#kyto

To honor being a Pixie Hollow (or Fairy Haven) fan for past two decades, I redrew my very old fan art for Fairy Dust and the Quest for the Egg. I was meant to finish this new version back in September, but I went through an art block and instead was drawing other things

For slightly better context, at the end I'm featuring some of the book's illustrations that were my moodboard for this drawing. Long story short: A dangerous hurricane destroys Mother Dove's egg, source of Neverland's magic; three fairies are then chosen to go on a quest to optain three treasures for the evil dragon, in exchange for his flame, the only thing able to restore the egg and prevent Neverland from disappearing forever

Fairy Dust and the Quest for the Egg was written by Gail Carson Levine and illustrated by David Christiana

He had been drawn to Wendy Darling in the most peculiar of ways. She’d seemed like most other souls at first. When he smiled, she crumpled. When he invited her towards adventure, she couldn’t say no. She was another wonderful addition to his story and, to be sure, Peter was certain he’d been the one to write her in. 

The problem with Wendy Darling was that she began to change. This was new to Peter. Pirates were pirates, and always would be.  Lost boys were lost boys, and were certain to never grow up. But Wendy? Wendy could do whatever she pleased. When a certain pixie, too caught up in Peter’s spell to control herself, tried to rid Wendy from the world to keep him for her own, Wendy Darling chose to be kind.  When Peter took his attention from Wendy to another, certain she’d be too wonderstruck to care, the girl saw through his childish games and refused to play along. When he’d most wanted her to stay…

She had chosen to leave.  

And slowly, little by little, the rest of Peter’s world became tainted with this idea that maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t all his to command. Pirates became more cunning, and Peter found he could no longer predict their every move. The lost boys got smarter, and it seemed to Peter that Slightly was becoming a bit too big for his britches.  

Then there was Tink. If anyone had been most changed by Wendy’s coming and going, it was, ironically, the one who’d most wished she’d never come. Tinker Bell had been bound to Peter since the moment they met, drawn to him with such force that it never even occurred to her that she could exist again without him. Then that Wendy-Bird came along, and Tink learned quite quickly that Peter was perhaps not so drawn to herself as she’d been led to believe. That didn’t matter. The enchantment of his presence, his laughter, and his smile still bound her and she knew if he called for her again, she would come. She had to. After all, no one could say no to Peter Pan.

No one but Wendy, apparently, which had put quite a bit of a new perspective on things for Tink. So when the girl left and suddenly, Tinker Bell had Peter Pan all to herself all over again, she found she wasn’t quite sure she wanted him anymore. Of course she still loved him–she couldn’t help that–-but she realized then and there that she was, perhaps, something of a great fairy even without him. So Tink had left too, and Peter felt something he had not ever felt before. He felt lonely.  

And with that, the magic of Neverland began to slip. 

Yen Sid had not known this when he stepped inside the world, the young Mickey clinging to his robe as he trailed behind him. But such is the way of magic. For though, he thought, it had led him here to solve a problem of his own–the fading hope of his once-curious apprentice–it had also found the perfect opportunity to bring a bit of aid to the world itself. Whether the little mouse was up to the task, however, was another situation entirely. But the magic was unconcerned with that. Its job was to grant opportunity–what the individual chose to do with that was up to them.

When Mickey took his first step on Neverland, the island shuddered. For all his fear and uncertainty, the child still possessed a great deal of imagination, and this was a power the world had begun to desperately crave. In Pixie Hollow, Tinker Bell suddenly found herself overcome with a glowing new idea for an invention, and raced off in search of Lost Things to build it with. The Second Star glowed twice as bright and, seeing this, Peter thought that maybe he could manage to pick himself off the floor of the hideout to search for some treasure. Maybe. But deep in the heart of Neverland’s lone volcano, a different sort of creature stirred.  For in the shadow of Peter’s melancholy heartbreak, something dark and treacherous had formed. Mickey’s presence gave it the power it needed to wake.

