Friday, April 20, 2012
A Fairy Story
Once upon a time, there was a magical kingdom of fairies. There were old fairies and young fairies. Noble fairies and warrior fairies. There were fast fairies and slow fairies.
One day, the fairies decided to create a fairy alliance. The old fairies joined, and the young fairies joined. The noble fairies, warrior fairies and the fast fairies joined. Even the slow fairies joined, eventually.
For a long time, these fairies worked together in perfect unity. The young fairies kept the old fairies on their toes. The old fairies taught the young fairies about the ways of life. The noble fairies made all the fairies proud, and the warrior fairies protected all fairies and fought away magical beasts.
One day, one of the young fairies named Missy Rascal decided to wander away. He wandered through the trees, and over the hedges, far from home. Eventually, he came to a small brook where other friendly fairies lived.
I want to be a warrior fairy. I am sick of being a young fairy, Missy Rascal thought to himself. He charged at the friendly fairies and slaughtered them with his teeth and the sharp blades on his wings. They cried for him to stop, but he didn't.
When the head of old fairies, named Big Soul, heard about the death of the friendly fairies, he was very sad. When he heard about Missy Rascal, he was very, very sad.
"Missy Rascal, why did you do such a thing. Why would you kill friendly fairies?"
Big Soul did not rant and rave. Big Soul did not run after Missy Rascal. He was quiet. And he thought. And he thought some more.
One of the Warrior fairies, Head Basher, was also angry. "Let me kill Missy Rascal. Let me tear him with my teath and cut him with my wings!"
But Big Soul stopped him. "We must do what is best for all fairies."
Over time, people began to forget about the friendly fairies. Missy Rascal came back, his head bowed low. Then he went away to live through the trees and over the hedges, but he didn't kill any more friendly fairies.
However, the head of the young fairies couldn't take it any more. He also left, never to be seen from again.
Because of this, Missy Rascal became head of the young fairies. Suddenly, the other fairies remembered what had happened and were concerned. Is Missy Rascal going to hurt the young fairies? Will he want them to leave us and go fight the friendly fairies?
The old fairies were concerned. The fast and the slow fairies were also concerned.
We could adopt the young fairies, mused the old fairies. The young fairies could become old fairies.
We could adopt the young fairies, mused the fast fairies. The young fairies could become fast fairies.
We could adopt the young fairies, mused the slow fairies. The young fairies could become slow fairies.
"We should bight them with our teeth, and cut them with our wings!" said Head Basher. "Let us go!"
"No." said Big Soul. "We must do what is best for all fairies." and he thought.
And he thought some more.
But, Missy Rascal didn't want to be the leader of the young fairies. So he gave it to another young fairy. A young fairy that all the fairies loved, named Sir Writesalot. And all the fairies were very happy, and very pleased that this had happened.
Sir Writesalot was very tired. He had special duties writing in fairy land and was a very busy fairy. But he couldn't say no to the young fairies. He must help them.
Missy Rascal stayed in the woods. He walked in the shadows and ate strange food. He talked to the magical beasts, in their strange language. Many of his young fairy friends continued to visit him. But soon, his eyes held shadows, and there was no goodness left in his heart.
Late one night, he stole into the young fairie's camp. He took their fairy dust. He took their fairy food, and their fairy tools. He took the fairy books and the fairy toys. He took it all, and left.
When the young fairies woke up, there was a huge outcry. "We've been robbed! We've been betrayed!" they cried louder and louder.
They woke up the noble fairies. They woke up the warrior fairies. They woke up the old fairies and the fast fairies. Eventually, the slow fairies woke up too.
"It is ruined, it is ruined. We are ruined!"
The warrior fairies prepared for battle.
The noble fairies prepared for battle.
The old fairies and the fast fairies prepared for battle.
Sir Writesalot and the other young fairies prepared for battle.
They marched out to find Missy Rascal. They looked through the trees, they looked through the brush. They fought off the magical beasts that were his friends. They tore through the land, and crushed all in their path.
"We will not stop until it's done!" cried Head Basher.
"We go to defend the young fairies!" cried the warrior fairies.
After much roaming and clashing and killing, after they had tored through Missy Rascal's places, destroyed Missy Rascal's fairie toys, scattered his fairy dust into the wind, and fought many mystical beasts, they were very tired, and they decided to go home.
Their wings were tattered, and their arms were bruised. Their eyes were tired. Their muscles ached, and they were dirty. Some of them limped, but they marched with heads held high.
