The Golden Winged Horse

Chapter 2

A small cell phone sized golden horse looked back at me, complete with a pair of beautiful golden feathered wings. I would have marvelled at such a stunning ornament if it hadn't been for the fact that it moved. It paced around and around in circles, tossing its tiny head and swishing its golden tail, clearly annoyed.

The glass dome trapping it in place started clattering against the base, making me realise my hands were shaking. Realising I needed to get off this chair and stand or sit on something more stable, I started slowly bending my knees in readiness to step off the chair.

"Careful," said a voice. "You don't want to drop this, trust me."

I froze. I knew no one had come in the house but I still looked around me anyway. Of course, no human face met my widened eyes. Where had the voice come from?

"Hello?" said the voice.

I dared to look at the moving horse inside the glass case.

"Yes, it's me talking," it said.

I shrieked. The glass case rattled even louder against its base.

"If this glass dome falls off, I'll return to my true size. You don't want that in here."

I whimpered. "What...what the...what is happening?" I whispered.

A low chuckle sounded around me. This was overload right here. A bit too much to take in.

"You are holding a magical glass dome complete with a magical golden winged horse trapped inside it."

My head started spinning. How could this be? I managed to get down from the chair without falling over. I sat back on it and lifted the glass dome to my eye level. The little horse stomped its feet, making the dome vibrate in my hands.

"I'm Tristan," he said. "This may seem a little strange to you, but your father has kidnapped me to hold me to ransom against my people."

I giggled. Nerves and bewilderment tumbled around inside me like a blender on high speed. "Your people?"

"Yes," he said. "The fairies. I'm from a world very few humans know about. Your family, however, you know the truth, you know about us."

As I stared at the speaking mini horse, my mind wandered off into my memories, remembering stories my gran and my dad used to tell me as a child. Wonderful, fantastical stories about fairies, magic, and...

"A golden winged horse," I breathed. "But they were just stories. Bedtime stories for a young girl to get lost in for happy dreams."

"Every story has its origins. Clearly you can see I am more than just a story."

"The fairies...they're real? And magic? And the magic dust that sends all the children to sleep?"

"That's my job," Tristan replied. "I fly around the world at night, each flap of my wings creates a shower of magic dust that allows children to sleep. Without me, the pixies will run rife, disturbing their slumber with frightening images and terrifying nightmares."

"Pixies?"

He nodded, his long golden mane swishing back and forth like something from a shampoo advert. "Horrible little critters. The true evil of the world. If something bad happens, you can bet your last breath on the fact those horrid things had something to do with it."

"And your magic dust stops them?"

"It keeps them away from children. Children are the light and life of our world, we thrive on seeing them happy, hearing their adorable laughs, helping them enjoy bedtime and sleep."