Visitors

  ( Mordy )

  Mordy sat upon the end of his bed, thumbing and turning a small wooden horse. In the past, it had galloped across the white rolling hills of his sheets, carrying an imagined rider on their way to claim honour and glory. Now, however, the toy only served to busy worried fingers.

  The Rainbow City Orphanage was a warm, cosy place. The matrons were kind. Fragrant blooms scented the air with subtle sweetness. Usually, he'd listen to the lullabies of rustling leaves until they delivered him gentle dreams, but this evening their song was accompanied by man-made music. The sounds would've been harsh, if not so distant.

  Clang. Clang. Hiss.

  The smiths were working later than usual. Much later. But it wasn't their forges that kept Mordy from comfort. No. He was haunted by what he'd witnessed that very morning.

  Everything had been so normal. He was bundled up in bed, listening to the waking birds, when he'd heard shouting from the dawning streets. By the time he'd jumped up, grabbed his brass scope and made it across the lawn, almost all of Candy Town was gone.

  He'd yelled. He'd screamed. Though with the Fairy Princesses being over a thousand feet below, he may as well have been whispering.

  Cutiehorn had gotten hurt. Really hurt.

  There'd been no word from the palace, and no sight of royalty since Queen Titania had burned Candy Town to the ground. The matrons had told him 'No news is good news', but that didn't make the wait any more bearable.

  Mordy was tired of waiting. He was tired of only hearing about courage and bravery. He was tired of being useless whilst others put themselves at risk. If he were to undergo the metamorphosis and become a Fairy Prince, he could help. He could fight alongside his heroes as one of them. Yet no matter how many times he asked, the matrons said the same thing. 'When you're a little older'.

  It's so unfair...

  "Aren't you supposed to be asleep?" Predatory spheres shone from the dark beyond his window, as if eyeing a nocturnal snack.

  "What are you doing here?" Mordy rushed for his wooden sword and shield, readying himself for action. "If you're here to fight..."

  The white-robed Fairy Princess tucked her wings and squeezed through the window. Socked and sandalled feet touched down on the carpet. With hands behind her back, Sunshine stalked closer until she stood towering over Mordy. "Then what?"

  "Then..." He clenched at his armaments, though that only made them shake all the more. "...I'll scream for help!"

  "And here I thought you were going to give me a splinter." A faint smile graced her lips. "I'm not here to hurt you, little boy. In fact, I have something for you. I thought it'd be a nice surprise for when you awoke tomorrow, but..." Golden saucers swept the room, taking in the many flags and posters bearing Cutiehorn's emblem.

  Mordy gradually lowered his guard. "...But what?"

  Sunshine revealed what she'd been hiding behind her back. Another banner bearing a silver unicorn. "I guess I should've thought of something better."

  Mordy felt his eyelids pull back. The banner might not differ in appearance to those he already owned, but to him, it was unique in that it came from the hands of a Fairy Princess. "For me? ...Why?" He reached out, eager fingers wriggling.

  Rather than answer Mordy's question, Sunshine carelessly flung the material, cloaking him like a comical ghost. He dropped his sword and shield, then flailed his arms until he'd managed to swim free of its snare.

  "Most choose Queen Titania." Sunshine strode around his room, further examining the collection. "Though I'd expect someone your age to be more drawn to Cherrychomp. She seems favoured among the young. Those who only care about winning chose Splishsplash, obviously... Cutiehorn though? She doesn't seem to pull the numbers, not unlike myself these days. So tell me, what is it about her?"

  Mordy brushed his precious gift smooth, then folded it loosely to avoid causing creases. "Princess Cutiehorn doesn't have much magic, but she still fights just as hard as everyone else. I think that's cool. I think that's real strength."

  "You chose your favourite based on something they lack?"

  "No one's perfect. I admire Princess Cutiehorn because she doesn't let anything hold her back."

  Sunshine's head tilted, and a little further than natural. "You're more thoughtful than I expected. I wonder if I were as pensive when I was your age."

