by Chris Colfer
The other fairies seemed to enjoy the attention much more than Brystal did, especially Lucy.
“Boy, the crowd really loves that Fairy Godmother name,” Lucy said. “Aren’t you glad I gave you a title?”
“I told you I didn’t want one,” Brystal replied. “It makes me feel like an object.”
“Well, as my mother always said, if you’re going to be objectified, you might as well be objectified by family,” Lucy said, and patted Brystal on the back. “Just be glad Fairy Godmother is what stuck—we’ve all been called a lot worse.”
“Excuse me, Brystal?” Emerelda interjected. “It might be best if we make this a quick one. We’ve got a windmill to repair at three o’clock and a farm to defrost at five. Besides, people are starting to foam at the mouth down there.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Brystal said. “Let’s just do what we came here to do and be done with it. There’s no need to cause a bigger fuss than necessary.”
Without wasting another moment, Brystal stepped to the edge of the Western Dam and waved her wand at the damage below her. The giant crack was magically filled with a golden seal, and after more than a week of constant mist, the spewing water finally stopped. To help matters even more, Brystal flicked her wand again and this time sent a powerful breeze through the city that dried all the streets, shops, and homes. The breeze knocked a couple of people to the ground and blew hats off people’s heads, but they returned to their feet with completely dry clothes.
It all happened so quickly it took the citizens a minute to realize their problems were solved. Their roar of appreciation was so powerful it was a miracle the Western Dam didn’t crack again.
“Good, everyone is satisfied,” Brystal said. “Now let’s get going so—”
“Astounding!” the presenter bellowed. “With just a flick of her wrist, the Fairy Godmother has restored the Western Dam and saved Fort Longsworth from a decade of rain! And now the Fairy Council will join King Warworth onstage so he can present them with a token of our kingdom’s gratitude!”
“Say what?” Emerelda said.
The fairies looked down and saw King Warworth was standing on the stage with a large golden trophy. Tangerina and Skylene squealed with delight.
“They want to give us an award!” Skylene said. “I love awards!”
“Can we stay and accept it?” Tangerina asked the others. “Pretty please?”
“Absolutely not,” Emerelda said. “If King Warworth wanted to give us an award, he should have cleared it with me first. We can’t let people take advantage of our time.”
“Oh, lighten up, Em,” Tangerina said. “We’ve worked our butts off trying to gain the world’s approval—and now we finally have it! If we don’t give people a chance to admire us every now and then, we might lose their admiration!”
“I think Tangerina has a point,” Xanthous said. “King Warworth may have broken the rules but his people don’t know that. If they don’t get the ceremony they’re expecting, they’ll probably blame us. And we shouldn’t give them a reason to start hating us again.”
Emerelda groaned and rolled her eyes. She pushed up the sleeve of her robe and checked the emerald sundial around her wrist.
“Fine,” Emerelda said. “We’ll give them another twenty minutes—but that’s it.”
The fairy snapped her fingers, and a long emerald slide magically appeared. It stretched from the top of the dam to the stage below. Emerelda, Xanthous, Tangerina, and Skylene slid down the slide and joined King Warworth on the stage, but Brystal paused before she followed them. She noticed Lucy hadn’t said a word since the dam had been repaired, and instead, she was standing very still, watching the crowd in deep contemplation.
“Lucy, are you coming?” she asked.
“Yeah, I’ll be right there,” Lucy said. “I’m just thinking.”
“Uh-oh,” Brystal said. “It must be serious if you’re missing the chance to be on a stage.”
“Are we doing enough?”
Brystal was confused by the abrupt question. “Huh?”
“We fix dams, we build bridges, we help people—but is it enough?” Lucy elaborated. “All these people traveled here to see something spectacular, and what did we give them? Some sealant and a little wind.”
“Right,” Brystal said. “We gave them exactly what they needed.”
“Yes, but not what they wanted,” Lucy said. “If performing in the Goose Troupe taught me anything, it’s the psychology of an audience. If these people go home disappointed, even slightly, they’re going to be angry with us. And just like Xanthous said, we shouldn’t give them any reason to hate us. If people start resenting the Fairy Council, then soon they’ll start resenting all fairies and boom! The magical community is back to where it started. I think it’d be smart to stick around and give these folks a show.”
Brystal gazed at the city as she thought about what Lucy had said. It was obvious the people were hungry for more magic—they’d been fixated on the Fairy Council since they arrived—but Brystal didn’t want to indulge them. She and the others had worked so hard to get to this point. The idea of working harder just to maintain their position was an exhausting thought. And Brystal didn’t want to think about anything—she just wanted to leave and get away from the crowd.
“We’re philanthropists, Lucy, not performers,” she said. “If people expect a show from us, we’ll always have to give them a show, and where will it end? It’ll be easier to please people and manage their expectations if we keep things simple. Now let’s accept the king’s award, shake a few hands, and keep it moving.”
Brystal slid to the stage before Lucy had the chance to argue, but they both knew their conversation was far from over.
“On behalf of the Western Kingdom, I would like to thank the Fairy Godmother for her grand acts of generosity,” King Warworth told his citizens. “As a token of our eternal gratitude and undying appreciation, I present her with the most prestigious prize in our kingdom, the Dam Cup.”
