Glen

Prologue: A Chapter of Telling With Nothing to Show for it

Fairies are born with their names.

They wake up, fresh eyes blinking into the infinite, dazzling sun, with a set of pre-established knowledge. Things they already know. Feelings and emotions coursing through their hearts. With thought enough to unfurl their wings and set about the job for which they were born without a moment to waste.

Instinct takes over, and the fairy carries out their job with the utmost of precision -- divine function executed in accordance with the intricate clockwork of the world.

She woke up with one thought.

I'm hungry.

This was closely followed by another thought.

Wait, do we eat?

She tore herself out from her cocoon, slipping out of rancid guts and skin, to stand, naked as the day she was born (which was that day, really) to look at the devastation around her.

She knew that the town that was currently on fire was named Piglet's Bend. She knew that it was a quaint little village along the Grand Trunk Road that led to the great city in the distance. She knew that the village's primary exports were tiny little sausages and flower wine, which kept the citizens of the local municipality fed and drunk and floral.

She also knew why there were fish everywhere.

"Oh!" She exclaimed, excitedly. "This is all my fault, isn't it?"

Not quite, answered the universe, filling her mind with knowledge.

"Then?"

It's more like the other way around, really.

"I'm the fault of all this, then." Ninia nodded in wide fascination at herself. "And me. My name is..."

Ninia.

"And I'm a fairy, aren't I?"

Yes.

"And what do I do, exactly, now that I'm born?"

Could start with the fish.

Ninia looked around. Ah yes. The fish. From out of the sky, pelting down on the unfortunate villagers who happened to be outdoors without their umbrellas, was a shower of trout; a sprinkling of sprat; a hail of halibut; and a drench of dory.

Fish of all types, and some that barely classified, fell from the sky, as if materializing from within the clouds. They bounced off awnings and littered the streets with glittering scales and an upsetting odour. It was all rather peculiar.

Ninia looked back. She pursed her lips into a perturbed wryness. Indeed, she had just crawled out of a rather fresh monkfish. That confirmed it. This was hers.

She raised her arms to the skies, intuitively, as her mind blanked and her eyes grew as cloudy as the air above. A silent whisper escaped her lips, in words that no one knew, as the energies started to coalesce.

It was something unseen, but felt. It was as if the souls of all the fish who died there swirled around and were drawn in, by a force of nature, into the pit of Ninia's chest. Like birds returning to the nest, they flocked in and brought forth a warmth to the pit of her heart.

And slowly, the deluge dried. It slowed, fin by fin, to the last remaining minnow that thwacked the ground with no more ceremony than a gnome losing a height competition.

Ninia lowered her hands as the clouds faded, both in and over head.

She stood there for a while, that same look of confusion and guilt gently tapping at the back of her mind. Around her, from out of doors and windows peeked the fine sausage-and-wine farmers of Piglet's Bend. Nervous and slightly queasy, they made their way back into the streets, squishing their way to the central road.

A buzz arose as eyes started to fall on the tiny fairy standing there waist-deep in piscine petrichor.

"Oi! You there!" called out a farmer. Half-shaven and dressed in thick overalls, he peered from behind a sunflower-yellow hat. In his right hand was a small pitchfork which he pointed menacingly at the fairy. This was MacGustus MacGee, the unofficial head of the twenty-strong commune and a fellow of particular shrewdness.

"M-me?" Ninia yelled back. It was barely a squeak to the humans, but they all heard her clearly.

"You in charge o' this?" the farmer charged.

"I suppose I am," Ninia replied, as honest as she could.

"Oh!"

"Yes."

"Well then!"

A spot of awkwardness rippled through the crowd. The farmer lowered his tool.

"So, you prevent this from happenin' again, wot?" the farmer asked, motioning to the fish.

"Ah... yes. That seems to be my very purpose of existing," Ninia said, scratching her head. She hadn't known this a mere moment ago. But she did now. "I'm sorry for all the trouble."

The farmer frowned and grunted, a combination which stood for thoughts being made. Whispers were passed around like a keg in the pub in winter, before the farmer turned his attention back to Ninia.

"Right, so. Yer our first fairy, eh? So, let me get this straight. So's long as you are here, we'll not get this rain of fish not no more, yer?"

"Yer. I mean... yes."

"So wot happens if'n you don't do yer job?"

Ninia thought about it and the answer arrived. "Well... I do imagine that this will happen... quite often. You see, some crosswinds over by the ocean creates a typhoon wh--"

"Alright, that all don't matter," the farmer cut her off gruffly. "Wot matters is, if you don't do yer job, this will continue."

"Yes."

The farmer nodded, stroking his chin with his pitchfork.

"Right then," he said suddenly. "Sling yer hook."

"Excuse... me?" Ninia tilted her head, her eyebrows slanting back. "I... I don't underst--"

"We will not be requiring yer services no more. So wiff all due respect, fairy, you're free to bugger anywhere you'd like ta." The farmer pointed his pitchfork down the road. At the far end, winding over rolling hills and fresh farmland, were the dense forests beyond.

"But... but where would I go?" Ninia muttered. "I'm supposed to stay here."

"We're granting you yer freedom, fairy. It's a rare opportunity, aye? I'd suggest you take it."

"Well, uh... okay, I suppose." Ninia looked down past her flappy blue hair that stuck out like seaweed and glowed with the colour of the sea. "Thank you. I suppose I'll be taking my leave now."

No one heard her any longer. There was no more reason to. The rest of the villagefolk had already gathered around, talking, discussing. Ninia was free. Was this common? She didn't know.

"So, what do I do now?" she asked the universe.

And for once, the universe was silent.

~~~