs all over her hands. Protectively crossing her arms, she turned and began to fly away. "I'll need another wardrobe change..."
"What?"
"Have you all no clue? Rats and mice carry so many diseases, they may as well be poisonous! They are absolutely vile, darling."
Cheese's big ears went down, and he dropped to all fours and dejectedly crawled away.
"Cheese? He isn't vile. He's really clean."
"Oh, really..."
Her scoff wasn't intended as a question, but that's how he took it. "Yes, really. Look at me. Look at all of us. Do we look sick?"
"I can't tell, really," she sighed, "I'm near-sighted. And my glasses remained their normal size. What a nuisance."
"Well, lucky for you, we have eye doctors here. That is, assuming you weren't just on your way out?"
She smiled, finally turning in the air to find his blurry face. "I suppose I can stay a little bit."
It wouldn't do at all to fly into the Potion Factory blind.
"But mice are not clean," she said firmly. "They are disgusting, disease-riddled, vile beasts. Make no mistake."
"With all due respect, Dama Fortuna, you are the one who's mistaken. I won't say this about all mice," he backpedaled. "But ours is squeaky-clean. Washes his face and even uses a litter box."
"Really?" she repeated, still disbelieving.
"Trust me. When you get your new glasses, everything'll be much clearer."
She forced a half-hearted chuckle, following his blurry form.
Coming out of a nearby tree trunk with supplies, Bobble paused to stare. "Clanky," he said, and his large friend emerged. "Who do you suppose that is?"
They watched the fairy Terence was accompanying. She was petite, like everyone else; but her dress was glowing and flashing gold.
"Uh, that's the new arrival. The Scouts had her in lockup. You remember?"
"Aye. And she looks like the Queen."
While Clank continued to stare, Bobble turned and kept carrying the supplies to a cart, where another mouse waited; this one black in color. He began loading the supplies and then Clank was there to assist, accomplishing the task much faster.
"The baby who laughed me into this world had parents. Surely they laughed as babies. Are their fairies my parents?" Bobble rambled, as they worked. "Look at Periwinkle, and Miss Bell. Maybe the fairy the Scouts tortured...is the Queen's mother."
Clank stepped back, surveying the well-balanced load of wooden planks. "Glad I'm not a Scout."
"Aye."
They stood for a moment, feeling the weight of the implication; then Bobble broke the tension. "I think I'll stop by Research. Maybe Scribble will know."
"Okay. I'll get this stuff shipped off to Pixie Hollow," Clank said, climbing aboard the wagon. "Bye!"
Clank began to ride the mouse-drawn carriage down the trail while Bobble flew onward to the library. On his way, he came to hover, turning back around to watch the mysterious pixie's golden glow fading like a lighthouse beam in the fog.
"Alrighty, Miss Godmother, that ought to help!" the much-too-perky employee (or whatever they had here―servants?) practically squealed, as she handed her a fresh pair of glasses. "Treat 'em kindly, I never bespectacled a human before!"
Trying to ignore her quirky personality, Fairy Godmother put on the glasses, smiling as the world came into razor-sharp focus.
"How's that find ya?"
Fairy Godmother's eyes flitted to the fairy she could only describe as bizarre. There was something familiar about her... What was it? Oh―wow, she reminded her of the employee at Friar's Fat Boy! Priscilla, if she recalled. "It's quite above satisfactory," she muttered, taken aback by how very similar they sounded.
"Flitterrific! For my services, I'm gonna charge you...one question."
A strange fee. But she nodded and waited expectantly. After all, she was really supposed to be used to strange―of course, this one set the bar sky-high.
"What is your son's name?"
"Oh, dear, my arrival's the most exciting event for quite awhile, isn't it? Very well, his name is Prince Charming. And with my vision restored, I really must be getting back to him. Thank you for getting me...bespectacled," she concluded, with only a trace of derision in her voice.
"My pleasure, Miss Godmother! Have a flitterrific day!"
Fairy Godmother couldn't hold her sigh as she left the little office. "End me," she groaned, after the door had closed to the accompaniment of little bells. With another sigh, she flew up into the air and rotated until she spotted a tall, dark tower with a glowing orange circle on it. Erroneously believing it to be the royal courtyard, she flew towards it...at the speed of an overweight housecat. She was still within Pixie Hollow when she groaned in frustration at her ponderous pace. Had she been in her human-sized form, she could have flown much faster...not to mention rested in a comfortable seat the whole way.