Before King Warworth could hand the trophy to Brystal, Skylene snatched the award from him and cradled it like a baby. Tangerina nudged Brystal forward, forcing her into an impromptu acceptance speech.
“Um… well, first I’d like to say thank you,” Brystal said, and reminded herself to smile. “It’s always a privilege to visit the Western Kingdom. The Fairy Council and I were very honored that you trusted us with such an important piece of your country. I hope from now on, whenever people look up at the Western Dam, they’ll be reminded of all the potential magic has to offer.…”
As Brystal continued her speech, Lucy studied the citizens in the crowd. They were hanging on every word Brystal said, but Lucy worried it was only a matter of time before they lost interest—they didn’t want to hear about magic, they wanted to see magic! If Brystal wasn’t going to give them the spectacle they desired, then Lucy was. And she was confident her specialty for trouble would do the trick.
When she was certain all the eyes were on Brystal, Lucy snuck off the stage and tiptoed to the base of the Western Dam. She rubbed her hands together, placed both of her palms against the stone landmark, and summoned a little magic.
“This should spice things up,” she said to herself.
Suddenly, the Western Dam started to crack like an eggshell. Chunk by chunk, the dam began to crumble, and water from the Great Western Lake sprayed through the structure. Lucy had figured something strange would happen—it always did when she used her magic—but she hadn’t expected the whole dam to fall apart! She screamed and ran back to her friends as fast as she could.
“… if we leave you with anything, let it be a newfound appreciation, not just for the Fairy Council, but for magic as a whole,” Brystal said as she concluded her speech. “And in the future, I hope mankind and the magical community will be so close it’ll be hard to imagine a time when there was any conflict between us. Because at the end of the day, we all want the same—”
“Brystal!” Lucy shouted
.
“Not now, Lucy, I’m finishing my speech,” Brystal said without looking.
“Dam!”
“Lucy, watch your mouth! There are children—”
“NO! LOOK AT THE DAM! BEHIND YOU!”
The Fairy Council turned around just as the entire Western Dam collapsed. The Great Western Lake surged toward Fort Longsworth like a thousand-foot-tall tidal wave.
“Lucy!” Brystal gasped. “What did you—”
“RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!” King Warworth screamed.
Fort Longsworth was consumed with panic. The citizens pushed and shoved one another as they tried to flee, but the city was so crowded there was nowhere to go. When the tidal wave was just a few feet from colliding with its first victims, Brystal leaped into action. A wind with the power of a hundred hurricanes erupted from the tip of her wand and blocked the wave like an invisible shield. It took all of Brystal’s strength to hold her wand steady, and she was able to stop the majority of the water, but there was too much to stop on her own.
“Xanthous! Emerelda!” Brystal called over her shoulder. “You two stop the water coming around the sides of my shield! Skylene, make sure the water doesn’t spill over the top! Tangerina, help the people get to safety!”
“What about me?” Lucy asked. “What can I do?”
Brystal shot her a scathing look. “Nothing,” she said. “You’ve done enough!”
As Lucy watched helplessly, the rest of the Fairy Council followed Brystal’s commands. Xanthous ran to Brystal’s left side and blasted the oncoming water with fire, causing it to steam and disappear. Emerelda created an emerald wall to block the water on Brystal’s right side, but the wave was so powerful it knocked the wall down, forcing Emerelda to rebuild it over and over again. Skylene waved her hand in a large circle, and the water spilling over the top of Brystal’s shield looped through the air and poured back into the Great Western Lake. While her friends blocked the water, Tangerina sent her bumblebees into the frantic crowd, and the swarm scooped up children and elderly people before they were trampled.
Although the Fairy Council put up a quick and effective barrier, Lucy knew her friends couldn’t block the wave forever. She disregarded Brystal’s instructions and came up with a plan to help them. Lucy whistled for her geese, and the flock swooped down and plucked her off the ground.
“Take me to the hill next to the lake!” she said. “And make it quick!”
The geese carried Lucy to the hill as fast as they could. They dropped her off on the hillside, and, once again, Lucy landed on her behind with a thump—but she didn’t have time to scold the birds. From the hill, Lucy had a perfect view of the Fairy Council as they fought off the monstrous wave. She could tell her friends were getting tired, because the water was pushing them closer and closer to the city.
“I really hope this works,” Lucy prayed.
She summoned all the magic in her body and hit the ground with a clenched fist. Suddenly, hundreds and hundreds of grand pianos appeared out of thin air and tumbled down the hillside. It caused a thunderous—not to mention musical—commotion. All the panicked citizens froze and watched the bizarre landslide in awe. The pianos crashed onto the ground and piled up between the Fairy Council and the enormous wave. The instruments kept coming and coming, and soon the pile grew over the fairies’ heads. Within moments, a completely new dam was created, and Fort Longsworth was saved by a barrier of broken pianos.
It had been the most stressful and chaotic five minutes in the Western Kingdom’s history—but the citizens had also just witnessed the most spectacular sight of their lives. They clapped and cheered so loudly the ovation was felt in neighboring kingdoms.
