Episode One: Rose and the Needy Human

I still hate the fairies.

 

Considering I’ve now become one, you’d think that would change. Nope. I can’t stand them. They’re so full of themselves! Besides Hunter, maybe two of them are somewhat pleasant. But I have no interest in making friends.

 

“We’re going to talk about Needy Humans today,” the Sovereign says with her patronizing smile. “Now, what do I mean by Needy Humans?”

 

I hold in a loud sigh. The Sovereign is obsessed with rhetorical questions. I think the expression ‘needy human’ is pretty self-explanatory, don’t you? This is so condescending! Every one of us here knows exactly what that means.

 

“I mean a human being whose needs are temporarily greater than others of their kind,” the Sovereign says. “A human who suddenly finds themself in a situation of great danger, great illness, or great tragedy.”

 

Yes, I think we got that. For pity’s sake, that’s why all of us are here, sitting in this pretty little grove. All of us were once Needy Humans of the grimmest kind - on the brink of death. Becoming a fairy was the only way to save our lives. Fairies are not born, they are made, and if Hunter hadn’t changed me, I would now be six feet under, every bone of my body still shattered by the fall.

 

At moments like this, though, that seems a kinder fate.

 

No – I’m not ungrateful. I know I’m lucky to be alive. I have my health, my power, and the youthful beauty of a sixteen-year-old, though I was twenty-one when I fell. I have Hunter, who I love dearly. And this gorgeous realm – the Star Realm. More on that later.

 

“As First Order fairies, you are not yet authorized to determine which humans qualify as needy,” the Sovereign says. “You are only authorized to help those whom the Higher Orders have deemed worthy. Now that most of you have achieved sufficient proficiency with your magic, you are ready to be tested on a low-level Needy Human. Now, what do I mean by low-level?”

 

I close my eyes. Obviously that means a human who is not on the brink of death, but still has some kind of need great enough to warrant fairy intervention. Why does she speak to us as if we were children? And why am I the only fairy who finds it intolerable?

 

I let my eyes drift away from the Sovereign. There are nineteen of us sitting on the grass in a clearing that’s almost too perfectly round. We are hemmed by weeping willow trees and their wistfully drooping leaves, and clusters of purple hyacinths. The flowers never die here in the Star Realm. We live in a perpetual springtime of loveliness.

 

The other fairies sit with their legs artfully tucked under them, wings closed like a resting butterfly, eyes clapped on the Sovereign. If you’ve ever seen how a dog watches a scrap of meat you hold above his reach, that is how they all look. She is their idol. She is their goal.

 

You’ll never find an ugly fairy. But even by our elevated standards, the Sovereign is striking. She simply embodies etherealness, with her long, sinewy body, her statuesque features that somehow mix youthful innocence with mature wisdom, and her knee-length hair, wispy and white. She favors silver dresses and jewelry, and generally looks like a living icicle.

 

All a façade, of course. She’s a petty, spiteful bat.

 

The Sovereign explains what a low-level Needy Human is, using almost my exact words, then says, “Does anyone have any questions thus far?”

 

A fairy sitting a few feet away from me raises her hand. “Does this mean we’ll have Godmother status?” She has short black hair in a pixie cut, and amber-tinted wings.

 

“Not yet, Eloise,” the Sovereign says with an overly-parental smile. She begins to walk around the edge of our circle, which she likes to do when she’s explaining things. “This will be the first test to see if you qualify for Godmother status. Only Third Order fairies can be Fairy Godmothers, and remember, you are only First Order. And I think I hardly need remind you that not every fairy makes it that far.”

 

“Yes, but you did,” I mutter under my breath. The Sovereign’s eyes land on me momentarily and narrow. I think she heard me.

 

Until recently, there were twenty of us. Twenty newly-made fairies, rescued from a human death to join this privileged life. We are told – right from the beginning – how blessed we are to be chosen, and how this gift can be taken away. We all took this very seriously.

 

Except Sophina.

