The Golden Quill: Part One
All she could hear was the rain beating on the windows. Her mind was oddly distant, given that she was writing a memoir of her past. It was as if her memories were writing the story, as though neither the pen in her hands nor the movements they made across the page had any relevance. And to a certain degree, it was her memories alone that wrote her tale. The golden quill in her hand quivered as she shook lightly.
The quill had always been hers. It had been there for her in the good times and the bad, but in the good times, she didn't need the quill. She paused to look at her diary. It was under her faerie notebook. She remembered the many times she had written in it, spilling out all of her true feelings. It was something about the quill. It gave her words when she was at a loss for them. When writing speeches, she used her special quill. When signing important documents, she used the quill. When writing down all of her precious memories, no air faerie pen would do. No ordinary quill would do, either. It had to be her golden quill.
Her hair flowed in front of her face, nearly blinding her to anything other than the presence of her hair. She wore a purple dress, her jewelry was purple, her eyes were purple, even her hair had a good deal of purple in it. Yet purple hadn't always been her signature color. A long time ago, she had been a different faerie. Her life had gotten better, but recounting her past, she didn't know how it could have been much worse.
She gave into her memories. She could smell the air, see the buildings, but worst of all, she could feel her emotional pain and instability as fresh as if it had been two seconds ago. Yet somehow, it had happened two seconds ago, but only in her mind.
"Worthless piece of sludge! Get out of here, you aren't welcome!"
The small girl with huge purple eyes looked up and cried. Her wings were bent and tattered. Her dress was full of numerous holes. Her purple eyes carried the weight of hard times.
A harsh voice snapped the young faerie's mind back to the present. "I told you to get out of here! Or don't you understand plain English?"
The faerie backed up shamefully and ran away, tears streaming down her soft face. The girl was an outcast; she didn't fit in with any other faerie. She didn't have green, yellow, red, blue, or clear blue eyes like any other faerie. Her eyes were a lovely purple, her favorite color. Her dress was like that of the other air faeries, but somehow she was different. It started with her purple eyes, but it affected her attitude. She always had to be the peacemaker, the friendly one, the one in control. But it didn't take long for her to lose control. It only took a single faerie. One who was named Leeana. She was the queen of all faeries. Unfortunately, she was part of the conspiracy.
It only took one faerie to ruin it all. One faerie to come into the chain of command. One faerie to corrupt it from the inside out. One faerie to cast out the entire future of Faerieland.
It had all happened not long ago. It started with her birth, and it didn't take long for it to extent far beyond that.
"Leeana, you cannot rule forever. You must choose a successor. Choose a faerie to take your place."
Leeana thought about Maricia's words. The dark faerie was right. She couldn't rule forever. She was the faerie queen, but even she could not be queen forever. Even if she was chosen to be by the other faeries, someone would have to take her place as queen. That was natural, it was the way that things went, it was the way that things had always gone. It was how she was chosen as queen. It was how they had always chosen the queen. All before her had been chosen by the ruling queen, with the exception of the first faerie queen, Flora the Eternal, as she was called by her loyal subjects.
When Neopia was in complete chaos, she stepped forward and brought peace. She demanded a truce amongst the faeries. Earth and air, water and fire, light and dark, the faeries all had to live together in peace. Before it had been chaos. Earth faeries claiming that they belonged on Neopia, air faeries demanding that they live in Faerieland. Water faeries insisting to live in Maraqua. Fire faeries refusing to leave Mystery Island. Light Faeries decreeing that the dark faeries be banished to the dark side of Kreludor.
Then there were the unique faeries. The ones that were just a little different. Ones like Flora, the Soup Faerie, the Space Faerie, the Fountain Faerie, the Negg Faerie, the Grey Faerie, the Battle Faerie, Taelia, and Jhuidah. There were also some faeries that were just set apart for who they were. Faeries like Illusen, Jhudora, Ember, Psellia, Siyana, and Nereid.
Flora was an odd faerie, but she accepted that. When she united the faeries, she knew that it had been her destiny. Had she been like everybody else, she would have had a biased view and she would have been ignored by some faeries and supported by others. Because she was unique, she was given credit and considered honest. She lived for a long time before she believed that she should appoint an heir. After that, all faerie queens were chosen in the same manor, but none were quite like Flora the Eternal. To all her followers, even if she was not eternal, her legacy was.
Leeana finally finished thinking about Flora and the legacy that she left. She instead focused on Maricia's words. It was time to find the next faerie queen. So she left the castle and went through the streets. She went to every home and saw every faerie of every age, but none of them were just right. Then she went into one air faerie's home. The home was that of Thyora. Thyora was there with her two-month old daughter, Fyora. When Leeana saw Thyora, she had this odd feeling. As if she had seen the faerie before. When she saw Fyora, she was sure. These were the direct descendants of Flora. If their names were not obvious, then their appearances were. They were natural air faeries, but their eyes were different. Flora was said to have pink eyes, not a crystal-blue like that of other air faeries. It was said that her daughter had dark blue eyes, that her granddaughter had green eyes, and it went through. None of her descendents were said to have crystal-blue eyes. Thyora's eyes were pink, like Flora's. Fyora's eyes were purple, unlike any shade of purple she had ever seen. It wasn't a dark-faerie purple, nor was it Flora-pink. It was a lovely shade of violet.
Leeana gulped when she spoke to Thyora. "You, you will be my successor. One of Flora's descendents will rule after me, I demand it. It must be you that takes my place."
Thyora stuttered, "B- bu- but, your majesty. I am growing old. Take my daughter, Fyora. She will be a better ruler than I would ever be. I know it, take her, I beg of you."
Leeana looked at her suspiciously. "You wish to be rid of your daughter so much?"
Thyora shook her head. "No, I love my daughter so much."
Leeana frowned. "But what of you? You no doubt want to live in the castle and watch over her. I assume that you want the life of a royal."
"Watch over her, yes, but live in the castle and act as royalty, no. I don't belong there. I love living here, but my daughter deserves more than what I want for her."
Leeana muttered, "Every daughter deserves more than what her mother wants for her. I would know."
She then stood tall like the queen that she was. "Fyora will be queen after me. This day, I take her to be taught in the ways of royalty. She will have her own private set of chambers in the castle. You, her mother, will have a room whenever you wish to visit your daughter. You will also be invited to all private functions in which your daughter shall be involved. Be it a ball or a speech. You shall always be invited and have a reserved seat."
Thyora nodded, knowing that she was giving up her daughter. "Very well. Your majesty, just never forget telling her that I love her."
Leeana looked perplexed. "Why don't you tell her?"
She looked at the floor sadly. "I don't think I'll have the chance."
Leeana frowned, but said nothing.
Before Leeana left with Fyora, Thyora cried next to her child and one of her tears landed precisely in the center of Fyora's forehead. Thyora kissed her daughter's forehead and handed over Fyora to Leeana.
When Fyora was only three years old, her mother vanished. Thyora was simply gone. Nobody knew where she went or why she took nothing with her. They only knew that she was there one day and completely gone the next. Thyora told Fyora all the time that she loved her, but she was too young to remember. Now it was too late.
Leeana never knew how the faerie had known that she would be gone, but she knew that Thyora would never leave her daughter unless she truly thought it best for her. But only time would tell what was best for Fyora.
To be continued...