A Month of Midnights
VI

The faery was looking at me crudely when I came to. A slimy grin spread over his plump cheeks as he watched me struggle. Night had fallen, and lanterns strung in the trees cast eerie yellow light on the faery’s balding head. He flew over to Upright who was tied up next to me against the trunk of a wide tree.

“Let me go, you grimy little insect!” Upright hissed. The faery chuckled.

“Insulting the governor will not help you replace a guide to protect you in the Forest,” tisked the faery. Upright looked at me skeptically.

“You’re the governor of this village?” he asked.

“Yes,” he answered, “and it’s my job to protect my faeries from travelers like you who think they can just swipe innocent creatures away for their own benefit!”

“Those weren’t our intentions,” I reminded the governor.

“Oh, really?” asked the governor turning to me. “Then why were you surveying the village like some wild animal choosing its prey?” I bit my lip.

“We were unsure?” I said, unsure myself. The governor laughed.

“You humans are all the same, lying and selfish. Every Month of Midnights, we faeries must heighten our defenses because of fools like you!” he retorted. Upright squirmed in his ropes. “Don’t try and escape, dwarf. Failure is inevitable if you do,” warned the faery. I saw the blood almost burst out of Upright’s eyes.

“I am not a dwarf. I am a very small man!” Upright barked. The governor rolled his eyes. He flew closer to Upright’s face, pushing up his spectacles as he did so. Upright growled under his breath.

“Did I offend you, dwarf?” whispered the governor with a despicable grin.

“Very small man,” Upright growled. The governor snorted.

“Dwarf,” he repeated.

“Very small man!”

“Dwarf!”

“Very small man!”

“By Golde, you are a dwarf and always will be!” shouted the governor. Upright sucked in his lips and spat on the faery. The impact of the saliva sent the little faery flying back, his wings barely preventing him from crashing into a nearby tree.

“Upright!” I scolded, but he only laughed at his naughty deed. The governor returned, wiping the spit from his face.

Shaking his fist at Upright, the governor shouted angrily, “I can promise you this, dwarf, you will never get one of my faeries to be your guide. You can count on that!” The faery turned and began to fly away back to the dim lights of the village. I knew we wouldn’t have another chance after he left.

“Wait! Please, sir! Hear us out! Give us another chance!” I called out, straining against the ropes that held me captive.

“I’ve heard enough!” came the answer.

“You haven’t heard me,” I replied firmly. “Give me a chance.” The faery, at the edge of the lanterns’ light, paused and turned around.

“I suppose I haven’t heard you,” he admitted as he flew back. “I’ll give you one minute.”

“Sir, I understand you want to protect your faeries, but I promise you, we will not hurt them. I need a faery guide because I owe it to Upright and to my horse Rudy, who I’ve put in danger because my quest to replace the Writer will take longer. They’re both in need of the Writer’s help, probably more than I do, and they deserve a chance at a better fate too,” I said earnestly. The governor looked at me blankly. He glanced up into the tree branches and gave a shrill whistle. A faery guard descended from his post at one of the lanterns and came to his leader.

“Yes, sir?” asked the guard.

“Release the girl,” he ordered. He glanced at Upright and added, “and retie the ropes on the dwarf extra tight.” Two minutes later, I had been freed by the guard and was walking carefully down to the village with the governor hovering near my shoulder.

“Sir, may I ask where my horse is?” I inquired.

“He is by the stream getting some rest. I have some of my best animal communicator faeries watching over him. That horse of yours, he has good soul. Faeries can sense that in other creatures almost immediately,” he complimented. We reached the first little house in the village. A firefly was resting on a flower that grew by the front door of the house, providing a pleasant night light for the resident. I looked farther up and saw all the houses had firefly lights of their own.

“That horse is one of kind,” I agreed.

“Please, go no further. I can’t risk you accidentally crushing one my faeries in the dark,” said the governor.

“Oh, of course,” I said as I automatically took a step back.

“Tell me, where did you replace him?” the governor asked, returning to the previous subject.

“Well, he actually found me. I believe he was sent to me, but I don’t really know why,” I admitted, flashing back to Queen Golde coming to Rudy in the night.