  Mordy wrinkled his nose. He'd once heard that Cutiehorn had been around longer than any of the matrons, and yet Sunshine was even older.

  Will I forget about my childhood one day too?

  "...Who would you choose?" he asked. "If you were a normal kid, like me, then who would you look up to?"

  Blonde lashes blinked several times. It took Sunshine a while to answer, as if she'd never considered such a thing before. "...Winterwish, maybe."

  Mordy scrunched his brow. The frosty fairy hadn't been around long enough to gain much of a following yet. In fact, that afternoon had been the first time he'd seen her emblems around Rainbow City. "Why?"

  Sunshine sighed. "I didn't come here to answer your questions, little boy."

  "Then why are you here?"

  Bright, honeyed peepers shifted to the left. Then to the right. Finally, Sunshine reluctantly motioned toward the banner in Mordy's arms. "When last we met, I acted impulsively. I almost knocked you down. I spoke with scorn. I..." she turned away, as if tired of seeing him, "...intended to make amends."

  "Soo... it's like an apology gift?"

  The Fairy Princess gave an awkward half-shrug. "Something like that," she grumbled.

  "You didn't have to buy me anything. You could've just... you know, said sorry."

  With slow and shaky movements, Sunshine contorted back toward him, looming with a forced, trembling smile. "I'm sorry," she hissed through gritted teeth.

  "Y-yeah!" Mordy gulped. "Me too! I shouldn't have spoken to royalty the way I did. I'm sorry, Princess Sunshine." He lowered his head and closed his eyes. Only when he heard sandals begin to pace once more did he dare peek again.

  "So. What's it like up here?" Sunshine had returned her attention to the merchandise, reaching out to run her fingertips along the rough edge of an older wooden sword. It was frayed and dented from years of play, but Mordy kept it as a spare for his friends. "They look after you, right? Treat you well?"

  "Yeah. It's nice, I guess." Mordy carefully placed his new banner upon his dresser. "Have you heard anything about Princess Cutiehorn?"

  "She'll survive," said Sunshine. "I suppose you'll like her even more now she's only got one arm."

  Mordy frowned.

  Not funny.

  "What about your hands?" he asked. "They're all messed up."

  Fingers curled to a close. "They're fine. I heal fast."

  "Are you sure? I was watching, you know. Just before you were rescued. It seemed like you might be hurt too, but you still managed to save her. You saved Princess Cutiehorn."

  Sunshine shook her head. "No. I didn't save her. Not all of her, anyway. I could've. I should've. But I didn't..."

  Mordy had been told numerous times by numerous people that he asked too many questions, but the world was a confusing place, and questions were all he had. "Why not?"

  "...Because I'm not good enough. I never am."

  "That's not true. You're a fairy! It doesn't get any better than that."

  "We're not all made the same, boy. The others... where they succeed, I fail. They make it look easy, like they're not even trying." Sunshine squeezed her eyes to a close. Her head turned one way, then the other. It almost appeared like she was wincing from loud noises. "...So why do I find it all so difficult? What's right with them but wrong with me?"

  Mordy was lost for words. He wasn't even sure Sunshine was still talking to him.

  "It makes me angry," she growled. "Angry at them. At the world. Most of all, at myself." Snarling lips parted to reveal straining gnashers, boiling with saliva. "Sometimes I hate so much that it hurts. So much it makes me sick," she snapped, as if biting the air. Then, as quickly as she'd descended into rage, her eyes shot open and muscles eased. For a moment she only looked around, like she'd forgotten where she was. When her golden gaze met with Mordy's again, it quickly lowered. "...Forget it," she said softly, weakly. "I did not come here to burden a child."

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  "It's ok," Mordy whimpered, as if frightened of waking a slumbering bear. He cleared his throat and tried again. "I don't mind, if it helps." He returned to his dresser, opened a drawer and retrieved several crumpled papers. "When I'm upset, I write the reason down. Then I list ideas that might make things better." He'd only planned to show the sheets from across the room, but when the princess held out her hand, he felt it would be rude to deny her.