Lucy hurried down the hill to check on her friends. The fairies were so furious none of them could look her in the eye.
“Well, that was a doozy,” Lucy said with a nervous laugh. “Are you guys all right?”
“You walking nightmare!” Skylene shouted.
“What the heck were you thinking?” Tangerina asked.
“You could have killed us all!” Emerelda yelled.
“And obliterated an entire city!” Xanthous cried.
Lucy shrugged innocently. “Hey, at least I gave a dam.” She laughed. “Get it, guys? Get it?”
Brystal let out a long, aggravated sigh to make her anger perfectly clear. Lucy was used to infuriating the others, but she couldn’t remember the last time she had disappointed Brystal. She sheepishly lowered her head and kept her hands in her pockets for the remainder of their visit.
“We’ll discuss this later,” Brystal told the fairies. “Right now, we need to apologize for Lucy’s behavior and leave before we lose mankind’s trust forever!”
The Fairy Council followed Brystal back to the stage, but they quickly realized an apology wasn’t necessary. The citizens were so bewildered by all the magic they had never stopped cheering. King Warworth returned to the stage and profusely shook the fairies’ hands—even he was spellbound by the day’s events.
While the fairies were distracted by the endless praise, four wheels and six horses were covertly hooked up to the stage. The stage unexpectedly lunged forward and it was pulled through Fort Longsworth like an enormous wagon.
“What’s happening?” Xanthous asked.
“Why, it’s time for the parade, of course,” King Warworth said.
“You never said anything about a parade!” Emerelda griped.
“Didn’t I?” King Warworth played dumb. “It’s a Western Kingdom tradition to give our guests of honor a parade through the capital.”
Emerelda growled and flared her nostrils. “All right, that’s it!” she exclaimed. “We put up with an unexpected audience, we were nice enough to accept your award, but we will absolutely not participate in a stupid—”
“Em, just let the man give us a parade,” Tangerina said. “We’ve earned one.”
“It’s the least we could do after Lucy almost destroyed their city,” Skylene said.
Emerelda wasn’t happy about it, but her friends were right—there had been enough conflict for one day. She glared at King Warworth and aggressively stuck her finger in his face.
“Expect a letter from my office tomorrow morning,” she told him. “And fair warning, it’ll have some strong language.”
The Fairy Council was paraded down every street in Fort Longsworth, and even though the ordeal lasted much longer than they anticipated, the fairies ended up enjoying themselves. The citizens were practically buzzing with excitement, and their happiness was infectious. The fairies smiled, laughed, and occasionally blushed at the eccentric displays of affection.
“I love you, Fairy Godmother!”
“I want to be you when I grow up!”
“You look fabulous today, Fairy Godmother!”
“You’re my hero!”
“Marry me, Fairy Godmother!”
Brystal smiled and waved as much as the other fairies, but on the inside, she wasn’t as gleeful as her friends were. In fact, being closer to the citizens made Brystal even more uncomfortable than before. She desperately wanted the parade to end so she could get away from all the smiling faces, but still, she couldn’t explain why.
The parade may have been unexpected, but it was also a huge milestone for the fairies. The cheering crowds were proof that the Fairy Council had changed the world—the magical community was finally accepted and safe from persecution! It didn’t make sense for Brystal to feel anything but triumphant, but for whatever reason, her heart wouldn’t let her.
Because none of this is real.…
The voice came out of nowhere and startled Brystal. She looked around the traveling stage but couldn’t find who it was coming from.
Deep down, you know this won’t last.…
It was as soft as a whisper, but despite the commotion of the parade, the voice was crystal clear. No matter which way Brystal turned or where she stood, it was like someone was speaking directly into both of her ears at once. And whoever they were,
they sounded awfully familiar.
Their affection…
Their excitement…
Their joy…
It’s only temporary.
Brystal stopped trying to find the voice and focused on what it was saying. Was mankind’s affection really as fickle as the voice suggested? People’s opinion of magic had changed so quickly, was it possible they’d change their minds again? Or worse, was it inevitable?
Not long ago, the people cheering for your parade would have cheered just as loudly for your execution.…
I wonder how many fairies were dragged through these same streets before being burned at the stake.…
I wonder how many were drowned in the lake you just saved the city from.
The voice made Brystal feel unsafe. As she gazed upon the crowd, she saw the citizens in a different light. There was something sinister behind their smiles and something primitive about their undying praise. She no longer felt like an honoree among admirers—she was a piece of meat among predators. But this wasn’t a new epiphany. This was the reason Brystal had been uncomfortable from the moment she’d arrived, she just hadn’t been able to articulate it until now.
Mankind may have forgotten about the horrors of history, but Brystal would never forget what they had done to witches and fairies like her in the past. And she’d never forgive them either.
They may celebrate you today…
But eventually, they’ll grow tired of celebrating you.…
Mankind will hate you and your friends, just as they did before.
It suddenly dawned on Brystal why the voice sounded so familiar. It wasn’t coming from someone nearby, it was coming from inside her head. She wasn’t hearing voices—these were her own thoughts.
History always repeats itself.…
The pendulum always swings.…