 

She was – how do I put it nicely? – not very bright. Mouthed off to the Higher Orders. Skipped classes. Was reckless with her magic. Laughed at rules and regulations. She wanted freedom to use her fairy powers as she pleased, and usually for self-benefit. Then she made the fatal mistake of asking the Sovereign – out loud – how to join those other fairies we’ve heard about… the Dark Fairies.

 

We never saw Sophina after that. But we know what happened to her.

 

The Strickening.

 

The fairy is stripped of her wings. Her magic. Her energies. She is returned to her human form in the same state (or nearly) as when she left it. Which in Sophina’s case, meant the final stages of wracking tuberculosis. She must be dead by now.

 

The other fairies were shocked. Horrified. Not me. Sadly, I had seen a Strickening before because it happened to my own Fairy Godmother.

 

Rest easy, Nutty.

 

“So this is like… practice… for being a Fairy Godmother?” another fairy asks. The Sovereign continues her stroll around the clearing, making us swivel our heads like owls to watch her.

 

“More than practice. An assessment, to see how adept you are at understanding the human’s needs, and meeting them. It’s not a question of merely fulfilling their wishes. Oftentimes, they themselves do not know what is good for them.”

 

In which case, how did Nutty ever get approved? She never understood my needs, even though she raised me. And she made a total mess of Cinderella. I loved Nutty, but she was quite possibly the worst Fairy Godmother to ever be given wings. She was crazy!

 

Eloise speaks again, asking what sort of human we can expect for our first assignment. I’m curious about this too, actually. After a year spent learning how to control and channel our magic, I’m ready to begin real work. The Needy Human interests me. I want to get a good one.

 

“Usually, we start you with someone you know. A friend or family member, provided their need is great enough. It will give you more ease than a stranger, and less likelihood you’ll make a mistake out of nervousness,” the Sovereign says.

 

Almost involuntarily, my hand shoots up. “Are we allowed to pick which friend or family member it will be?”

 

The Sovereign, who has reached the front of the circle again, lets her eyes fall on me. She has long, sleepy eyes, and curling lashes, white as her hair.

 

“I beg your pardon?”

 

“If it’s friends or family members, I think you should let us pick.”

 

“And why is that, Beauty?”

 

“Rose. Because family relationships can be complicated. I have certain relatives I’m hoping to never see again. If the Needy Human is one of those, can we at least have the choice to say no?”

 

I catch Eloise watching me sharply and sense we’ve struck a chord there. She must have family issues too.

 

Worse than mine, though? Not likely.

 

The Sovereign is silent for a long time before replying in a much colder voice. “I do not recommend any of you ‘say no’ to me. Ever.”

 

Shuck it. Should have kept my mouth shut.

 

When class ends, I can tell Eloise wants to talk to me. She’s one of the nicer ones and hasn’t given me any reason to dislike her. I let her walk with me into the woods, heading under the weeping willows where our afternoon meals are spread.

 

“I think I’d rather have a stranger,” Eloise says quietly.

 

I snort. “Me too. Without question.” It’s not that I don’t want to help my family, but the lack of choice that bothers me. If I could choose, it would be my sister Rapunzel, who I call Zelly. She’s the only one I’m comfortable with. But whenever I check on her, she seems to be doing fine.

 

“Who’d be the worst, to have assigned to you?” Eloise asks. “For me, it’s my mother.”

 

“Interesting. That’s my answer too.” I don’t hate my mother Cinderella, not anymore. I just don’t want to know her. For all practical purposes, Nutty was my mother and we managed just fine. I wish no evil on Cindy, but I don’t need her.

 

And I guess I’m a little scared of her, too.

 

“What happened with your mother?” I ask Eloise to get my mind off it.

 

Eloise sighs. “Very cold. Very strict. Made me work hard, even as a small child, selling the clay pots she made from door to door. I was forced to work in the harshest weather, which made me very sick. That’s why I don’t want Ma as my Needy Human. I feel like she killed me.”

