I caught a glimpse of a fairy once, and now she had appeared before me. So tiny, oh, so fragile. Her light was blue, like, neon blue. I tried to catch her with my hand multiple times, but to no avail. She flew fast, yet so elegantly. Leaving trails of blue, she created a small sanctuary of light in the middle of the darkness. Her wings made no noise, and everything was mute, until she sang me a beautiful song that only I could hear. It was the song of the night, a song that tells a story of a king who was so corrupted he could barely prevent himself from destroying the whole kingdom. The melody of the song was a stream of scattered feathers, emotionally attached to the ruins the king had left behind. She sang note by note in a really beautiful yet heart-breaking voice.
For the curious ones, here’s the story.
The kingdom was a very peaceful place. Children were free to roam every corner and alleyway without fear of thieves, every family had their own house and a big farming field, festivals were held three times a year, and crime was a rare thing. It was the time of happiness, and also of progress. Discoveries and inventions were made, the minds of many creatures were developing, and changes were shown little by little. All was under the rule of the great king.
The blue fairy thought the king was someone so strong, so wise, so brave and selfless that no other creature had not even a single power to stand equally next to him. She believed the king was the one who would bring this world for the better. She trusted him, loved him so very much. But she was wrong. The king was only a weak clown who wore a very thick mask. He couldn’t see beyond his own pleasures. Soon she saw his true nature. Without anyone seeing, the king turned into someone else. This stranger who resided in the king’s body bathed in people’s praises, and he swallowed wine like he was living in heaven. And once a very beautiful, yet poisonous butterfly caught him without his mask, he became completely out of control.
And here I’m telling you, that this wasn’t a story of good that defeats evil, that this wasn’t your classic happy ending fairy tale. This was the real deal. This was a story of bloodshed, betrayal, and misery. And this blue fairy had seen them all, felt them all.
Oh how shocked the blue fairy was, when she realized who the evil butterfly was. She was her sister, her very own identical twin. Her wings were the same blue, her light was almost the same blue. She was her messed up counterpart.
And then here comes the love and secret affair part. The king fell in love with the evil fairy, betrayed the good fairy, but the evil fairy had another intention she had in mind, and then she used the king to her own advantage, the good fairy tried to stop her sister, bla bla bla… you know this part often ends up in the loss of the good character’s power and the victory of the evil enemy. But you also know this part never gets to be the ending of a story.
The blue fairy then gathered all the creatures in the whole kingdom, talked them through the whole thing, and lead them to rescue the king. She also got help from the king’s son. Then they all travelled far from their home, fought their way through a burning hot desert, the woods covered in thick fog, and battled big storms in the middle of the ocean.
Weeks later, they arrived in the peak of a mountain, where giants guarded the gate leading into the evil fairy’s nest. Of course, they fought the giants. They had come all the way not to surrender or walk their feet home without at least knowing the king was alive. The giants were strong, they killed many. But the ones who survived the giants’ punches continued their way.
When the huge doors were opened, the king was standing right there, behind the door, holding a sword. He said he was waiting for them. The evil fairy appeared next to him, out of thin air. She sent everyone to sleep, except the good fairy. She wanted her to watch, to witness the death of the people she cared about. And she did. She was powerless, weak, and scared. The king’s sword was the weapon of mass murder, creating crimson flood.
Dead bodies everywhere. Now that her plan was accomplished, the evil fairy stole the king’s soul and made his body into an accessory. His soul was tossed into another realm, forever trapped in nothingness, without the touch of time. He was neither dead nor alive.
But the good fairy refused to let him go. She would never give up on him, no matter how cruel and heartless of a person he had become. And so her search for the king went on. Hundreds of years had passed, and in this garden she met me.
The song still continued. My mind was drifting through images foreign to my memories. They were the blue fairy’s memories. They were painful, very painful. She had stepped through ages, seen enough destruction and sadness, been through many things a thousand times. But she was still fuelled by her love for the king, still not letting herself to want to let the feeling fly away. She was still searching, peeking through doors and windows, always in the hope of finding a clue. It was her mission from the moment they were separated, and it still was, and will always be.
While the whole world changed countless times, she stayed the same. Her light was still as bright as the way it was, and so was her heart. She greeted the sun every morning, a way she was taught by her mother to wake her hopes up each day, and she still did it. She sang her story to innocent kids who stayed up later in a beautiful garden. She wanted someone to know, and kids are the only ones who could see and hear her. Adults had lost this capability. I was one of them, one of the kids who encountered her.
Fifteen years later, I still remembered the song. I remembered her voice, her neon blue light, and the trails it made. But when I got to the garden, the only creature I saw was a blue butterfly, alive but didn’t emit any light. This thing flew all over my head, but it didn’t sing, didn’t even let its voice be heard. It was just… a butterfly. Maybe the song was a song I’ve heard from somewhere. Maybe the blue fairy was only my childhood fantasy.
But then again, I changed. I grew up, was dragged along by the flow of time.
But this blue fairy, she didn’t change. She stayed the same. She managed to hold on to her strongest feeling, her eternal love, thus breaking the law of nature. She would fight anything to touch the king one more time, even the time itself.
Like, literally, she was timeless.