"The Guardian Fairy"
By Alissa Lindsey
Prologue
A glinting knife flashed, piercing
the victim’s breast. Blood spurted on the pale-papered walls and over the
mahogany floor. At that moment, the room exploded with light, brightening the
features of the murderer and the crumpled fairy. The following thunder seemed
to ignite a grin of triumph on the fairy slayer’s face. A baby began to wail
and the winner of the duel strode to the bassinet and cradled the crying
child. With the babe in the shadow-clad figure’s arms, the figure opened the
door, and slithered away, leaving the body sprawled on the floor.
On this night, the very sky was
appalled at the evil happening in Winchel. The town was governed by King Foster
and bordered by a dense forest filled with Ice Imps. The community’s population
of fairies, dwarves, and humans lived peacefully together, until now.
The duel had
left the room in a shambles. The jungle green front door hung bent from its
only remaining hinge. Spells had up-ended chairs and potted plants. A slit in
the wallpaper, above where the fairy lay, gaped open, streaming several inches.
The lifeless woman faced the ceiling, her previous terror printed upon her dark
gray eyes. The handle of the murder weapon was visible, protruding from her
chest. Her pale green, feathery frock had turned a stomach churning brown from
all of the burgundy fluid seeping around it. Her nearly transparent wings were
torn into pieces and scattered around her. She had been a Guardian Fairy…
Chapter One - Resolved to Find and
Punish
As I
strolled up the walk, I hummed quietly to myself. I hadn’t been to see my
sister, Maythene, in almost a week and it was high time we caught up on things.
My humming ceased, and the peachy snapdragons I held slipped and fell to the
ground - crushed. My emerald eyes began to well up, impairing my vision, as I
streaked into the disaster scene. I fell to my knees and collapsed over my
sister’s body. My only relation - dead.
-One Week Later-
I would stand being cooped up in my cottage no
longer! The bright walls were soon to suffocate me, the light from the
fireplace - soon to envelop, singe, and discard me. I unhooked my shabby shawl
from its perch on the back of a chair and wound it around my spry shoulders and
the base of my violet-tinted wings. I grabbed a clamshell clip from the hall
table and twisted my shoulder length red hair into a bun and secured it.
I was
escaping the cheerfulness. I had no idea where I was escaping to, considering I
didn’t fancy talking to anyone, but this thought didn’t slow me down. I banged
the door shut and powered down the walkway. A neighbor’s curly-haired head
popped out of a kitchen window to inquire about the noise, but I was already
too far away to hear her concerned words.
My feet
moved, hastily, one after the other. I wasn’t traveling to anything - only away
from something. I was moving away from the heart-splitting pain, face-scarring
tears, and ear-cracking sobs. I knew deep down that all of those things were
inside of me and would thus follow me wherever I fled, but my heart was stronger
than my mind and pushed me onwards, farther and farther until I realized I had
absolutely no idea where I was.
I’d never
been to this place before. I didn’t know if I should stop or continue on and on
forever until I eventually walked around the whole planet of Rindiano. My legs
were tired of carrying me, which caused them to shiver and drop me to the
ground. I was by a rock-bedded lake. The rocks were sharp and stung my skin.
The water was green and foul smelling. A shabby sign told me that I had arrived
at Cadmium Marsh. I’d found the perfect place - a place full of pain that
flowed over top of my sorrows so I could quit focusing on them. This distracted
my overworked brain. It forced me not to think about my sister’s death.
People
thought that since my parents died when Maythene and I were young, that we were
the best of friends. But our opposite coping mechanisms - mine of voicing all
my thoughts, hers of saying nothing - had ripped our relationship a part. As a
result, we built interior walls and merely put on an act of companionship for
the outside world. We pretended to each other as well. In truth, I didn’t know
much about my sister.
On top of
everything else, my sister had been a Guardian Fairy. The human child she had
protected, a baby girl named Lillia, had been kidnapped after my sister was
murdered. Lillia’s parents, Emden and Aniece, were on vacation and knew nothing
of what had happened yet. The Guards of Winchel, who King Foster commanded, had
found no clues about the murder or the kidnapping. This meant there was nowhere
for me to find the answers I craved.
I raised my
body to a sitting position and attempted to penetrate the deep water with my
gaze, to examine what was beneath the surface, to find the solutions I didn’t
have. A great sigh escaped my lips and surfed to the water where it rippled and
dissolved. I rose to my full height, average for a fairy but small compared to
a human, and straightened my pink V-neck blouse. Turning away, I began to
trudge back to my life.
Once in the
market, the loud bustle of excited voices jogged me from my thoughts. Merchants
called to their customers about current sales, and the flurry of feet on the
unpaved roads caused dust to circle in the air. I passed the bank where
Winchelos could save their wins, the town’s currency, and ambled by the post
office. The kind-hearted and round-bellied postmaster smiled at me, but I kept
walking.
