----------------------------------------------------
“We can’t let this happen to her?� Stretching out her wings the young fairy rolled around upon cool earth.

“We shouldn’t interfere, it’s not our place.� The elderly fairy scolded.

“I think we should wait and see until we do something.� Absentmindedly the longhaired fairy turned another page in her book.

“You mean we have to wait?! Wait until she’s hurt? I can’t do that!� The youngest fairy jumped up, riled up her wings flitted anxiously, creating a small wind that moved her clothes and hair in a swirl.

“But we shouldn’t even be here. It’s not right to interfere if her life would have been this way anyway!� The elderly fairy flumped down onto ground, a poof of fairy lights blew from around in her in gentle mist.

“But we have already interfered.� The fairy reading slid a piece of a leaf in between some pages and closed the book. Her piercing gaze lifted to the other two.

“That’s right!�


“I’m not sure…�

“…It’s too late. We are here.�

“Att is right!� Pree tossed herself at Att.

“Pree don’t get over excited.� Clarry stood again brushing the dirt form her clothes. Her small fingers rubbed through her greyed curls.

“Clarry we are just gonna have to accept the facts and see what happens.� With this final statement, all three fairies set a look of determination upon their faces, they were going to help their friend no matter what.
--------------------------------------------------

Chapter One

The early morning sun crested the mountains late today. The world was bright and fresh, two years of wars throughout the world and yet this valley seemed untouched. Early morning songbirds hit their high notes just as the sun’s rays started dancing upon the small ponds throughout the small town. The wood and stone houses were not in even rows and columns but in a circular pattern and in the middle was a simple structure. A stone wishing well, with a single bucket, barely able to hold a gallon of water, held across the middle by a single hook. No one ever used this simple well for two very simple reasons. First was that there were so many ponds in between and surrounding the town that water was abundant, but the more important reason no one ever used this particular well was simply that it was empty. In fact the curious thing was that this well was never full of anything besides air, fresh air, but air non-the-less. After a well-meaning rain, the well was, if anything, dryer.

Around the same time, when the songbirds began, each of the houses with in the town began to stir. In the most inner ring with the richest of the households, servants were readying the household for their masters. Within the second ring, wives started waking and making breakfast for their working husbands of the trades. The third ring was the latest to wake of the four, because what good is the shops when no one else is awake, but the did rise and dust out their shops ready for the day. And throughout the final ring men and women and the children of the households all rose at once to greet the day and begin their hard earned keep for the coming time.

All the fourth ring houses that is, except for one. The only house of its kind in that town, it was banished to the fourth ring. Although in terms of wealth this particular house could have been in the second circle, but the sheer size of the building pushed it to the back. But it was understandable to be that big, for how else would an Inn make money if there were no extra rooms. Built of wood only it was an older building but sturdy with its three floors of ten rooms. Inside on the ground floor in the back west corner was the smallest room, with nothing but a pile of blankets on an old small straw mattress thrown in a corner and in another corner an old mirror rusted into place, leaning against an old bookshelf with only a small lamp sitting upon the first shelf.

The town was starting to wake and with it so was the inn. Within the haphazard pile of blankets there was a stirring. Birds continued chirp and tweet outside, with each passing moment the movement beneath the blankets increased, until finally the blankets were pushed aside showing a scrawny young women. Brushing her messy chestnut hair from her face she rolled off her bed yawning. Walking out the back door to the yard she washed herself off with the cool water in the horses water trough. Next to the trough she took her dried clothes from the wire where it was drying. Walking back inside her room, the lamp had been light and was perched atop the bookshelf now.

“Good morning everybody.� Fran threw her outer layer of dress over her undershirt she’d slept in. The starchy brown fabric rough against her dry skin.

The mirror creaked softly and mumbled a “g’morning dearie.� Responding with a chipper “Good morning!� the lamp was already very awake. And as was normal this early in the day the bookshelf made no response, except maybe a low growl.

Her hair firmly tied and looped behing her head, Fran took one last look in the mirror. Her pale blue eyes were shocking against her tanned skin, and with her small mouth pinched she looked like almost pixyish. Of course the pixie-likeness may be from her somewhat pointed ears and sharp nose, and the almond shape of her light eyes.

“Girl ain’t you awake?� A deep growl came from the other side of the inside door. “Hurry up lazybones! There are chores to be done now! We’ve got paying customers to take care of.�

Fran snorted to herself at the idea of paying customers. It was beginning of fall, otherwise known as the inn’s slow season. All the summer folk had gone home and all the folks that are staying for winter hadn’t started coming yet. So for now besides her own mother and stepfather, Fran was only caring for a single trapper and his three mutts. But still, even if it was an exaggeration in number, she knew that chores would have to be done if she didn’t want to be in trouble. Her stepfather Thed loved to bully her, but at least is she did her chores he had less excuses to take out his frustration on her.

In the kitchen she started checking the pantry for ingredients, outside the kitchen window the town was getting louder. More people were awake, children were chasing the chickens around the yard as mothers gathered the eggs. Sons were chopping the firewood for the day, men were opening shops. The scent of stew and bread wafted through the town.

The moon was still visible in the sky along with a few faint stars. Her mother came up behind her, and seeing what her daughter was looking at shivered.

“Get back inside. Your inviting bad luck on the inn, staring at the day moon like that.�

“Ma, why is the moon out now?� Fran sighed wistfully, she’d asked her mother many times, however the storyteller in her ma loved telling the tale.