She was very high up, not only to avoid communication with other fairies, but also to keep her eyes on the prize. She was in fact so high, she couldn't hear anything at all...until she heard the soft jingly bells again. What? She was nowhere near the doctor's office. Did she need to get her hearing checked as well? Flummoxed, she turned around, thinking perhaps she was not as alone as she thought. But she saw nobody. Until she turned back around to continue on to her destination―and startled, shooting backwards in the air at the sight of Little Miss Plum, idling in the air, arms crossed with a mean smirk on her face.
"Oh, sweet pea! I-I didn't see you."
"You weren't supposed to see me."
Fairy Godmother's expression suddenly changed from thinly-veiled intimidation to what appeared to be fury or maybe annoyance... Vidia couldn't decipher it. In any event, it seemed the intruder had lost interest in her; now she scanned the ground below, expertly hovering on a slight angle, like she was about to fly down headfirst but wasn't yet in motion.
Displeased with the lack of attention and fear, Vidia watched as the woman appeared to approach a breakdown. "Something on your mind, Light fairy?" she demanded sarcastically.
"Nothing you would understand. By the way, what is your name? I assure you, nobody would like any of the nicknames I've come up with."
Little Miss Plum now crossed her arms, scowling at her in hate. "Vidia."
"Yes, it's nice to meet you," Fairy Godmother muttered distractedly. Then she finally did fly down, landing on the cobblestone path. Her eyes searched Pixie Hollow, stretching all around her.
With a quiet jingle, Vidia landed beside her. "What are you doing?"
Fairy Godmother looked at her and narrowed her eyes in subtle warning. "I had a thought," was all she would quietly utter, before beginning to walking away.
"Didn't realize it was an exciting event," Vidia quoted her, and began to follow.
"Let's see, where would he go? Someplace magical, or theatrical," Fairy Godmother muttered to herself.
"What're you..."
Fairy Godmother spun, pointing to the largest building of them all. "There. What's in there?"
"Uh, that's the Dust Depot. It's where we get our rations of pixie dust."
"You need pixie dust to fly?"
"You don't?"
Fairy Godmother's light eyes narrowed as she resumed her exploration of the town. "Theater was never as important to him as magic... Tell me something―what is the most magical thing your kind does, and where does it happen?"
"The most magical thing? Probably storytelling."
"Oh, theater and magic," Fairy Godmother chuckled. "That's marvelous. And where does it happen?" she prompted, annoyed that she hadn't yet obliged her.
"Outside. On the last day of each season."
"The last day? I'd have to wait...five weeks!"
"Huh, so I guess this is goodbye then," Vidia answered, with only a trace of satisfaction.
"Unfortunately for both of us, my dear, I need to stay. I can't go home without my answer."
"What's the question?"
Fairy Godmother sighed, holding out her hands in a helpless gesture. "Does my son have a fairy?"
"That depends. When he was a baby, did he laugh?"
"I, um...produced him with magic; he was never a baby. He was never born," she admitted.
"Congratulations! You didn't just rob the world, you emburdened it."
In desperate need of quality sleep, Fairy Godmother gave her a dark look and spoke in a bitter tone. "You'd best hope I don't obtain my powers."
"You're threatening me, New Girl?"
Though Vidia hadn't spoken loudly, several fairies passing by paused to observe their interactions. Tired, alone, and frustrated, Fairy Godmother decided that for the first time in her life, she was going to walk away. Well, technically fly―but it still made her the bigger person. Or, fairy. Dearie! This was going to take some getting used to. She flew away, looking at the message that she had let Terence write on her hand after her not-so-subtle expression of desire for solitude. His writing was what would qualify to these miniature beings as large, scrawled across her palm in slanted letters that were rather cute in their childish style. Upon following his directions, she came to what he had told her she would find; a large (though small enough for a cat to knock over, as they so liked to do) celadon house with a white roof, concealed away by a curtain of hanging vines on each side. A tidy blanket of white flowers adorned each side of a cobblestone path.
"Rather cute," she muttered, and walked down the path wearing her indescribably soft flower petal slippers. She could have easily flown over the curved stairs, but she found herself wanting to absorb every delicate detail. The rail was white as snow, complementing the white flowers quite beautifully. An indented swirling pattern decorated the rail. On feet clad in shoes lighter than air, she stepped into what could never be what she so desperately wanted it to be―her new home. The interior was attractive as well, featuring a Pixie Hollow touch of magic. Upon entrance, she stood in the kitchen, where a magnificent fountain caught her eye. It ran into a basin that only reached her shrunken calves; the basin was decorated in little flower carvings. The water never rose, and its gently rippling surface appeared to have a soft glow from underneath, like even the Pixie Hollow water was enchanted.