“Do you know why I let you go?” the governor asked abruptly. “Do you know why I trusted you enough to free you?” I thought for a moment.

“I can imagine many reasons, sir, but as to which one is right, I do not know,” I said with a simple shrug. The governor lifted his hand and pointed to the village.

“Do you see the house off to the left? Just above the clover bloom patch?” he asked. My eyes quickly searched through the fireflies and found the house he was referring to.

“Yes, I see it. Why do you mention it?” He smiled, but he wasn’t looking at me. He was looking at the house.

“That is my home,” he said kindly. “My wife blessed me with a daughter, and those two women are the only thing I love more than protecting this village.” The governor paused. “Miss, how much do you know about faery life?” he asked.

I replied, “Not much.”

“Faeries are here mainly to maintain the forest. We care for the animals and the wildlife, preserving Istoria’s enchanted beauty. Occasionally, a few faeries are selected to play minor roles in a Story. Just like your culture in Chorio, this is the highest honor. And my daughter Minnie, well, she wants nothing more than to be in a Story.” His voice sounded burdened with guilt.

“Is there a reason she does not have a chance to be chosen?” The governor exhaled slowly.

“I have cursed my own daughter. My family has always had a line of genes that makes us a bit more plump,” he explained as he pat his belly, “and my daughter has inherited them. When people think of a faery, they think of a skinny, pretty little creature who flies around gracefully. No story will take a fat ole girl like Minnie, and it’s my own fault.” He reminded me so much of Mother, wanting only the best for their less than fortunate child. The pain of my own betrayal stung me once again. The faery governor looked away from his home and back at me.

“You mentioned that you wanted to replace the Writer for not just yourself, but for that atrocious dwarf and your horse too. You said they deserved a chance at a better fate too,” the governor reminded me. “I only want that for Minnie. She is almost twenty-five in human years, and her youth will be gone before the next Month of Midnights comes. If she guides you and protects you with her magic, you must promise me that she will see the Writer as well and be changed into a more slender faery.”

I was rendered speechless. What he was offering me was a deal that I couldn’t guarantee I could hold up on my end. On one hand, the governor was offering me his own daughter to guide us. All my presumptions of his character had melted away when I saw how big his love for his child really was. On the opposite side, I could never promise that the Writer would help. I didn’t even know if he would help me, let alone Rudy or Upright or now Minnie. How could I say yes and raise the poor faery’s hopes?

“Sir, what could the Writer do? Her fate isn’t written in a Story like ours are. There would be nothing for him to rewrite,” I attempted to reason.

“Yes, yes, I know, but surely his magic is powerful enough to shave a few pounds off a faery?” the governor replied. I opened my mouth but found no words to speak. I was trapped in a corner. “Miss, I wouldn’t ask this of just anyone,” the governor begged. “I barely know you, but I know I can trust you! You may be Minnie’s only chance to reach her dreams. I ask this of you not just as a governor but as a father.” If it weren’t for his wings, the governor would have been practically grovelling on his knees. My heart was pulled back and forth. We needed Minnie so much, but the risk if I failed would crush a whole family’s spirits.

“May I, uh, see my horse?” I asked sheepishly. “I do my best thinking around him.” I could tell the faery was not convinced.

“I don’t suppose you plan to run away, do you?” he asked suspiciously.

“No, sir, please don’t think that!” I insisted. “I just need to think this over. I don’t want to promise you something I can’t.”

“Oh,” said the governor quietly, “I see. Well, let me show you the way.” He silently led me back up the boulder and down to the stream. A single lantern dangled above the treetops and shed light on Rudy who was eating a carrot being held up by three faeries. When Rudy noticed I was back, he stepped away from the carrot and trotted to meet me. The three faeries fell to ground, still holding onto the carrot. The governor approached them and whispered discreetly to them. The three nodded and flew up to the lantern where they sat and watched us. The governor flew over to me.

“Please alert me of your decision by morning,” said the governor. I nodded and waited for him fly back over the boulder. I turned back to Rudy.

“Oh, and miss?” the governor suddenly called out, appearing back from behind the rock.

“Yes?”

“I should warn you it’s almost midnight.” I felt woozy just hearing the word.