Imagination goes both ways, after all. 

Mickey followed behind his teacher with tentative steps and a wide-eyed wonder.  He felt as Yen Sid tensed, and knew at once that something wasn’t quite right. 

“Stay close, Mickey,” the sorcerer commanded, with a voice Mickey recognized as one meant to scare him, but not Scare him. His curiosity only grew, but he dared not race off to satiate it. Not after what happened last time. So he settled with looking about him, wondering how any world could have ever become so endlessly green. 

Meanwhile, Yen Sid trudged along with a wary eye. The world seemed its usual self to anyone not well versed in the art of magics. But the sorcerer could sense the mischievous nature of the island was in a frenzy, and it clustered around the mouse with which he traveled. With his usual frown, he silently urged it to depart from them—he wanted to reinspire his apprentice, not frighten him all over again.  By heavens, where was that Peter Pan?

“Stay here,” he urged the mouse at last as they encountered a particularly thick patch of jungle.  While the ferns and foliage parted seamlessly around the sorcerer as he walked through them, Mickey was not nearly so fortunate, and his robe was becoming tangled in all manner of vines and twigs. So silently, the child obliged, and found a place atop a fallen log where he sat swinging his legs as his teacher continued on through the wood in search of someone Mickey didn’t know.

There was quite a lot to take in, even in this little patch of the world. The insects alone were more vibrant than any Mickey had seen, and he wondered as he saw a butterfly passing by if it was here that Yen Sid had found inspiration for some of his most colorful spells. He shuddered a bit as he thought of that, and the memory of his watery escapade flooded his mind all over again. A sick feeling settled in his stomach. No more magic. No more imagination. He’d proven he wasn’t cut out for that sort of thing. 

Still, it was hard not to entertain a little bit of creative thought as he sat staring about him. The sunlight filtered through the canopy in golden streams, and Mickey thought it fun to imagine these to be little rivers of pixie dust, carrying with them dancing fairies (which were, really, little bugs and falling leaves) in a winding parade to the forest floor. Yen Sid had mentioned fairies before, hadn’t he? There was one Mickey had always thought particularly interesting, but he couldn’t seem to remember their nam-

No sooner had he begun to think this than something raced by him, too quick to clearly see. With it came the sound of light jingling, and the leaves about Mickey were swept up in such a way that he couldn’t help but sneeze as they brushed across his nose. He swiveled his head to follow the sound, and watched as thousands of sparkling lights settled on the forest floor before swiftly fading away. 

His fur stood up and his tail straightened, the very curiosity he’d tried so hard to resist tingling across his entire being.  Yen Sid’s instructions still hung over his head, but they were quickly losing their hold.  He slid off the log and peered into the shadows, a tentative grin making its way onto his face. It wasn’t really mischief if he only went a little ways away, right? He’d be back before the sorcerer ever knew the better. 

Before he knew it, his feet were carrying him through the foliage towards where he’d seen the creature fly. Mickey couldn’t help himself. His excitement had gotten the better of him and for the first time in weeks, it was enough to drown out the fear.

The jungle foliage soon grew sparse, dirt and leaves replaced instead by soft sand beneath his slippers.  Mickey kicked off his shoes when it became too difficult to walk on the shore, and laughed as the sand dusted his fur. The ocean rolled in gentle waves, brushing up the shoreline, and its sound nearly disguised the jingling that came from nearby. Nearly. 

Mickey drew in a breath when the sound tickled his ears and grinned widely, turning to face it. A faint glow emanated from a small clump of reeds. He tiptoed towards it and gently parted the grass, but the being within was too focused on their own task to notice the comparatively giant creature peering its way.

To be fair, Tinker Bell had a lot to occupy her. There was a pair of Clumsy spectacles lodged deep in the sand that she was having a grand, ol’ time trying to dig out. She hadn’t quite decided what she was going to use them for yet, but she figured the glass might be good for conducting sunlight, and she was sure Fira or Iridessa would be happy for some help. The frames she would keep–she’d gotten a neat little idea out of the blue this morning, and though she wasn’t quite sure how or why she was going to execute it, something told her these would come in handy. 