“You know as well as I do. Enough dreaming Fran, you’ll be seventeen in less than moon’s wane and your too old for silly tales.� Unabashed from her ma’s cold shoulder Fran leaned into her ma’s side. Fran stayed looking at the day moon, but she felt her ma’s stiff body relax with her daughter’s warmth.
“Alright, fine. But mark my words this’ll be the last time you hear the words from my mouth.� Ma took a slow bow until her bottom had settled down on kitchen stool. Fran settled at her ma’s side, eyes still fixated on the star pale sky. “It was said long ago, the sun and the moon always shared the sky. They got along well, unlike today where they are seen as opposites rather they were seen as sisters. Each of them had a fairy court, and depending which season reigned depended which court too was in charge. One year, many years ago, it was the time of the court change from the Summer court of the Sun to the Wistful court of the Autumn Moon, two young humans thought they’d play a joke on the fairy people. To show the changing of the court, there was a coin that reflected colors under the sun and moon’s light. Well deep in the night when all the fairies were rested, the two young lads stole the coin. The day when all the fairies awoke, terrible emotions awoke within all the fairy folk. Those of the Autumn Moon court were angry, accusing the Summer Court of foul play; the Summer Court was always a fiery bunch and rallied to their own defense. But the coin could not be found and there was no way to settle matters. Meanwhile the two lads thought themselves very witty, but they grew fearful of the coin they had stolen, in reflection to the trouble in the court the coin glinted when there was no light and was dark when there was sun. Finally when the coin seemed to burn like fire the lads decided the joke was over and it was time to return the coin. They went again in the dead of the night, but instead of peaceful slumber of fairy folk they found the caverns empty. None of the fairy folk were to be seen.�

“What happened to the fairies? What about the coin?� Ma looked at the young eyes looking at her. Chatising her self inwardly for caving into her daughter’s childish whims.

“Well, some say that the fairies are all dead, that in a fight for power a war was waged and all were killed. Some say that the courts split and caused a rift in the world’s magical balance. And when the moon is in the day sky like it is now, it means that the folk are battling somewhere, it’s been so long though they forget why they are fighting, it’s just an endless battle for a court that will probably never be again.� Her daughter’s eyes were glazed over, watching the starry day sky. Ma’s hard heart came back, bitter of her daughter’s dreaminess she stood abruptly knocking Fran over. Fluffing her dress back out, she added cruely. “And most know that fairies never existed, and the only thing to dream about it life is working hard for money. Not silly fairy tales.� Turning back in the doorway she looked over the kitchen. “I don’t feel well you take care of the meal.�

********ok this is just a note about story 2-- If someone reads story two, tell me what you think about the fairy tale (with in the fairy tale lol) i want to make sure it's understandable- but still kinda vague because points will be filled in later- but if there is anything obviously wrong if someone could let me know******** (oh and thanks in advance)

Fran sat still a moment longer on the floor. Her mother had disappeared behind the doorway. The web of magic that had covered her eyes at the site of the starry day was gone; her mother had torn through it. Left sitting on the damp wooden floor, just outside the light coming in from the window, her face was shadowed. But even when she had stood and risen into the light to close the shutters, her eyes remained darkened.

“What are you doin’? Standin’ there and wastin’ my time and money?� Thed’s bulky form lumbered in from the dining room. Fran mumbled a soft apology for the sake of pleasing him, but her fleeing form only pissed him off more. A few quick steps and he had a fistful of her shirt, not to mention her arm in his clutches. “What the f*** is your problem?� He snarled, small drips of spit spattered on her face. A futile attempt to loosen her arm to wipe of the spit was thwarted as his grip tightened. “You afraid of me b***h?� Raising her eyes to meet his, Fran said nothing. “Stop looking at me with those eyes! Worthless filth, you’d better be afraid and stop looking at me like that.� Leaning into her ear he whispered darkly, “Or I’ll make you afraid.� Twisting her arm back until she squealed, he threw her to the ground and continued through the kitchen to the back yard. Once again fallen to the floor Fran was still.

“Are you still there on the floor?� Her mother had reappeared. “I want some jam with my bread and eggs. You’d best be on it, Thed should eat soon or he won’t have enough energy to go to the market. He’s selling that worthless horse today, we’d best get some money before she croaks.�

“If you actually fed her well enough, then she wouldn’t be sick.� Fran spoke softly, her tone more of an inflection than accusation.

“What was that? Are you back talking your Ma?� Fire alit in the tired women’s eyes. Walking to her daughter on the floor, she stamped her foot inches from the calloused fingers. Reflex alone moved Fran’s fingers from danger. Finally regaining some strength in her legs and spirit she stood to face her Ma. Now with her daughter looming over her, the old women lost steam, muttering to herself she walked back to the dinning room.

Forgoing the task of getting eggs until her stepfather had returned back inside, Fran went to her room where coincidentally the jelly, among several over preserves were stored. Skirting the outside of the building to the left she stepped over the small bushes to her door. Feet set in the earth, the groaned under her weight until gave way and she was able to slip into her room. As of late, sleep had been coming easier and more often to her, so even though she new better than to risk being caught napping, Fran tumbled clothes and shoes all, onto her bed.

“Tough morning dearie?� The old mirror rusted into place, attempted to right itself, but only managing to bang several times against the bookshelf.