“Oh, okay, thank you.” The governor nodded and disappeared for good. I looked back at Rudy.

“After this, we need to talk.” Rudy nodded. If midnight wasn’t approaching, I’m sure would have found myself laughing. I wanted to have a serious conversation with a horse. I was, without a doubt, losing my mind.

Rudy and I stood there for a minute or two, waiting for the hour to arrive. I glanced up and noticed that the three faeries had already fallen asleep sitting on the lantern. I knew midnight had come when a cold breeze blew through my hair and ruffled Rudy’s mane. The magic made its usual course up through my bloodstream, stinging my skin and cramping my muscles. I wrapped my arms around Rudy’s neck and grimaced through the pain. His breathing grew heavier, and I could feel him struggling to bear the pain. Though it had gradually become easier over the last few days, it couldn’t be denied that it was still excruciating. When midnight had come before, I usually stood near Rudy as we endured the pain while Upright soldiered through himself. No major physical effects had befallen me since my skin paled, but such was not the case for Upright. His beard was now sprinkled with more strands of grey and white, and I was convinced he had shrunk at least a half an inch though Upright was sure I was lying. Now, here Rudy and I stood while Upright endured the midnight pains tied up to a tree nearby. He probably preferred that anyways.

The pain soon began to recede, and I began to relax once more. I noticed the lantern had been blown out by the wind. The faeries apparently had not noticed. “Rudy?” I whispered in the dark. I felt his face come under my hand.

“Yes?”

I froze. Rudy wasn’t actually supposed to respond.

“Rudy, are you…”

“No.” The voice was quiet, no louder than a sleeping breath. It sounded tired and strained.

“I don’t understand,” I said.

“I’m still an animal,” he struggled to say.

“But how is that possible?” Rudy did not respond at first.

“Thoughts,” he murmured. I somehow understood. We were speaking to each other but not through words. Rudy began to leave my hand.

“Wait, come back!” I whispered. I heard Rudy breathe reluctantly through his nose as he stepped back to me. He nudged his head to my forehead this time, and his voice returned.

“Blyss...I’m tired,” I heard Rudy say weakly.

“I’m sorry, I’ll make this quick,” I promised him in my thoughts. “I just have two questions.”

“Promise?” he asked. I chuckled.

“Promise. First, how come I can hear your thoughts, but I don’t see any vision?”

“I think I can project either one, depending on what I choose,” Rudy muttered half asleep. I decided this made enough sense at the moment for me to continue on.

“And second, the governor of the faeries has promised his daughter to be our protector through the forest, but in return we have to promise she’ll get the Writer’s help too,” I rushed quickly.

“I don’t see...the issue,” he said.

“But, Rudy, what if the Writer doesn’t agree to help her? I don’t want to promise anything to the poor faery or her family.”

“Blyss,” he said gently, “can you ever promise anything in life?”

“Well, no, but-”

“Then take the risk. Warn them first though, so they’re aware of what they’re getting into.” I paused and sighed.

“Thank you, Rudy. I just wish you weren’t-”

“-a horse?”

“Would you stop interrupting me?” I laughed. A faint chuckle joined me.

“I wish was human too,” he said sadly. “I wish I...could give Upright a piece of my mind.” I snickered.

“Is thought projecting hard for you?” I asked. He sounded so frail.

“That was three.”

“Pardon?”

“Three questions. You broke your promise.”

“Oh,” I said, “oops. Well-”

“Yes, it’s very hard. Visions are so much...easier,” he answered wearily. “Except I can only show memories.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. I won’t make you do it all the time,” I assured him.

“Blyss?”

“Yes?”

“Can I sleep now?”

“Oh, right, yeah, of course,” I said embarrassed. I pulled away from Rudy’s forehead. I heard him lay the ground, and light snoring followed soon after. I let myself lay down, and I fell asleep on the soft earth.

I knew something was wrong when my neck felt unusually cold. Normally, my long, thick hair served as a wind barrier. I reached up to touch my neck and was startled that I felt no hair get in the way. I sat up and patted all over my head, seeing if I had any hair at all. I felt hair still on my scalp, and I followed it down to just above my shoulders where it suddenly stopped. Okay, you got a random haircut. No big deal, Blyss, I thought as Rudy stirred awake. He looked at me for a moment with an indecipherable expression in his big eyes.