Big Soul led them back to their camp. While they marched, he thought.
And thought some more.
When they reached the camp they heard laughter and fairy play. They heard giggling and the sound of fairy feet dancing on the ground. Curious, the tired, torn up fairies walked into their camp.
It was several young fairies. They were playing fairy checkers and swinging on ropes. They were dancing in fairy shoes.
And with them, was Missy Rascal. His fairy shoes were blue. He was laughing, and dancing, but there was no goodness in his eyes. He smiled shrewdly at the tired fairies.
The tired young fairies trembled at the sight.
The old fairies looked grim. Their eyes looked serious.
The fast fairies and the slow fairies stared.
Sir Writesalot fell to the ground in agony. "Save us! Save us!"
"Let me kill them with my teeth! Let me rip at them with the blades of my wings!" cried Head Basher.
Big Soul was silent. His eyes looked dangerously bright.
Missy Rascal and the young fairies laughed and danced.
"Let me rip out their eyes, and boil their hearts!" cried Head Basher.
"Please don't hurt the young fairies! Save us all!" cried Sir Writesalot.
Missy Rascal and the young fairies skipped and played.
"Let me chop them into quarters, and impale their heads upon stakes!" cried Head Basher.
"No.....no!" whispered Sir Writesalot. He was tired, so tired.
"Let us kill them all now!" cried Head Basher.
Big Soul was very, very angry. His eyes were very bright. He slowly started to grow, taller and taller. His face was very stern, and the clouds above him grew dark and boiled. Soon, he towered over the fairy camp, and ripples of flames danced off his fairy wings.
He stood there, while all the fairies trembled beneath him. Even Missy Rascal and his young fairy friends trembled.
But Sir Writesalot didn't tremble anymore. He stood up straight and looked up at Big Soul. His eyes were very tired, but he was very determined. He stood very straight.
"You will not hurt the young fairies." he said slowly, and assuredly.
Big Soul stood there, and looked down at Sir Writesalot, his eyes bright. The rest of the fairies still trembled.
"The old fairies need the young fairies. The new fairies need the young fairies." Sir Writesalot said, getting louder.
"The fast fairies need the slow fairies. The warrior fairies need the noble fairies."
"The young fairies need the warrior fairriors. The noble fairies need the young fairies."
He stopped, and for a moment more looked up at Big Soul. Then he turned to Missy Rascal and the young fairies, his face grim. "I will do what is best for all fairies." he said.
At this, Big Soul's eyes softened. The boiling clouds above his head turned calm and grey, and he slowly shrank down--down, until he was a normal fairy size.
Sir Writesalot glared at the young fairies, his eyes bright. But he did not speak. He thought, and thought some more.
And Missy Rascal ran into the forest. Several new fairies ran off into the forest with him. They ran, and ran. Some were angry. "We will make our own fairy camp, with our own fairy dust and our own fairy toys. They will not be able to tell us what to do!" But they were wrong.
Some were sad. "I will miss Sir Writesalot. I will miss our fairy home. I will miss the other young fairies, and the old fairies, and the warrior fairies. I will even miss Head Basher."
Some ran so long, and so fast, they left fairy land, never to be seen from again.
Big Soul looked at Sir Writesalot. He looked at the remaining young fairies, and the old fairies. He looked at the warrior fairies and the noble fairies and the fast and slow fairies.
He thought, and he thought some more.
Then, he did an astonishing thing. He went to the young fairies, and took some of their fairy dust. He went to the old fairies and took some of their fairy dust. He went to the warrior fairies, and the noble fairies. He got dust from the fast and slow fairies.
When he had collected it from all, he mixed it together in his hand. It sparked and shimmered. It flashed, and glimmered.
Then, he took the glimmer and blew some on Sir Writesalot.
"Now, you are an old fairy." he said.
He blew some on the old fairies and the warrior fairies. "Now you are new fairies."
He blew some on the fast fairies and slow fairies. "Now you are warrior fairies and noble fairies."
He blew the glimmer over the entire camp.
And from that day forward, the new fairies forgot they were new fairies. The old fairies forgot they were old fairies. The warrior fairies forgot they were warrior fairies.
From the day foward, they were all just fairies. They were all warrior fairies, and noble fairies. They were all fast fairies and slow fairies. They were all new fairies and old fairies.
And they lived, and played, and frolicked in their fairy camp, and were quite prosperous.