“Brenden, what ARE you doing?” Lenora, Great Fairy of Essence, glared up at me from behind my easel. Her golden hair sparkled in the moon-glow, streaming from above.
I hated it when she did that.
Swallowing, I added a speck of white glimmer to the eye of the girl in my portrait.
Lenora always had a way of launching a stone in my stomach. Maybe because with the wave of her tiny, magical fingers, she could order my dismissal. And to her credit, I’d dropped a few foibles lately with my protege’s, but this time would be different. I’d chosen well. This girl wouldn’t disappoint.
Quickly, I responded, casually so she wouldn’t know her intimidation, “Can’t you tell? I’m painting a portrait.” I flicked my fingers, trying to inflict a little intimidation of my own. “Of a girl. Not a fairy who annoys me.”
Wiping my brush, I scanned the palette for just the right hue to match this girl’s beautiful green eyes. I’d already mastered the sunlight gleaming in her chestnut hair. The rose in her cheek. The charming overbite of her rather large incisors.
Lenora’s eyes grew wild with fury at the sight of my adoration. She accused, “Is this who I think it is?” Her voice usually sounded like tinkling bells, but today it bordered on crashing silver.
“Lenora, you’re insulting my artistic abilities. Now if you don’t mind.” I pushed her aside, hoping she’d flit away somewhere and leave me alone. I wanted to present this to the dear girl at the proper time–when the Fairy Queen ushered her into our kingdom. When I’d be released from the odious torment of being a wish book.
But Lenora wouldn’t go away.
“You are NOT allowed to acquire emotional attachments for them. It is forbidden.”
“Oh, Lenora, please.” I laughed, hoping she’d take that as a sign of compliance. I didn’t wish to lie.
I’d formed an emotional attachment the first day I saw the girl many months ago. She was throwing rocks at some boys by a creek who had tied a handful of keys to a cat’s tail. The poor thing was so frightened, it jumped around like exploding firecrackers on a string. And although that act was noble indeed, what sealed my high regard for her was when she careened her wheelchair back under a tree. She fell out of it and sat on the cool grass, caressing and soothing the cat with her words.
I noticed her artist’s sketches strewn every which way. One was of a princess with a sword, knighting a boy. And that boy looked exactly like me.
Call it destiny. Fate. Divine will. I know not what. She held my heart forever in her power.
She’d be the one chosen by the Fairy Queen. I could feel it. If that girl could stand up to thugs while sitting in her wheelchair, what could she do against Casteen in the Under Realm? And as the great Wishcaster? No doubt with her bravery and talent, she would be the one to save us all.
Next update Monday, October 8th.