“How bad is it?” Rudy stood up on his four legs and pushed his forehead towards me. After a moment of darkness, I saw one of his visions. It was me only a few moments ago, looking into Rudy’s eyes nervously. I realized what Rudy was doing. He was letting me see my hair for myself.

It was significantly shorter. The ends of my hair didn’t look like they had been cut. It was as if half my hair just shrunk back into my head. It had taken on loose curls overnight which bounced somewhat when I moved. However, it wasn’t this or the length that worried me most. It was the color that had me shaken. My hair had turned from a boring brown shade into a sleek raven black. Against my new skin tone, my hair looked like the Month of Midnights as a color. All around my head, at the tips of my hair, the black turned into a shade of poison apple red. It looked as though my pitch black hair had been dipped in a bowl of blood.

In distress, I pulled away from Rudy’s forehead. My magic was turning me more and more into the thing I was afraid of most. I quickly did the math and figured we had about three weeks left to replace the Sword of Truth, capture Dane, and bring them both before the Writer. At this rate, I’d be consumed fully by the magic before I’d ever get there in time. Rudy sensed my panic and quickly pressed his forehead back to mine. When the usual blackness came, I heard only his voice.

“Don’t worry, Blyss. We still have time. Now go get us our faery guide.” Same as last night, his voice sounded weary, evidence that the thought projecting was tiring him out already. I pulled away and nodded. I looked up in the tree branches and saw that the lantern was gone, and two guards hovered over us carefully.

“Excuse me?” I called out from below. “Where can I replace your governor? I need to speak with him.” One of the guards promptly flew away to fetch the faery I had requested. I played subtly with my new hair as we waited for him to return. I couldn’t deny that I liked it shorter and bouncier. If only it wasn’t the color of dark magic and death.

The guard returned with the governor bustling behind him. As the guard returned to his post, the governor fluttered to me, his wings beating twice as fast as before.

“Have you come to a decision, my dear?” he asked eagerly. I took a deep breath.

“We would love to have your daughter guide us,” I began. The governor began to speak, but I raised my hand and stopped him. “Sir, please listen to what I have to say. I must warn you that we are not going straight to the Writer. There are...things...very important things that must be done first. And if, no, when we replace the Writer, I cannot guarantee he will see her nor give her what she wants. That is up the Writer, and the Writer alone. Now, will you still allow your daughter to come?” The governor bit his lip and thought for moment, glancing indecisively at Rudy and me.

“I’ll go, Father!” a faery suddenly cried, emerging from behind the rock.

“Minnie! You were supposed to stay behind until I came for you! Why do you disobey me, child?” chided the governor. His daughter flew forward, wringing her hands nervously.

“Father,” Minnie said shakily, “we talked about this already. You mentioned there would be risks, and now here you are hesitating! I’m ready to go, and besides, this is what we both want.” The governor looked at his daughter stubbornly before addressing me again.

“Well, it seems Minnie has made up her mind, and you’ve made up yours. Are we in agreement?” asked the governor. I nodded. Minnie shrieked excitedly and flew to my side.

“Oh, miss, we’re going to be the best of friends! I can’t thank you enough for letting me come along!” Minnie squealed.

“No, thank you. We’re going to need you more than ever,” I replied. I turned to the governor and said, “Would it be possible to free Upright now?” The governor looked at me strangely.

“Oh, yes, yes, the dwarf with the big mouth. I’ll have him freed right away. Guards!” commanded the governor. The guards soon returned with their poison-tipped darts directed at Upright who walked along reluctantly. His face lit up when he saw Rudy and me, but it quickly changed when he saw my hair.

“What kind of princess are you supposed to be?” Upright snorted.

“Be quiet, dwarf!” the governor demanded. Upright glowered at the faery but wisely held his tongue.

“Thank you, sir, for all you’ve done for us,” I said for what I hoped would be the last time. The governor nodded properly.

“Good luck to you as well, um, I never got your name, miss,” the governor said.

“Blyss Bannon, sir,” I blushed uneasily. The governor smiled, clearly not knowing the significance of my name or my destiny like Queen Golde had.