  "Let's see what troubles a child has to worry about," she said skeptically.

  Flicking through the first few pages only caused her to shake her head and snort muted laughter, though that changed when she reached the last. Upon it was the very first upset Mordy had written down. The greatest he'd ever suffered. One he doubted he'd ever fully recover from, even if he listed a million ideas.

  "It doesn't always work," he said quietly. "Not for everything..."

  Sunshine nodded slowly, apparently unaware of the shimmer gathering upon her eyes. "This one." She pointed to the list of betterment ideas beneath. "Protect my new family."

  "Yeah." Mordy smiled. "That's my favourite too." He accepted the papers back, then returned them to the dresser. "It kind of feels like my responsibility anyway, since I'm the oldest here."

  "Is that so?" asked Sunshine from behind.

  "Yeah. A big brother should look after his little siblings. If I could, I'd help you protect even more people. All of Rainbow City, plus the Enchanted Forest, and even beyond!" When he turned back, he was surprised to see Sunshine holding his spare sword.

  "Then I suppose a real blade would've been a better gift." She pointed the wooden weapon, as if in challenge. "Though I'm not sure the matrons would appreciate that."

  Mordy was a little unsure how to react, though he had little choice but to make a grab for his own oaken armaments when Sunshine launched across the room and swung.

  Clonk!

  He grunted as vibrations shuddered through his shield. The princess had clearly held back, but blocking still hurt unlike anything he'd experienced whilst duelling the other kids. Rather than cry out or complain, Mordy seized the opportunity and lunged.

  It's a little loud, but who cares! How many kids can say they've sparred with a fairy?

  "Then maybe there's something else you could do. Something that would help us both!" He struck at Sunshine's sword repeatedly. "You could help me become a Fairy Prince!"

  Sunshine stood her ground. "That's not my decision, neither is my word anything right now. Not until I fix things."

  Mordy hopped from side to side and hacked at Sunshine's sword three more times. "Come on! It wouldn't be the first time. The matrons told me orphans have been chosen before! Pairs, even!"

  The more he tried to spar, the more his enthusiasm failed. His training partner remained passive, simply holding the wooden blade out in front.

  What's going on? She was the one that started this...

  "Why are you targeting the sword?" asked Sunshine. "You do realise the purpose of fighting is to strike your opponent, not just slap their weapon around, right?"

  Mordy felt his cheeks ripen. "Well, I didn't want to hurt you..."

  Sunshine thrust past Mordy's unprepared guard, jabbing him in the stomach. It wasn't a hard blow, but the shock was enough to make him stumble and splutter. If he'd been playing with one of his friends, they'd have asked if he was ok at that point, but not Sunshine. Instead she lightly chopped the edge of her blade to his neck.

  "Ouch!" cried Mordy.

  "Guts out. Head off. You're dead. Twice."

  "That's not fair! I wasn't ready!"

  "If you're going to volunteer yourself for combat, you need to understand it better. Sword fights aren't just dances of sparks. A weapon's purpose is to break bodies. To leave them ruined. To end lives."

  The toy suddenly felt heavier than usual in Mordy's hand. "We were only playing..."

  "That wouldn't be the case if you became a fairy," said Sunshine. "You'd be expected to face awful things. Things that want you to suffer. Things that will kill your friends if you make a single mistake. Are you sure you're ready for that?"

  Mordy huffed. "How else am I supposed to protect others?"

  "Just..." Sunshine looked around once more, as if the answer might be written somewhere on the walls, "...be there for them. Teach them the lessons you've learned the hard way so they don't have to make the same mistakes. Hel, become a matron. I'll bet you know what these kids need better than most. Leave the fighting to those of us who're already damned."

  "Oh that's no fair!" Mordy tossed his sword and shield. "I just want to help, but everyone keeps treating me like a stupid kid."