“Yeah…I guess.� Fran closed her eyes, and started to think of the stars outside. “Guys? Do you know anything about the warring fairy kingdoms?�

“That old fairy tale?� The bookshelf scoffed.

“Nothing but lies the humans came up with to scare their young.�

“Att don’t talk like you know.� The lamp tried wiggling out from being trapped behind the mirror on the shelf. “Sorry Fran you can’t ask us. We’re house elves for one, forever bound to humans like its always been, you know that. And besides, none of us our old enough, that happened hundreds of years ago, if that.� Finally wiggling free the lamp settled on top the bookshelf beaming.

Rolling over onto my back I stared at my ceiling. If I’d counted right I had another ten seconds before my alarm went off…five…four…three…two…one. Beep! Beep! Beep! Yet another sleepless night to add to my long list. Not like it mattered since I moved I didn’t have school, didn’t want to start a new semester at a new place with so little time left.

I rolled over and hit snooze. I knew even know with my mind in a static state I wouldn’t be able to sleep, but I felt like I should try. I rolled back on my side and watched out my window. Not much of a view since my parent’s property was surrounded by forest, but I took a bitter sweet feeling of happiness from the overcast sky. It was as if the weather finally fit my mood. Moving from sunny southern California to frigid Washington had seemed painful at first, but now I just simply floated in the melancholy of it all. What did it matter that this was the last place I wanted to be, my voice had long ago been swallowed by the all consuming void of my meaningless existence.

Finally, I eased into a light sleep somewhere between my dreams and my wishes. I drifted into the same blissful dream I‘ve had since then.

After what seemed like a long sigh, the dream was over and I was back in reality, but it didn’t mean I had to like that fact. So I decided I would continue to ignore the pressure I felt of another body in my bed. Besides, it’s not like I didn’t know who it was. Melissa was the only person who knew I existed besides the servants (but they were paid to do that so I don’t really count them).

True to her inability to be still, I felt her rock back and forth against my leg. She undoubtedly knew I wasn’t asleep, but she never made the first move so early with me. When I finally cast my dark eyes on her she let out an exasperated sigh and flopped length wise next to me.

Her fingers traced the shadows under my eyes. “You don’t sleep enough.� A smile tugged my lips, no need to argue since I haven‘t had a good nights sleep in years. Her face was wrought with concern (like always), her soft blond curls cascading around her, she was a picturesque image of a concerned angel. However as soon as she saw my smile, however small it may be, her eyes sparkled and her face changed to a look I’d learned to fear.

Soft eyes started to blaze, soft pout changed into a enthusiastic, yet, hard, smile. She then proceeded to yell at me. “Get up! No more of the lazing about it bed! If you think we moved back into this castle just so you could play the princess wasting away inside, you’ve got another thing coming. I‘m young shining knight come to get you off your lazy arse!� By now, she was straddling me and pointing dramatically in my face, before rolling off to continue with her inspirational pep talk. Her vivaciousness never ceased to amuse me. Then, and I don’t know whether it was to further her point or merely an outburst of her uncontainable energy, Melissa started jumping on my bed, jarring me down to the bone, no mercy was spared on my old mattress. Attempting to escape I rolled on my side to get off my bed, but she chose that exact moment to land next to me. The extra momentum pushed me foreword, into a rather loud bellyflop onto the floor.

I had the wind knocked out of me but, ah, it felt good on the floor. As it was in all the rooms on the second story, my cheek lay against cool hardwood. I relished the coolness, which was tingling against my warm skin. Since I’d moved to Washington I seemed to have retained California heat, so much in fact that Melissa deemed me her personal heater for excursions to the movies, market or wherever. Or maybe it was just an accumulation of heat I had stored from not leaving my down blankets the last few days.

Long golden strands preceded Melissa’s concerned face as she lay next to me. “Good day?� she asked tentatively. I nodded slowly as she helped me off the floor. Every day since, that day she asked me that question. For the first year I didn’t respond. When I came back from the hospital though, I vaguely remember inclining my head, a surprising outburst of tears had me frightened. Then I realized, she was happy. So if only for her sake I continue to nod when she asked me, whether or not I felt like it. I want her to be happy at least. Do what I can, she just can’t let it go.

Today was Wednesday so while I went to the bathroom to shower, Melissa went down stairs to talk to the Frida, Gregory, and Petunia, the household staff. Feeling particularly lazy I didn’t bother with soap I just let the hot water rush over me. Even standing became tiresome so I lay down in the bathtub with the shower water rushing over me. The porcelain by my head, out of reach of the hot shower water, was icy like my bedroom floor. What before was a comfort though, was now in contrast and too chilling, so I slid lower further so that my feet touched the porcelain of the other side. The only thing I liked about this enormously ridiculous house was that the showers and bathtubs were also ridiculously long, with my feet against the one side my fingers just brushed the far side when I reached up past my head. The hot water covered my body, tickling me faintly on my stomach and face and the drops fell on me. I don’t remember when I closed my eyes but when Melissa called my name from the other side of the glass I found them fluttering open.