“Well, safe travels, Ms. Bannon. Keep my daughter safe,” he said. I nodded shyly and signaled to Upright. Begrudgingly, he let me put him back on Rudy. Once I was up, Minnie glided up and sat between Rudy’s ears.

“Oh,” I said remembering, “could I have my basket back?”

“I’m afraid we’ve already taken that apart for building materials,” the governor confessed. I sighed. It wasn’t like there was much food left in it anyways.

“That’s alright,” I forced myself to say. I tapped Rudy twice, and he trotted past over stream and back into the thick of the woods.

“Off to the Writer we go!” Minnie exclaimed. I cringed.

“Did your father not tell you?” I asked. Minnie turned around and sat backwards.

“Tell me what?”

“We’re not going straight to the Writer,” I said.

“Why not?” she asked.

“Yeah, why not?” Upright interrupted. “Even I don’t know.”

“It’s complicated,” I evaded.

“So if we’re not going to the Writer first, then where are we going?” Minnie asked.

“The three Elder Faeries. They have something we need,” I said carefully choosing my words.

Upright groaned from behind me, “Except genius over here ruined the map, and now we have no idea where we’re going!”

“Oh, that’s not a problem! I know where they are!” Minnie interjected.

“You do?” Upright and I asked in unison.

“Of course! The three Elder Faeries are the best representation faeries have in this world! Faery governors visit them all the time for meetings and such. I’ve gone with my father once or twice before,” she explained.

“So you can take us there?” I asked quickly.

“Of course! That’s what I’m here for, right?” Minnie beamed. She led us to a beaten path in the forest and told Rudy, “Stay on this for two days, and we should replace their cottage.” Desperate to avoid anymore conversation with Upright, I struck up a mildly interesting talk with Minnie. As her father the governor had said before, Minnie was indeed a very large fairy. However, it didn’t make her look as off putting as the governor had made it seem. She was a jolly, good natured fairy with big brown hair teased up high on her head. She had rosy cheeks and the brightest smile. She reminded me of some of Mother’s friends, larger-than-life and always optimistic. She wore a pink rose petal dress that consistently matched the cheerful blush on her face. Unfortunately, I still had to keep Upright from snickering when he realized the fat faery’s name was Minnie. It was going to be a long trip if I was going to have to deal with a pessimistic dwarf, a strangely happy faery, and a horse whose form of communication was a bit restrictive.

To top it all off, I also had to fight the burning evil increasing inside of me. With each passing of midnight, my vile magic grew more potent and became harder to ignore. The temptations to do or even think things that were beyond wicked grew more persistent. If I let myself snap after hearing more of Upright’s complaints, it might end in violence. If I watched to much of Minnie’s peppy bouncing as we traveled along, I might smack her clean off Rudy’s head. Internally, two people were fighting. The old me was trying to keep my evil at bay, but I was growing weaker. I could feel myself giving into Maleficent and my predetermined destiny.

Night came, and a camp was set up. We circled around the fire silently. “Are you going to eat anything?” Minnie asked curiously, noticing Upright and me sitting absolutely still. I shrugged.

“The last of our food was taken away,” I said regretfully, “and no one feels like hunting in the dark.” Minnie laughed. Upright glanced at me, his face confused and offended.

“Do you replace starvation a funny thing?” he retorted angrily.

“No, no,” Minnie insisted. “It’s just that you’re with a faery! Faeries have special magic. Faeries can cast spells.”

“Can you cast a spell that’ll bring us food?” Upright asked bluntly. I’m sure that’s what we all were wondering.

“Of course, I can! I was surprised none of you asked before,” she said, continuing to smile.

“Then what are you waiting for? We’re starving!” Upright demanded. I looked at Minnie, but she was not upset by Upright’s crassness. She held her hands in front of her as she spoke.

“Before this night should conclude, let these people have some food!” Pink sparkles the same color as her dress shot forth from Minnie’s hands and fell before Upright, Rudy, and me. When the magic dissolved, large plates of all sorts a food appeared on my lap and Upright’s. A bale of hay materialized in front of Rudy which he already was munching on gratefully.

“Oh, thank you, Minnie!” I exclaimed.

