#iluinel

He had considered it for days. When he heard of Blues fate, he had considered going there to help her, them, the other fairies. But the banishment - it was in essence still a banishment even if he left himself - hurt in many ways. He helped one fairy to get back. But she, too, turned her back on him. Eventually, though, his heart won out, his true and deep down kind and loving heard.

When he walked into the shop, he knew of two options to wake Blue. Only one of them was foolproof. That was what he was holding in that very moment: A vial of what appeared to be white dust. But if you looked closely it was iridescent. Every imaginably color was laced through the dust, creating a magical glow. It was dust created through the essence of True Love. And True Love could break any curse. He made sure that nobody saw him when he entered Golds shop - what a joke to keep her there. Then he sprinkled some of the most precious dust on her and waited.

“Come back, Blue.”

Send me a ♮ for my muse’s reaction to yours coming up from behind and wrapping their arms around mine’s waist.

Archie smiled lightly, feeling the fairy’s arms circle around his bare waist, just over the towel. He placed his free hand over one of hers, glancing at her in the mirror’s reflection.

“Good morning,” He turned the razor over in his hand, “I didn’t want to wake you.”

Fighting was a bit of a second nature to him. When he joined pirates, he had to fight. He had to defend himself. The switching of sizes was usually not part of it. He used swords against humans. Against Fiona only his magic would do. And so he switched sizes so fast not many could keep up. Sadly Fiona could. She was so skilled in it, she began anticipating his moves. And as soon as he noticed that, he knew he was screwed. Before long her hand appeared in front of him. It was faster than he could even keep up with. One moment he flew, aided by fairy dust and two remaining whole wings, the next pure black pain erupted in his back. It felt like his entire soul was being ripped from his body and set ablaze. His scream, even in his small form, could be heard down the entire main street. She dropped him, just like that, holding his remaining wings victoriously as she watched her opponent fall. 

One thought crossed his mind: In all the time fairies exist, it was unheard of a fairy to survive the violent removal of their wings. And he felt it. The pain, the pull towards something unknown, a darkness he hadn’t felt before. He was fading. The falling fairies light flickered.

There was a simplicity of life when he hose to hide his wings. Kheelan usually wore a long robe around his shoulders so other fairies caught no glimpse of his useless wings. One was missing entirely, the other so broken he couldn’t use it anymore. He tended to walk unless he had no other choice but to fly. 

Today he couldn’t wear the robe. He was situated in a dust mine, carefully picking up drops of dust that a deliverer dropped earlier. In her flight, she had basically dropped it everywhere. 

Symbol Starters

Send ✞ for our muses to meet in an empty church.