“Jaimi? Are you still in the shower? Come on out, we’re all waiting for you to come down so we can have breakfast.� Silence as she waited for my answer. I rolled on my side facing away from the door, squeaking softly as my skin unstuck from the tub. A grating noise sounded as Mellissa slid the glass door open, I heard her tsking me as she turned the water off. “You shouldn’t have stayed in so long you look like a shriveled prune.� Without the warm water I shivered uncomfortably. We never turned the heater on for the entire house, it seemed too wasteful. Melissa gently pulled me up into sitting position, she laid a towel across my wet head, “Get up, get dressed and come down stairs.� she ruffled the towel against my hair. Her footsteps faded as she made her way to the elevator down the hall. The lack of warmth was starting to claw its way to my very core, replaced by the chill my body uncontrollably shivered. The towel, although cold also, did alleviate some of my discomfort by soaking up the water. One I started the meticulous task of drying, I found it hard to stop. I rubbed under my arms, around my body, my legs and finally wrapping the towel around my hair to absorb any remaining water.

Melissa had left an outfit for me on the long counter. I itched uncomfortably against the foreign cotton fabric, my mind thinking a little too hardly about the many buttons my fingers were manipulating. My last few days in bed were only between my skin and my fleece, but unfortunately my only fleece were some nightgowns, and Melissa wouldn’t allow me out of the house like that. I remembered, now that I was somewhat conscious, that today she wanted to take me to go shopping and visit her family. She’d gone the last few days on her own, therefore allowing me to sleep all day, but today was promised to be different. I dreaded the thought of being in a crowd, but after she sacrificed the last few years to be with me I couldn’t deny her anything that would make her happy.
Unwrapping the towel I threw it in the hamper and headed towards the elevator, with no second thought to my hair. I pushed the silver button alit and waited patiently as the door’s opened. Although I know its very lazy to take an elevator down one story, the stairs were on the other side of the house and it was too much of a hike. Besides, our elevator music was Debussy, the only music I heard anymore. The dip of the elevator although only one story, always left me slightly light headed. When the crisp air rushed into my face, as the doors opened I stumbled out into small hall. Bypassing the ridiculous fountain I went through the double doors of the dining room, and through the single door leading to the kitchen.
Of the rest of the house, the kitchen was my favorite place. The third and fourth floors were empty and a mess from abandonment, the second floor was always cold, but here, between the wood and the fireplace and my chef, Frida, there was warmth. The household staff, although having formal titles of Head Chef, Butler, and Head Maid, were nothing but babysitters when my parents were gone on business. I’d known them my whole or most of my life, they, like Melissa, sacrificed everything for this prison with me. I’d believe in the goodness of their hearts if not for the high salary I knew the made, for basically doing nothing. They were my keepers, and I know that without the two hundred seventy grand they made each year, with free room, board and food, not to mention full healthcare for everyone in their families and a pension, they’d be gone in a heartbeat.

“Oh dear, young miss you’ll catch your death with wet hair. I was just telling Frida that it was too cold to be natural in this place.� Petunia’s fingers threaded through my hair, picking at the tangles. Petunia was from a large family like Melissa’s, the one time I met them, they were the embodiment of southern hospitality. Although just meeting us, they hugged and kissed and fed me and my brother until we fell asleep at the table. It was one of the good memories I had with him, with everyone. Shaking my head slightly to disturb my pool of thoughts I glided over and sat in a chair beside the counter. Petunia was still trying to detangle my hair with her long polished fingernails, but when Frida set down a cup of coffee with a stern glance, Petunia took her seat.

As was tradition, Gregory’s baritone voice blessed our food and company. With the Amens done, the absence of chatter was normal, for Frida’s cooking was always too delicious. Although there is no denying her food is good, I had no desire to eat this morning, the forced food was a lump in my throat, only to be washed down to a lump in my stomach, sitting heavily. I poised my fork ready to spear a pancake, cutting it into pieces was such a waste of time when I could just nibble on it. My fork only met the granite counter top however, for Melissa had whisked my plate away. With a deft flick of her knife and a twist of her wrist, my plate clattered back in front of me, my pancakes cut into perfect tenths. I shot her an annoyed look, I’m not a child. I could have done that my self, if I’d felt like it.

“Oh don’t give me that look.� Her sharp eyes seem to cut into me. “I picked out a great outfit and you would’ve dribbled syrup all over it.� I glanced at my plate, I’d yet to put syrup on my pancakes, I was in no mood for sweets. However I soon found my opinion unimportant. Melissa had also glanced at my plate, and with a look of horror, promptly added my syrup for me. I did manage to stop her before my plate looked like hers, an ocean of syrup with a small island of pancake in the middle. The thought of the cold soggy pancakes sticking down my throat to my stomach made me queasy. Thankfully while Melissa was absorbed in her pancakes, Frida removed my plate without her noticing. I liked that about Frida, always quiet but definitely the smartest and strongest.

I watched lazily as she did the dishes. Most of her stubborn curls managed to be pulled back into a low ponytail but the few that escaped framed her eyes, giving them even more intensity then they already had. As if sensing my stare, I found her dark almond eyes staring back. Her wiry frame was made even smaller by the surrounding appliances. Our main kitchen was large enough to cook for at least one hundred people at once, but since no dinner parties had been held here in awhile, only Frida was left on as kitchen staff. Her supple lips gave me a small smile before turning back to the dishes, for by now, Petunia had gathered her own and Gregory’s plates, wrestled Melissa for hers and deposited them in the sink.