If she could get them out, that was. She’d been yanking on one of the bars for quite some time already, and it refused to budge. Face red with both effort and frustration, she gave it a little kick before grabbing hold with an even tighter grip and yanking with all her might.  Something moved this time, only it wasn’t the spectacles. Tink went flying backwards in a flurry of pixie dust, landing straight in a soft bunch of scarlet something or other.

She sat up and shook her head dizzily, wondering just what had broken her fall. Something like crushed velvet surrounded her, and she tilted her head curiously. If there had been another Lost Thing so close to the spectacles, she was certain she would have noticed it. So what…?

No, not what. Who.

She jumped up in a burst of pixie dust, and flew as fast as she could to the other side of the reeds. It wasn’t Peter, and certainly not one of the lost boys–none of them would touch the color red aside from a feather or two (red was a Pirate color, they had long since decided). But if it was a pirate, she had an inkling she’d have been a bit too late to escape their clutches.  

Cautiously, she peeked out from one of the reeds to see if she could spot the culprit.  She could spot him, all right, considering he wasn’t exactly hiding now, but she’d never seen anyone quite like him before. He was about Tootles’ height, if not a bit smaller, and Tink briefly wondered if maybe he was a Lost Boy after all, judging by the ears atop his head. But no, no…those were his.  As was the little tail that wound behind him. She supposed he was a mouse of sorts, though he looked like none Tink could recall, and there was an air of the Clumsies about him too.

When he caught her looking his way he froze, then gave a shy little wave. Tinker Bell wasn’t sure what to think about that. So she reacted as she usually did when someone had minorly inconvenienced her plans for the day, and flew right up to him with a cherry-red face and a load full of colorful tinkling that gave Mickey quite a few new choice words to ask Yen Sid about later on. 

That was the strange part, really. Because Tink noticed after a few minutes of ranting that the mouse did seem ashamed, which would have only made sense if he actually understood what she was saying (about how he had interrupted her very important work, and nearly scared her half to blinking out).  Tink stopped her rambling and, slowly, her fiery cheeks cooled. Now she was Curious. And if she was Curious, there was hardly room for being Angry. 

With a flutter of her wings, she alighted onto the intruder’s nose and peered at him with scrutinizing eyes. Queen Ree had mentioned “The Gift” before–a phenomenon in which a Clumsy could understand the fairies’ distinct tinkling voices–but few of Neverland’s visitors possessed its talent. Peter was one of those few, of course, as was Hook (unfortunately). But just who was this strange newcomer who seemed to wield it, too?

She started when he spoke, and just barely caught enough to actually hear his name. Mickey, apparently. She didn’t know why, but the sound of it made her want to smile. Her wings flitted ever so slightly as she dipped in a tiny curtsy and introduced herself. 

Tinker Bell. Er…Tink! Fly with you!

Mickey’s eyes sparkled, and he couldn’t keep from laughing at the sheer excitement running through his veins. A real life fairy! How lucky was he?

Tinker Bell laughed a bit too, having simmered down from her tirade. This new friend of hers was really something. But, as with most tinkers, it was difficult to keep her mind in one place for very long. Before she knew it, she found herself drawn back to the Lost Thing she’d been so unsuccessful in retrieving. 

Mickey watched as Tinker Bell fluttered off his muzzle and darted instead to the rusty pair of glasses still buried in the sand. She looked lost in thought, and he realized she was still trying to figure out a way to retrieve the item. He couldn’t imagine why she’d want such a dirty, broken old thing, but figured he might as well help. 