“I’m always happy to help,” she assured me.

“Do you need food of your own?” I asked.

“I already have some, but thank you for thinking of me,” said Minnie pointing to a little plate of food resting on stone nearby. For a while we all ate in silence, our hunger overriding our social manners. Upright smacked his lips in satisfaction and set down his plate.

“Man, with little miss happy with us, this journey’s gonna breeze. Her spells will make this a vacation,” he said smugly as he pat his belly.

“Actually,” Minnie inserted, setting down her plate, “it won’t exactly work like that. Spells like these use a lot of magic. It takes several hours after I perform a spell for me to get my energy back.”

“Of course, it does. There’s always a catch. Typical for a pixie like you,” he grumbled. Minnie raised an eyebrow.

“Excuse me, just what do you mean by that?” she snapped. Her usual joyfulness was suddenly nowhere to be seen.

“You know exactly what I mean,” Upright taunted. Minnie flew closer.

“Faeries are not pixies. We are nothing like our unruly cousins who only cause mayhem and mischief,” she said with her nose in the air.

“Yeah, and why do you think pixies are in more Stories? Nobody wants a goody two shoes who needs time to ‘rest’ after each spell,” Upright jeered. Minnie turned a devilish red.

“Faery magic is far more powerful than a pixie’s, thank you very much. And I just gave you a full meal, and you don’t even thank me!” she accused.

“Minnie, we are very grateful for what you’ve done for us. We’d be lost and hungry without you!” I insisted. I was desperate to keep peace between the two.

“Oh, yeah?” challenged Upright. “I’m sure any pixie could make a plate of food. Prove to me you’re more powerful.”

“No, Upright!” I berated.

“I dare you,” he said slyly. Minnie balled her fists and flew near the outer flames of the campfire.

“Minnie, don’t listen to him,” I begged. The faery raised her hands in front of the fire.

“To teach a lesson I will require, a giant monster born of fire!” Minnie’s magic burst into the campfire. The flames grew larger and larger, creeping up into the night sky and threatening to set the tree branches ablaze. The flames began to curve and twist, taking on a new shape. Upright backed up, his mouth gaping open, and Minnie flew quickly for cover, afraid of what her own magic had done. I stayed in my place, however, dumbly watching as the fire took shape as a dragon. I felt pulled into it somehow, as if a magnet in my magic was being drawn to it. The dragon’s face stretched forth from the fire and came inches away from mine. The heat of its face began to sting my skin, but I could not move away. I looked into its burning yellow eyes with more intrigue than terror.

“I found you, Blyss,” the dragon murmured. I tried to move, but the invisible magnet held me in my place. “See you soon,” it whispered. The dragon retreated back to the fire and enlarged its entire body. As the fire dragon sucked in a large breath, Rudy suddenly barged in to me, pushing me away and breaking the magnetic force. As he did so, the dragon exploded into a ball of flames. The fire receded, leaving us all in total darkness.

“You’re stupid,” I heard Rudy’s voice say.

“It was keeping me there,” I argued. Rudy snorted.

“You’re still stupid.”

I groaned and pushed Rudy away from my forehead, breaking his thought projection on me. “Is everyone okay?” I called out in the darkness.

“Yes!” Minnie’s sweet little voice answered.

“I think my arse got singed, but yeah, I’m fine,” Upright grunted somewhere.

“Minnie, do you have enough energy to maybe make some light?” I asked hopefully.

“I’m afraid not, Blyss. I’m sorry I was so foolish. That’s never happened before, I swear!” Minnie said with a quaking voice.

“No, no, Minnie, it’s not your fault. Upright should be the one apologizing. He’s the one who provoked you,” I said sorely. There was only silence. “Upright?” I heard him sigh.

“Sorry, Minnie,” he grumbled.

“It’s alright,” she answered.

“Minnie?” I asked. “Was the dragon supposed to talk?”

“No!” she cried. “I’ve never seen that happen before in my life. Only something like that could occur if someone else intercepted my magic.”

“Meaning?” Upright asked. Minnie did not reply.

“Minnie?” I asked with growing concern.

“It means someone knew where we were and communicated through my magic, and it seems they wanted to speak to you directly, Blyss.”