Wiping away the suds from her finger tips Petunia shot us an inquiring glance. “Well children, what are you up to on this fine day? You must have plans since I haven’t seen young mistress Jaimie at breakfast since we moved here.� She didn’t even try to hide her scorn, she was probably the most adamant against moving away from the sun. As the eldest of the staff, she complained the most frequently and loudly about her joints and aches and pains and being old, which is what I thought all the other stuff was, apparently not. She liked to bestow upon us “young’ins� insightful pearls of wisdom. Melissa’s favorite being, “Ya’ll can consider yourselves old when you’re standing but you butt is still stuck to the toilet seat.� This particular extreme fortune cookie line caused a very long spout of tea to escape Gregory’s mouth, Frida actually chuckled and Melissa was laughing so hard she passed out from lack of oxygen. I even vaguely remembering smiling.

“Oh we got plans all right.� Melissa shot me an excited smile, before turning back to everyone. “I’m taking Jaimie and we’re going to visit my family. It’ll be great! My parents bakery is three times the size it was when I left a few years ago and since Jaimi last saw it. And my brothers and sisters are all there because my older brother and sister transferred to a nearby school.� Her excitement, and perhaps the sugar from the syrup, practically had her vibrating.

Petunia sighed at her energy, “You know your old when just watching this kid makes you exhausted.� Petunia shuffled off, probably to take a nap. Gregory smiled, “Ah yes, your parents. It’s been awhile since you’ve seen them. Well children, let me know when your ready to leave. Frida and I needed to go to the grocery store anyway, we can drop you off.� Gregory was the newest to the household, he came when he was young, and was now probably only thirty or so. I never understood why he worked for my parents and I, Frida too. Both of them should be living right now, I understand Petunia since she already has grandchildren and lived her life as a actress in a theatre troupe, all ready to just relax as a live-in babysitter. For a head house keeper I’ve never seen more of a cleaning tool than a dinner napkin.

“Thanks! We just need to grab our jackets.� Melissa took my hand and spun me around, off my chair, and down to the elevator. Melissa dragged me to my bed and quickly brushed my hair down. After a few attempts to do something to it, she gave up and after disappearing into my closet for a minute came and plopped my black flat cap on my head. She’d gotten a beret for herself, along with a matching scarf. Slipping into our boots and jackets we made our way back down stairs.

Gregory and Frida were already waiting for us by the main door, but we left out through a back door at the end of the lower hall. We trekked along one of the trails circling my house, past the pool house and back around front we came to the garage. All six doors were closed, but the car we normally used was all ready, left there from the grocery trip yesterday. Frida and Gregory pushed off some of the snow the had piled on the car overnight. I shivered slightly underneath all my layers, it seems that having left my house, I’d finally lost the rest of my warmth. I guess it had just been an stored accumulation, which now the frigid air tore apart..

Fran turned her face toward the lamp. Her mind was heavy with confusion. It
was hard growing up in a home where she had learned about magic and tales of mystical
creatures, but was discouraged from believing in it. Yet, here she was talking to fairies
herself. Growing up as a child had been nothing short of misery. Constantly picked on
for seeming odd and childish, when she knew she was the only one of her peers to be
witness to the wonders of their world. Her last encounter with another fairy, a water
sprite that used to dwell in a local pond, had been many years ago. Now her only
companions were the three house fairies. She'd never said it aloud but she always
feared that she was only hearing voices. Afraid of the repercussions of showing the fairies to others, she was the only person she knew of that talked to fairy folk. What if, maybe it was all a cruel joke she was playing on herself.

The lamp hopped off the bookshelf, unlighting herself she cam up beside Fran. With her shade tilted up the bulb was able to get a better look at her friend, Fran’s eyes opened a face in the glass. The dark almond eyes were scrunched up in concern giving her very pointed face an even more pinched look, the pointed ears were twitching and the hair cackling with the untamed energy of concern. Fran realized that she was worrying her friends more than necessary, so rising up she dusted off Pree and placed her back atop the bookshelf. Placing a gentle hand on both the mirror and the bookshelf she smiled. “Sorry to worry you guys. I just am so tired.� The undercurrent behind her words left each of the fairies more worried than they had been before. As plain as the magic in their veins they knew that their friend was much more than physically tired.

Once the door had closed and Fran had disappeared down the path to the hen house, all three fairies bloomed forth from their chosen objects in petals of light. In order to stay conspicuous the stayed in their smaller pixyish forms, although ranging in size and colors all of their dark eyes met with determination.

As eldest of the group and mentor to the others, Clarry poofed out her butterfly wings and settled her plump form upon the foot of Pree’s lamp. Long silvery legs, folded until Att sat upright but was slightly lower than Clarry’s propped up figure. Never one for protocal, Pree flumped upon the shelf floor beside them, wriggling until her apron wasn’t bunched up around her waist anymore. Her sharp pixie wings folded against her back so she wouldn’t accidentally jab the others as she tended to do without noticing.

“Well young ones, what do you think we should do? Another few years and we will burn Fran out, we can’t keep borrowing our energy from her.� Clarry removed a lacy handkerchief from her small apron pocket and dabbed her eyes.

“We need to leave.� Face hidden behind a small book removed from her pocket, Att safely wiped the tears too from her eyes. Pree had stayed silent, face buried in her hands she stubbornly kept her dry sobs in her chest. But it was too much for her young fairy’s self to control. Screaming out in frustration her unbridled wings beat furiously , pelting her friends with smarts across there exposed sides as they moved quickly out of the tantrum. High pitched screaming and limbs (and wings) thrashing around vehemently the youngest fairy was out of control.