 

Well, my own mother didn’t do that – but my father did. He killed me. No worry of getting him as my Needy Human though, he is forever gone. Actually, a lot of us fairies were killed by someone in our human life. The injustice of murder calls to the fairies, prompting them to save someone who might otherwise have not deserved it.

 

I might be one of those.

 

Before this life, all I was known for was my beauty. And that was my name. Blessed with fairy-like features even before I became one, I turned heads in my human life everywhere I went. Neither too short, nor too tall, and distractingly curved. Haunting eyes of clearwater blue, and long waves of mahogany hair. But I wasn’t known for my kindness. Vain and selfish and cruel – I admit it. Especially to my sister Rapunzel. But I was trying to change. Maybe that’s why the Sovereign consented when Hunter asked to save my life.

 

That foolish girl – Beauty – is dead to me. I am Rose now.

 

We take our meals at long, rustic tables under the trees, each of us sitting on a stump of log. It’s so weird sometimes, having wings. Means we almost never use chairs with backs anymore – it’s too awkward. We eat a lot of greens and fruits, and meat sparingly. My new favorite food has become red currants.

 

“Why can’t we get a real Needy Human? Why does it have to be a family member?” whines a fairy named Lola. Clearly this part of the assignment isn’t popular.

 

“Family members can still be needy,” says a fairy called Pearl. “My cousin has been crippled since birth. Maybe I’ll get him.”

 

“Well, my family is fine. They’re in the Lake Realm,” says Riff, one of the two male fairies we have in our group. Males are seldom saved - another issue I have with the Sovereign. “I just drowned. By accident. They all miss me, but they’re getting by. We should be helping people in the Peak Realm, that’s where the real danger is.”

 

I prick up my ears at this. I know the Peak Realm – I went to school there. And I know a few people who live there, like my half-sister Snow White who moved there with her soon-to-be husband Hansel. And my mother’s stepsister Lunilla, who was banished there for life. Yes, banished – it happens. Cinderella banished her for trying to kill… well, pretty much everyone, including me. Especially me. She was training the Beast to hunt me down and shred me to pieces. I’m not even kidding.

 

But almost everyone in my family has either killed someone or tried. We’re kind of messed up that way.

 

“No progress on the Bird Witch?” I ask. I know about the Bird Witch because my half-sister Snow White went there to fight her. A strange and seemingly evil witch who is turning the people of the Peak Realm into birds. Really surprised Snowy hasn’t vanquished her by now, considering how powerful she is. Snowy has the most fearsome magic of anyone I know.

 

Riff shakes his head. “Anyone who goes near the palace disappears or turns to stone. And no one ever sees the witch. They think she leaves the palace in some other form, to lure her next victims.”

 

“Some other form?” Eloise is sitting next to me, eating some kind of thick nut bread, spread with honey. It smells good.

 

“Non-human form,” Riff says. “Maybe an animal.”

 

“Oh lovely! Another one.” Sorry, but I’ve had more than my share of human-turned-animal. “What kind?”

 

Riff shrugs. “Probably a bird. That would make the most sense. I’ve heard that everyone in that realm is living in fear. That’s who we should be helping.”

 

“I agree,” Eloise says.

 

And I’m silently grateful it’s some other realm that’s in trouble now, instead of the Forest Realm, my last home. Cinderella is reigning there as queen, and whenever I check, the land seems to be thriving. No more curses. No more killings. No more cold. It looks as normal as any kingdom can be. And Cindy seems happy enough. I call her Cindy – not Mother – because we’ve never been close. How could we? I grew up without her. I care about her in a detached sort of way, but I don’t want her as my Needy Human. We don’t need to become friends or anything. We’re fine this way.

 

I could help Snowy, who maybe feels uncertain about how to fight the Bird Witch. Or Zelly, who sometimes has trouble making friends. Or Melodie, Cinderella’s other stepsister, the most boring person I’ve ever known in my life. Or Hansel! Oh my cringing heart. I could see the Sovereign picking him out of spite, the only man ever who didn’t return my love. We’re good now, but that would still be weird. Please oh please, don’t let it be Hansel.

 

And don’t let it be Cinderella.