The table was decorated with what at first glance appeared to be candles, but when she drew nearer, she could see that none of them had wicks. Instead they all branched up into little hands. Following nothing more than a sense of wonder, she extracted a single speck of sunlight from her dress, and then another, and another, until it was like a snowball of sunshine in her palm. She placed it carefully onto the reaching wooden hand, and the rather lovely makeshift candle came to life, illuminating the table.
She repeated this process, until even at the day's end, the building was filled with sunshine. Laughing softly, she explored the rest of her house, finding posh furniture and beautiful, scenic paintings. Of course she was deserving of such majesty...but how did they know? Surely it was their way of apologizing for their mistreatment.
Still fascinated by the fountain, she stepped out of her house and shut the door. When she really listened, she could still hear the sound of rushing water. Flying off her balcony, she came to hover at where the fountain had to drain. The noise was loudest here, and she placed her hands on the wall, checking to see if it was wet or shaking at all. It was not interesting to discover it was; what appealed to her inquisitive mind was that her searching hands found a handle. It wouldn't open by pushing or pulling, so she slid it back with ease and gazed upon the waterfall coming from her new kitchen. Her house had been built on a long, dark, scary chasm, from which echoed sounds of the unknown. The sound of water splashing upon water from above was too soft and too sweet, and the waterfall the fountain created seemed to fall into infinity. For all the silence around her, she couldn't hear any water below.
She slipped into the world's largest (but also the smallest) crawlspace and turned back to see if anyone had witnessed her exploring what might very well be a dark secret. Her request for privacy had not gone unheeded; she was not being observed. She shut the sliding wall into place before that could change. Unlike the other fairies, her wings did not glow, but the specks of sunlight that remained on her dress did. They illuminated the crawlspace with a fierce brightness, like she was still outdoors and it was daytime. The walls surrounding her were hollow, and the chasm continued, in a seemingly endless drop.
She flew past the falling water. Down, down, down, into what would have been complete and impenetrable darkness. Just as she was beginning to question the point of flying down for the rest of her life, a stone surface began to appear, and her ears were met with the sweet sound of a babbling brook. She continued to fly languidly, lighting up the place like she was the sun. But her glow was no longer needed; there was ample light up ahead, around the corner. She took the left turn and instinctively landed, staring at the most gorgeous sunset she had ever witnessed. Vibrant colors blazed through the sky, like the unification of peace and anger. A wide river ran through emerald hills, reflecting the colors of the setting sun.
She couldn't help but wonder if her son was watching the same sunset. Well, no, probably not; he had little appreciation for beauty he could not touch. She hadn't enjoyed many beautiful skies, herself; always talking about this potion, that potion, this ingredient, that client. Coming up with slogans and rhymes for every bottle in her factory, coming up with songs. Amidst all of her clients, all of her responsibilities, she barely had time for herself. When she did, she gave it to him. It was what a mother did. True, he was a tad spoiled, but perhaps he was acting out the toddler years he never went through. Though perhaps she shouldered the blame after promising him the world...
By the time it occurred to her that she still needed some quality rest, the sky was dark and the stars were shining. She turned and flew against the current of the brook, ascending against the waterfall and back up into the crawlspace of her home. Home... Perhaps it could be. It wasn't like she was leaving a blood relative behind. Just a product of magic, just a thing, and something she could easily recreate.
But...not without her wand. Fairy Godmother let herself out into the flower-scented air of her Pixie Hollow home feeling a pang of regret. How could she even think of leaving it behind for any clueless and undeserving servant to take from the confines of its cabinet? Suddenly her mind went into full revolt. The key! Had the key shrunk? Her hands desperately patted her clothes―her frantic touch causing rays of sunlight to burst out in every direction. Of course the key had shrunk, that was her fortune! She was awfully unlucky considering her name; perhaps it was ill-conceived. Perhaps she did need a new one, after all.
She needed to think. She needed to slow down, breathe, and clear her head. She was heading inside when she saw the ray of sunshine, in the dark heart of night, hitting the window on a 45-degree angle and bouncing off the glass like a beacon.
She felt humiliated as she collected the light, returning it to the fabric of her gown like it was her armor. But then again, it had been. She was not powerless. She just wasn't as powerful as she wanted. To herself she could admit that she wanted to restore her strength more than she wanted to return to her son.
But there was only one way to do it. She spun around and determinedly flew into the night air, looking down in awe at all the little pairs of glowing wings. Suddenly her heart was bursting with joy. They existed! Actual fairies, who had not been witches once. There was magic in her life. No matter where she went, she would always have this magical moment.