I ended up
in front of the dress shop I owned. I peered in through the windows. The human
girl, Keira, I’d hired four months ago, who almost never said anything, was
arranging scarves on a rack. Her brown, chest length hair had fallen in her
eyes, but she was so intent on her task that she didn’t notice. I’d sent a
message to her that morning and told her to open up - she’d be in charge all
day. Keira’s Guardian, a male dwarf named Nehudu, slouched in a corner, amusing
himself with a captive spider.
I decided
working was the only thing that could help me and pushed open the door. The
young fairy girl who also worked for me started to sing, “Welcome to Roxanne’s
Dresses! Today-” She stopped her tune when she saw who I was and slumped over
grumpily on her stool. Keira glanced up, the noise rousing her from her
thoughts, and nodded. I strode to the counter, opened the coin drawer, and
began counting that day’s profits. The sun beamed its rays through the windows
and illuminated the mocha walls. Normally, this charmed my heart, but today, my
surroundings were merely blasé.
Working had
definitely helped me. I had caught myself smiling a few times. Keira had been
as quiet as ever but had hugged me on her way out. I was alone now and wished for
the company of others. I’d realized that grieving alone would simply tear me
apart. I needed to be distracted by work and by my boyfriend, Alexander. I
shook my head, as if to shake away the past week’s dismal memories of how I’d
treated Alex. I had sat there boiling in survivor’s guilt, hating myself. I had
lashed out at each person who had tried to comfort me.
But I had no
desire to be like that anymore, and I knew Maythene wouldn’t wish that life for
me. I was the surviving sister, and I needed to live like it. The self-berating
would stop. I would make a point to be cheerful and thankful of the
consolations I received. Now I needed to visit Alex. I borrowed a cloak from a
rack and fastened it around my neck, smoothing the folds over my ruffled gray
miniskirt. Then I locked the door and pocketed the brass key.
While I
walked the two blocks to Alex’s, I continued to ponder the contents of my head.
I wasn’t anywhere near being ‘over’ my sister’s death. That wasn’t something I
could ever get over. A sudden thought occurred to me, if I could find her
murderer, establishing a cheerful life again might be easier. I made a promise to
myself and my sister’s memory that I would find and punish whoever had taken
her from me. I would do it no matter the cost. As I rounded the corner to the
apartments Alex lived in, my eyes found him in the living room. The candle
light illuminated his figure. His face held sorrow, but it was masked by
pleasurable distraction. He must be reading, a favorite pastime.
I fixed
myself in the lane, staring through at him for a full five minutes. I was
rather worried he wouldn’t forgive me for pushing him away. If he rejected me,
it would be truly just. But was love just? As I stood, I felt a wide smile
envelop my face, just at the sight of him. Suddenly, he raised his head and his
eyes locked onto mine. I held my breath as he gazed at me. And then he jolted up,
his chair tipping to the floor, and flung open the door. He could tell I was
emotionally improved, and he held no grudge. He picked me up and spun us in a
circle. His pale green wings towered over my dainty purple ones. I laughed and
kissed him.
“I’m sorry!
I was awful.” I was a stubborn fairy and hated apologizing but his caramel eyes
had coaxed the words from me. He laughed.
“How did
that taste?” I made a face. He knew me too well. “But I understand that you
were grieving. I knew it wouldn’t always be like that. I knew you just needed
time and space to think. Turns out, I knew right.” He winked. “Are you hungry?
I was about to start down to the Night Market…” I took his hand, and we walked
to the market together.
*
“Alexander!
You cannot tell me what to do!” It was the next day and he had surprised me
with a picnic of sugary treats he had made at his bakery - a picnic that had
gone sour with the talk of my sister’s murder.
“Roxanne…
what do you really think you can do? The Guards of Winchel didn’t even
find anything! If you go poking your nose into dirty business, that’s what
you’re going to find!!”
“So I’m
incompetent at being a good sister? My sister is dead, Alex! Dead! How can I do
anything less than find out why?” I stood and began to walk away from him.
“Roxanne!
Wait!” He charged after me, his inky curls jostling as he grabbed my shoulder.
I shook him off. “You know I didn’t mean what I said like that. I only meant
that trained professionals gave up! How do you propose to outdo them? And I
couldn’t imagine losing you, Rox. I don’t want you hurt! I don’t want you in
this!” His voice rose to a pronounced shout toward the end.
“She’s my
sister. I can do better than anyone can. And regardless of what you want, I’m
in this Alex. I’ve been ‘in this’ since the moment I found my sister’s cold
body lying on the floor! I’m doing this with or without your support.” I wasn’t
permitting myself to listen to any more of what he had to say, so I withdrew.
I remember this story well. We worked on it together in high school! Great job!
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