It took Mickey considerably less effort to pull the spectacles out of the sand and, when he did, Tinker Bell twirled around with such excitement that pixie dust landed all about his fur and robe. He let out a little yelp, scrambling for something to grip onto as he felt himself lifted off the ground. Tink, on the other hand, seemed less than concerned. She had been a bit distracted while inspecting the spectacles but upon seeing Mickey’s skybound state, she smiled widely and flew up beside him. After all, it had been a while since she’d had a partner to search for Lost Things with–it would be fun to teach someone else how to fly alongside her. Someone who wasn’t Peter Pan.

Meanwhile, the boy in question was having his own sort of adventure, though it wasn’t nearly as easygoing as usual. You see, when Tink had gone back to Pixie Hollow, her pixie dust had, clearly, gone with her. So Peter was left to journey about as anyone else might have, and now was faced with an arduous climb up Torth Mountain in search of treasure. It was the first real adventure he’d embarked on since Wendy had left, and the work might have done him some good had his mind not been set on such sour thoughts.

Who did that Wendy think she was, anyway, leaving adventures and fun behind to…ergh…grow up? Why, Neverland was ten times better than the world outside the Second Star. If she wanted to leave and become a boring, ol’ grown up then fine. His world was better off without her. 

Of course, Peter didn’t really think that. But he was so unaccustomed to having someone he cared about do something he didn’t like, that he wasn’t actually sure what to think. It was much easier to assume that Wendy herself was the problem, rather than to admit that maybe his perfect world wasn’t so perfect to everyone. 

At long last, Peter reached a ledge near the mountain’s peak and hauled himself over the last bit of rock to climb up on it. He wiped a bead of sweat from his brow and frowned. Flying would have been a whole lot easier but Tink was still being temperamental for some weird reason, and he wasn’t going to be the one to apologize. He’d done nothing wrong, after all. 

Besides, here he was all by himself at the top of the mountain. The mouth of an enormous cave loomed before him and he cracked a mischievous smile. There was treasure in there for sure, and he didn’t need anyone else to help him find it. With a haughty sniff, Peter strolled inside the cavern. 

Torth mountain was an interesting part of Neverland. It was one of the few places that never seemed to have much, if any, color, and this cave was no exception. Peter was not one to think things through but even he had to wonder why he’d never noticed the cavern before when he had explored Neverland countless times over. As the darkness surrounded him, a feeling of unease that he wasn’t used to settled in his stomach, and he found himself wishing very much that Tink was there to light the way. 

All that vanished when, just ahead, a distinct orange glow came into view. 

Treasure. Only not the kind Peter had thought.  

The disappearance of all Peter’s qualms, and the rising temptation to approach this strange glow, was anything but chance. A deep, dark magic was at work, pulsating from the object to which Peter now made his way. Light fell across his face in an eerie streak as he studied it, and a strange grin crept across his lips. The object’s shape was like that of an egg, though dark and slick as obsidian. Fiery cracks made their way out from the surface it rested on, the source of its glow. Strangest of all, the closer Peter got, the bitterer his thoughts became. 

If Wendy had been there, she would have certainly been the one to talk sense into him. But she was not, and that alone was enough to drive Peter’s selfish ignorance to dangerous levels.

With a thought of deliberate defiance, he reached out and grabbed the egg. 

Outside, in the space just outside the Lost Boys’ hideout, Yen Sid stood straight up. He felt the change before anyone in Neverland noticed anything at all, but he knew at once that something terrible was about to happen. Slightly, Nibs, and Tootles, all of who seemed clueless as to Peter’s whereabouts, were arguing about something inconsequential when the sorcerer lifted his hands in a rush of magic to silence them. They looked at him with both frustration and confusion, wondering why they were suddenly unable to produce any sound. But in the wake of their own quiet, a distinct silence fell over all of Neverland. 

Mickey had been clumsily making his way through Tink's flight lesson when a deafening noise thundered across the island. It was enough to frighten away all his happy thoughts, if only momentarily, and he plummeted to the sand with a yelp. Tink remained hovering in the air, hardly moving as she stared up at one distinct part of the island where a plume of smoke and fire exploded into the air.