“I don’t want to!� She screamed. “It’s not fair that we have to leave! What about Fran?! We can’t leave her behind!� Sprays of tears overflowed now until all three were drenched in fine layer of tears. Losing her voice but not her momentum the enraged pixie continued to wreak havoc in the small room. Richoteting from surface to surface, leaving dents and cracks in her wake. Att and Clarry cowered under the bed, they were well aware that an enraged pixie was past their small amounts of power to control. Att had made one desperate save and retrieved her favorite book before it like the others was shredded from Pree’s wings. But Clarry could only watch with wide eyes as Pree narrowly missed the mirror in her rampage. Then two things happened at once, Fran opened the door, called by the racket she heard, distracted Pree ran headlong into the mirror shattering it and falling into a crumpled heap on the floor.

“Pree!� the three ran to their fallen friend. Fran’s thin fingers cupped the small pixie as the other two perched on her shoulder’s looked on with cold eyes. “Pree,� Fran whispered gently, wiping the hair carefully from Pree’s sweaty face. Head whipping shoulder to shoulder she confronted the fairies under either ear. “What on earth is going on in here? What is she all riled up for?� Under her scrutinizing gaze, Clarry’s eyes spilled over with huge tears of sorow, pulling her handkerchief back out she flew under the bed to sob. Att too flew under the bed but to hide behind her book so that Fran wouldn’t see her few tears either. Fran grew frustrated at her silent friends, even the injured Pree had turned her head away. Moving her pillow to her desk she lay, very carefully, Pree atop it, then marching back over she jumped on her bed. The frame creaked with the force of the jump, small clouds of dust billowed forth from the mattress, stamping her feet, Fran purposefully caused more and more dust to empty out. Dusted out from under the bed, the two faeries had no choice but to evacuate. Coughing and dazed it was easy for fran to grab them up and place them on the desk beside Pree’s pillow.

“No more funny stuff! Tell me what’s going on! And tell me fast so we can help Pree.� Hands on hips, Fran stared down her small friends.

“Now dearie, there’s nothing for you to worry about. Att and I will take Pree into the woods and get her fixed up and we’ll be back in a day or so.� Clarry had composed her self but still wasn’t strong enough to look their friend in the eye, she moved over to Pree to find ways to stay busy.

“You didn’t tell me anything. Att,� Fran tried the more reasonable of the faeries. “please, tell me why Pree was so worked up. I haven’t seen her this upset in a long time. And no lies Att, I never lie to you.� Att stared up at her truthful friend, her gaze then shifted to Clarry’s warning glare, back to Fran. Doing the smartest thing she could think of, she bowed out. Taking her small book back from her pocket she settled herself down, back against the wall, face hidden from both sides, ears pricked. “Ah!� Fran cried out. Then settling herself down she looked evenly at her friends. “Fine. If you really can’t tell me I’m sure you have a good reason, but if you think this is over between us your wrong. But I’ll let it go until we help Pree. So what are we going to do?�

The disappointment in Fran’s voice weighed heavily on Clarry’s old heart, but she felt empowered for not having back down. She drew strength from that empowerment, strength to face her friend and tell the only lie of their friendship. “Fran, this will take a few days. Trust us to take care of Pree and everything will be ship shape. You stay here, and we’ll be back in a few days.�
Fran was worried but she knew from experience that when Clarry wanted to be, she was a tough ol’ bird. Over the next hour she skirted her responsibilities of the inn and made her sure her friends had been fed and their clothes were patched up. Fran stitched up a sling from a head kerchief, so that Att and Clarry could more easily carry the unconscious Pree. Finally preparations complete she walked them to the edge of the wood. Trying to speak, Fran choked back a sob. It’d been years since she’d been separated from her friends longer than a day, but she knew that the trip into deep fairy territory would take several days at least. Avoiding hunters and being so small it would be a dangerous journey for them, and with Pree injured all the harder. But finally wiping the tears from her eyes she kissed them each upon the head and waved goodbye. Clarry and Att were resigned, unsure of whether they would could leave without revealing the truth behind their goodbyes. But the warmth of the kisses gave them courage to do what they believed was best for their beloved friend.

Fran watched her small fairy friends until she could no longer see the lopsided like bird fluttering between the trees. Turning back to the inn she braced herself for the lonely feeling. She’d discovered the fairies so long ago it was hard to pinpoint when they became so important in her life, when she had depended on them for the love her human family didn’t provide. Passing by her room she pushed closed the window from the inside and firmly closed the door. Normally the little group kept guard of her room since animals were so easily able to access the side room. But now it was empty and dark, depressed Fran headed around to the back door to let herself in the kitchen.

“Where the hell have you been?� Not really a bellow so much as it was a burp. Her drunken stepfather was laying beneath the keg tap, beer trickling down his chin. The trapper Carls, was slumped against the keg, eyes glazed over he giggled to himself over nothing in particular. Ignoring them both Fran went to the cupboard to grab a small crust of bread before she started cleaning the trappers room. “Hey!� Thed boomed. “Don’t ignore me when I’m talking to you!� Fran uncapped a jar of jam and dipped her finger in. “Filthy!� Thed was trying to get up now, but drunk as he was he couldn’t stop finding the floor, again, again and again. Finger covered in strawberry jam, she wiped it on her bread slice. She returned the jam to the shelf and grabbed her snack, head aching slightly from all the drunken stupidity. “Don’t you walk away from me!� Thed threatened, as he reached a long fat hairy arm out. Fran side stepped her stepfathers grabby hands and swinging arms, she nodded politely when Carls smiled and continued out the kitchen door. If Fran heard the string of curses said about her by the sloshed boob she ignored them. By the time she made it up the stairs Fran was licking the last of the jam and crumbs her fingers. So absorbed in the task, she walked straight into her mother.