She flew down into the parade of lights, welcoming the commotion of fairies going home after another day's work. She grabbed onto the nearest fairy, who shrank from her touch and stared at her with eyes that couldn't have been wider if they were not magnified by his glasses.
"Sorry," she found herself saying. "You must take me to Scout Headquarters immediately."
It didn't really surprise her that he obeyed. What surprised her was that he bowed after getting her there. He ran off and she approached the door to a large building, this one without any glass on the windows. She knocked, wondering why she didn't just let herself in through a window.
Shade opened the door, frowning immediately at the guest. "What do you want?"
"Your boss."
To her surprise, the Scout held up a refraining hand as she tried to enter. "Wait here," she muttered, and shut the door in Fairy Godmother's face.
Minutes passed, and finally Nyx opened the door. "Why are you here?" she demanded, with about as much enthusiasm as the other Scout.
"I need to find my son."
"So then why aren't you looking for him?"
"Because I require assistance. I don't know how to get home from here."
"Talk to Vidia. She's been on the Mainland before."
"The... Mainland?"
She blinked as the door closed between them. She turned dejectedly away and wandered homeward, stopping when a fairy manifested out of thin air, in a blinding explosion of golden light. This fairy was larger than all the others, which almost made up for the fact that she didn't have feet. Her gold dress appeared to flow like a river, and she wore a tiara.
"Born of laughter, clothed in cheer. Happiness has brought you here..." Queen Clarion paused when Fairy Godmother scoffed at her. "Though I presume it left you here," she added thoughtfully. "I am Queen Clarion. Greetings. Are you ready to discover your talent?"
Fairy Godmother balled up her dress in her hands, showing her a little ball of light. "I already have."
Now Queen Clarion's face sobered. "I see."
Fairy Godmother's eyes narrowed as she stared up at this fairy, who was entirely too tall. The last thing she needed was to feel even smaller. So she slowly rose into the air, ascending until their eyes were level. "I'd like to get to the Mainland," she said, forcing the sarcasm from her voice. Who called it that?!
"And you will, as do all Light fairies. They play an important role in welcoming spring."
"Spring! No, I need to get there now!"
At her surly tone, a shadow fell over the queen's lovely face. "Then I am sorry to disappoint. But you must not go there until it's time."
Fairy Godmother hadn't been subservient to King Harold and Queen Lillian, and she would not bow to some stranger. She would not bow to a fancy hat. She ascended even higher, until it felt like she was taller than the queen. "I will do whatever I please!" she snarked loudly. "You have no authority over me!"
Bobble stayed hunkered down, watching in awe as Dama Fortuna exuded an anger that was near-palpable. "I knew it," he whispered.
Fairy Godmother flew away, trying to ignore the fear that the look on the queen's face gave her. As she tried to locate her temporary residence, she wondered about the full scope of her power. She could magically appear, which meant she could magically disappear―just like her, but with no magic wand in sight, and that was scary. Fairy Godmother had had to learn every spell, every charm and curse. The queen didn't, and it was her they were worried about? That seemed most unwise. Especially since she was a new arrival, and the queen might very well be a rat in the nest. Yet another monster who didn't deserve the crown.
Her improved vision helped her to easily discern the faint golden light of a distant fairy, and she flew down, hoping only that the fairy would continue straggling; they must fly at the same speed in this pathetic size, and she would never catch up. Luck seemed to finally be on her side, the fairy was in no hurry. She seemed to be enjoying the walk―using her legs instead of her wings, unlike every other fairy.
Somewhat misinformed, Fairy Godmother misspoke her name in greeting as she blocked her path. "Hello, Serena. Nice night for a stroll, isn't it?"
Not hearing any difference in her name, Zarina didn't correct her. "Oh, long as the sky's clear. Doesn't matter to me, of course."
In spite of her needs, Fairy Godmother's curiosity amplified. "Why's that?"
"I'm all out of pixie dust! Again. We're only allowed our rations," she added, upon Fairy Godmother's visible confusion.
Her confusion didn't clear as she responded, "And yet you're an alchemist."
Zarina hedged, choosing her words carefully. "Rations are logged to make sure everything is fair."
"Please, Serena, I wasn't born yesterday! You broke the rules to toy with pixie dust and discovered alchemy." Now she hedged, watching the kid as she quietly averted her eyes. "And...you made quite a mess of things, didn't you?"
"Once. Just once, and I've paid for it."
"Currency?"
"No. I got banished, and I thought it would be permanent. But they welcomed me back, and...I've learned my lesson."