  "Enjoy it while it lasts," said Sunshine. "You said it's nice up here, right? Try appreciating what you have instead of wishing it all away."

  Says her. She lives in a royal palace, yet she's grumpier than anyone!

  "Have you tried that?" The moment the question left his lips, he knew he'd crossed a line.

  Her glare flashed. The wooden handle crunched to shards in a clenched fist. Air whistled through Mordy's teeth at imagined pain, yet the fairy before him didn't even seem to notice the sharp shards.

  "...Oh." She'd finally noticed. A weary groan escaped her lips. "...I'm -"

  "It's ok," interrupted Mordy. "You don't have to apologise. Not again. It's my fault." He shuffled forward. "Are you hurt?"

  To his surprise, Sunshine's palm had suffered no damage. Not a single splinter had managed to break her scarred skin. He watched as her index finger straightened then raised to her lips. At first he was confused, but then he too heard the approaching footsteps.

  Uh oh. I guess we were too noisy after all...

  There came a knocking upon the bedroom door. "Young Master Mordy? You have a visitor," said the matron beyond.

  Mordy rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I know."

  "Well don't keep them waiting," said the matron. "Come down as soon as you can."

  Wait, two visitors in one night?

  Mordy hesitated. He looked toward Sunshine, but the Fairy Princess seemed no more informed than he.

  "Err... Sure. On my way, I guess."

  They listened until the footsteps faded.

  "I should be going," said Sunshine.

  "You don't have to," said Mordy.

  "I do. I'm not supposed to be here. None of us are meant to be out of the palace right now. I'd rather not cause trouble if it can be avoided." She tucked her wings back and climbed out of the window.

  "Princess Sunshine!" Mordy ran to the frame and leaned out. "Thank you for the gift. It was really nice of you."

  "The first of many wrongs I must right." Sunshine flexed the fingers of her left hand, as if testing its recovery.

  "And... I really am sorry for what I said. Not just today, but before too. I didn't mean it. Not all of it, anyway."

  "Hm?"

  "Princess Splishsplash isn't better than you in every way... Just, most ways. Maybe one day you will beat her. I mean, maybe. The matrons always tell us that anything is possible if we try hard enough."

  The corners of Sunshine's lips tilted to a faint smile. "Sounds like the matrons are full of shit... but I'll try not to disappoint you, Young Master Mordy." With that, she spread her wings and slipped into the night.

  When Mordy descended to the treehouse entrance, he was somewhat surprised to see his visitor was a stranger. An ashen-eyed lady, cloaked in grey.

  Nightmare II

  ( ? )

  She and the shadow stood before a slab heavy enough to crush the strongest of men. It should've been a brutal thing, but the finest stonemasons had hewn fine edges, polished smooth surfaces and chiselled romanticised tales of victory. The words were glorious, yet meaningless. No amount of honour or praise would bring back the one lying beneath. Nor any measure of tears. She and the shadow had proved that.

  They were not alone in their love for the fallen. The deceased had been revered within the Kingdom. Across the border, however, celebrations were rife. It was but a line upon a map, yet on one side Hastia had been hailed a hero, on the other, a monster.

  Remnants of the dual spears, Aodhan and Fionn lay shattered upon their wielder's eternal bed. Those who'd witnessed her fall had tried to retrieve as many pieces as possible from the battlefield, yet some fragments would be forever lost. Shards of twinned legends buried in bloodied mud.

  The shadow turned to her. "It's our fault. We killed her."

  "That's not true," she said.

  The tomb grew darker, but not through lack of light. A black cloud was creeping in. It filled the air with wretched song and defiled surfaces with erratic twitching. Fuzzy bodies started to fill etched letters, scurry upon broken blades, and pester flinching flesh.

  "We made her weak," said the shadow.

  "You must not listen to his lies!" she cried.

  "We should have never been born," said the shadow.

  To that, however, she could not disagree.