“Move it!” Pushing aside her smaller daughter the portly woman, Olga, shuffled into the fourth room. Once she had dumped her load of sheets on the bed she looked at Fran expectantly. Fran, who was still in the hall way, raised her eye brows slightly. If her mother thought she’d help her in anyway, she really was as stupid as she was wide. “Well, don’t just stand there!” Her mother’s deep voice reverberated in Fran’s bones. Fran made to continue on her way down the hall, but her mother was fast. Incredibly fast for a woman of her size. She bounded across the room, immediately pinching and digging her thumb and index finger nails into Fran’s ear. Standing a head taller than her obese porker of a parent, Fran silently bore the pain of being forced to her knees. “Don’t be smart with me missy.” She hissed at Fran. “You disrespect me too much! And I’ve had enough. When I say not to laze around you come help your ma, understand?” Olga yanked her daughter’s face to the floor, or more precisely to her own feet. “See these feet?” When Fran didn’t answer she pushed her face into her dirty bare feet. “These feet are what carried me and you through this world. On my own two feet I took care of you. Now don’t you be disrespectful of me when my feet are scarred and pained from having to carry your weight along with my own.” Fran hastily turned a laugh into a cough, her feet would hurt too if she weighed as much as her mother did. Coughing stirred the dirt on her mother’s feet as well as on the floor, dust in her eyes she blinked furiously and tearfully trying to get rid of the irritation. Misinterpreting her daughter’s tears of irritation for tears of regret, she finally let go of the girl’s ear and went back into the room.

Fran gathered herself up off the floor. Her mother had taken a seat by the window, it had the perfect view of the neighbor’s yard. Bird’s eye view for spying on the the lowly goings ons of those next to their home. Being an inn, their house rose several stories higher than any other place in the outer ring. Fran silently deliberated for a moment whether or not to obey her mother’s laziness inspired orders, but quickly gave in. She went to the bed to sort the clothes and sheets, the fabric was rougher this year, rubbing out hangnails on her dry fingers. Her mother was commentating on every movement of Mrs. Stiller in the yard below. She continued in to the detailed history of all the skeletons in the closest of all the Stiller’s even several generations back. Fran didn’t listen, she felt bad talking behind the back of such kind people. Getting enjoyment from exploitation of those who were kinder to her than her family had even been, dirtied Fran’s conscience. Her mother was still talking when Fran finished and took the folded laundry and walked out of the room down the hall to put them in the closest.

“Mrs. Stiller and her five kids, no self control, that women.” Unintentionally a small snort of laughter escaped her lips. Her mother was now standing in the doorway. Fran stayed several inches back from the flabby arm held out blocking her way. “Are you judging me?” Fran’s steely eyes me her mother’s mud puddle eyes, getting stuck before they could penetrate to the thoughts behind.

Lowering her eyes in humility Fran meekly responded. “Of course not mother.”

A swift slap left a red hand print under Fran’s watering eyes.

her pale skin, but against Fran’s tanned skin the darkened iri“I didn’t think so.” Her mother turned back into the room, taking a seat by the window again. Fran stood silently at the door, studying her mother. Silver trails weaved in and out of her smoky brown hair. Never an attractive woman, age had worn her face even more ragged. Fran had no recollection of her father’s face, but with so many differences from her mother, she could imagine. Her small centered nose was her mothers, but the full lips and large slanted eyes. Dark eyes, on her mother they were small sharp beads black holes against s’s seemed lighter and more reflective. Deep in the pit of her stomach she felt a revulsion for this woman, ashamed of the blood they share, she couldn’t stand her presence anymore.
Between the proverbial rock and the hard place, Fran went to her only haven. A place no one could reach her, a place she could only leave voluntarily. In the northwest corner on the top story if she shimmied out the window and up the side, using the crevices in the chimney as a boost she could sit atop the roof in a single place where she faced the woods. No one could see her up there, no one could reach, back in her room her mother could drag her out but in this little blind spot of the town she was safe.
Once in the nook, Fran curled her knees up to her chest. She wouldn’t cry for her friends, but a cold feeling settled in her heart, stinging with loneliness. Down below the pots and pans rattled, her mother had started dinner for the inn. Muffled curses could be heard every once in awhile. Staying up there until the sun was kissing the far off mountain peaks, a soft swirl of the first snow hugged her. The evening chill chased Fran back inside, shivering under her light dress she made her way to the kitchen fire. Snow on the roof would keep her from her hideaway. It was going to be a long winter.

Chapter 2:

It had been several weeks since her fairy companions had left and Fran’s heart had become stagnant with her loneliness. The monster of anxiety born when her friends left had become an omnipresent weight, clawing at her last bits of sanity. As overcome as she felt however, the idea of leaving the inn was never more than a fleeting thought. Her heart was torn with indecisiveness. She wanted to be with her friends, but she couldn’t leave. She wanted to be escape but she’d never been away and their was a fear of the world which held her feat fast. All she could do was hope that they would come back to her.