Fairy Godmother gave a soft chuckle. "Had you learned your lesson, I would not be a Light fairy. And Nyx would be dead."
Zarina thought for a moment, giving a timid smile. "I didn't realize how much I'd help people."
"Oh, don't get a big head, sweetheart; you weren't there for her. I could have just as easily been going in the other direction."
Zarina nodded, "Yes, I suppose that's fair, too," she said, and gave a quizzical smile. "Why are you here, Dama?"
"Goodness me, I thought you'd never ask. I need you to point me in the direction of the library. Your kind is literate, yes?"
Zarina frowned, but gave her directions and bid her goodnight. Fairy Godmother didn't return the sentiment as she left, too eager to begin her quest.
The library proved to be the most impressive sight she had seen so far in their big little village; it was packed with the world's tiniest books―she could probably fit 100 of them in one hand. Her regular, human-sized hand, of course...not that she had been human. Ever. But, well, she knew what she meant.
There was a jingle as the door closed, and she automatically began searching the room for Lydia. But, happily, she was absent from the room.
Then a geeky, timid voice called out to her, "Sorry. We're closing."
"No, you're not."
"Alrighty. Uh, how may I help you?"
She walked through the aisle in search of the librarian. The specks of captured sunlight passed over the shelves ahead and behind her, illuminating the books with light that interspersed with the wispy phantom shadow of her flapping wings. "You will best help me by remaining quiet, or leaving if you cannot. I require and demand proper study."
There was a slight pause before Scribble, operating only on assumption, managed to whisper, "The library is yours, your Highness..."
Poor dear really needed to read less. There was a whole world out there...or was that his problem?
Something caught her eye and she turned to read the golden, shiny words of a book called The Neverbeast. Seeing it in the non-fiction category, she picked it up out of morbid curiosity and went to a table. Opening it, she saw that Fawn was listed as one of the scribes, and she dove in, eager to learn about Pixie Hollow's own monsters. But, upon further inspection, she was disheartened to see that the character of this particular story was not a villain, but a hero, and a rather cute creature at that. Displeased, she finished reading and returned the book to its place, shaking her head at the transient notion that maybe Shrek and his family weren't so bad after all.
"Stop being ridiculous," she mouthed to herself. She observed that the Neverbeast tale was the least dusty book on the shelf, then continued on to find another and hopefully more relatable take on monsters, or a story packed with history that she could use to her advantage when she resumed her real life.
She was three books into her research when the door jingled again. "Scribble," Tinkerbell called, with much too much cheer. "I thought you were closing!"
Fairy Godmother heard him shush her, and she tried to return her fragmented attention to the book she had partially absorbed; instead, it was shattered entirely when Tinkerbell pulled out the chair opposite of hers, with a scraping sound that elicited a surprised yelp from somewhere in the room, plopping down with a weary sigh. "Doing homework?"
Fairy Godmother lifted her head to meet her rather friendly eyes. "Heh...do I look of schooling age?"
"Never too old to learn, Miss Fortuna!"
Fairy Godmother raised her brows in quiet acknowledgement and tried to keep reading, for about a second; then her eyes shot up to Tinkerbell's and she closed the book―it hadn't been very useful, anyway. "You're a tinker," she recalled.
"Yeah. I love to build."
"Do you suppose I could hire you?"
"Hire me?" Tinkerbell asked, and tried to smile. "We work for trade."
"Yes, it is true I've lost everything I had. But I suppose only you can build me an efficient mode of transport."
"I...think I know of something even more efficient than that. But you'll need to trust me."
Fairy Godmother frowned into her eyes, feeling an unsettling sense of belonging. "I can't fathom why," she said, "But I do."
Then she began mumbling to herself, "One concern I have is what I'll be able to provide; I'm too little to lift much, and when I return to my normal stature I'll still have nothing that might in―" Her words ended abruptly and she sat frozen in her chair. Tears suddenly glistened in her eyes.
Tinkerbell saw her trying not to cry, and reached out like she would touch her, but was unable to reach her from across the table. "Miss Fortuna?" she prompted.
"I... I..." she blathered, hardly able to hear her own incoherent reply over the sound of her world crashing around her. "Excuse me, I need some air."
She slid her chair back with another scrape, not even finding amusement at the scared cry that again came from somewhere in the room. She hurried from the room, ashamed to be seen crying; even still, her steps slowed drastically once she was outside. Her wings and shoulders drooped and her feet shuffled, as her tears reflected the captured sunlight she donned on her dress and nearly blinded her. Her grief consumed her, and outweighed her humiliation of being caught with a single tear on her cheek; no longer caring if she was alone, she wept.