“Whelp! Get back to work!” A smart smack against her head brought her roaring back to reality. A warm trickle of blood trailed down her cheek. Thed’s stink brought more tears to her eyes than the hit to the head. His thick knuckles grabbed the front of her dress and sweater, pulling their faces close a rise of bile choked up in Fran’s throat. Fear and anger fogged her mind, even through the layers of cloth his filth seemed to defile her. Finally after another minute of his perverted inhaling he drunkenly released her to throw up to his side. The puddle of vomit steamed in the morning snow, when he was finished he wiped his mouth with his sleeve leaving a brown smear across his chin. He trudged back inside leaving a crumpled Fran on the ground between the vile waste and the laundry she had been washing before her day dreaming. Shaking from the creeping cold and disgust at the memory of Thed’s proximity, she decided to finish up laundry later. Trudging back up the path she sloshed chilly water on her several times before settling the tub besides the back door. Thed’s drunken slurs mixed with Olga’s shrieks of laughter drifted out the window. The tub clanged against the stone steps by the back door, and the tone inside changed.

“Fran!” More pots clattering. “Fran, get in here!” Fran’s hand stretched out, but inches away from the handle she stopped. Ever since her friends had left her repugnant guardians had become worse and worse. Her body a mosaic of colors from the purple, blues and yellows of her scars to her black burns to the red crusted blood and starch white scars. She felt her self being pulled inside, never had the tearing been so strong. The pull to go inside and the pull to run away was ripping her in two. She didn’t understand her desire to stay, but it was almost a physical collar and leash that held her, for her heart had never been at home. “YOU LITTLE PIG DUNG GET IN HERE!” Fran’s fingers closed around the door handle and she let herself in.

Her mother’s beady eyes looked her up and down. “Warm up frosty, then come take over the meal. My feat are killing me.” Fran stood beside the largest kitchen fire, superficial warmth spread over her, but her heart stayed stone. “Fran, bring me some of the coals for this stove.” Getting the small scoop beside the fire place she picked several coals up and made her way across the kitchen floor. A rogue stone tile in the floor was all it took for Fran’s distrait self to trip and spill burning coals across the floor. Hurriedly she tried scooping up the rogue coals, Olga cursed at her and swung a pot of water at Fran’s head distracting her. She dumped the coals she collected into the stove’s furnace. Dropping the scoop she ran out the back door of the inn to seek refuge in her room.

No sooner had she bolted the door and ran to her bed to cling the sheets around her, loud bangs and klunks were heard. Olga’s and Thed’s threats were the only sounds above the banging on the door. The door quaked on its hinges until with a an earth shattering thud the door crashed down and like hell on wheels her caretakers rushed in. Thed hands tangled in her hair and Olga vice like gripe clamped down on her wrist. With the two of them pulling, Fran was lifted clean off her bed and dragged back into the inn, up the stairs the pushed her into the far end broom closest. Forced into the cramped space her pointy knees dug into her chest. Arms were pinned to side, and her neck was bent at an almost unnatural angle. Slamming the cabinet door on her, only a small peephole of light came in.

“Stupid little pig dung this’ll teach ya. Spend the night in here and think about what you done!” Even if Fran could open her mouth to protest it wouldn’t do any good. Thed was too drunk and Olga was too angry, neither would listen to reason. They didn’t care any which way, Fran was the punching bag for all their hostility whether justified or not. A small click and Fran knew they had flicked the latch to keep her in, and now it was only a matter of time before they both got even drunker, a party to send off the trapper on another season of hunting. Fortunately for Fran this was not her first time in that cabinet, to prevent cramping she closed her eyes and relaxed her body going into a state of meditation. Releasing herself until she was in a trance she let herself think back to her friends. She was reveling in her happy memories of her friends when the abrupt changes in the sounds downstairs startled her out of her trance.

“Anyone in here?!”
“Olga! Thed! Ya here?!”
“Don’t see them! Grab their pails!”
“Hurry! The Fire is spreading!”

Fire! Fran’s heart beat wildly in her chest. It was one thing to be locked in a cupboard but it was another to make it her coffin. Where ever Olga and Thed had run off to they had no doubt, forgotten her. Left to herself, she knew she’d have to break herself out if she wanted to escape. As much as she could in the small space she shifted so that she could push off against the wall against the door. To give herself energy, she let the anger and hatred towards her parents erupt and pushed with all her might. After several seconds she tried to relax and gather more energy, the door had given very little. Time was not on her side, before her body was fully charged again she pushed against the door. Soft creaking noises gave her hope and she used every last ounce of self control to keep pushing against her will. After what felt like an eternity, the shriek of wrenched metal Fran tumbled out of the small casket.

Her fight was not over yet, the fire had spread to the inn as was apparent with the heavy layer of smoke everywhere. Coughing Fran shuffled along the floor making her way to the stairs, hoping that they hadn’t collapsed and she would be able to escape. Groping blindly, eyes blinded with tears, she felt something squishy ahead, revolted she pulled back realizing what it was. Now frustrated even more, she knew she couldn’t just leave the passed out drunken lump that was Thed. She hated him with all her being, but she would not have his death on her hands. But to carry him, she would need to stand and her head would completely enshrouded, doubling back into the last room she tried to desperately find the vase of flowers. If she could find it, then she only had to throw out the flowers and pour the water onto her necktie so that she could fasten over her nose and mouth, enabling her to breathe. Opening the window to the room smoke billowed out revealing another drunken lump passed out on the bed, luck was also apparently not on her side.