Fairy Graves

One

She glanced about the empty hallway before creeping towards the large doors, muffled moans and cries of pain escaping through the cracks.

Unnoticed, she slipped through the door. The drapes were pulled over the windows to block the light. The pained mutterings were louder inside, the small figure on the bed thrashing as it fought the Magik killing her.

"My Queen," Penelope whispered as she curtsied although the figure on the bed had lost consciousness. "What's wrong with her?!" She whirled around to face Stone, the Queen's personal assistant.

"The Wingless Death." He whispered with a shudder. "Her wings are slowly crumbling as the acidic Magik flows through them. Soon, little Penelope, we will need a new Queen. Unless someone is brave enough to ignore The Warning and venture for the cure." The frantic fairy hustled around as he straightened things about the room, unable to stand still for long as the panic consumed him. "We must... we must call a gathering." Stone pushed his acorn-frame glasses up his slim nose, eyes welling with tears.

"But who will go?" Penelope thought of all the Fairies living within their village. They had bakers of plenty, foragers, builders, the librarian fairies, and the Queen's personal guard. There would be no one to go, no one would dare venture to the wet lands in search of the cure. They all cared far too much about themselves and their petty, plain lives and ordinary jobs. They all loved their Queen dearly, but they loved themselves more.

"That is what we must find out, Penelope." Stone uttered as he gathered scrolls of plenty in his arms before dumping them on an empty table. Before his time as the Queen's assistant, he was the Fairy Village scribe. "We must call a gathering for two reasons, one, to warn the Village of the Wingless Death. And second, to find our hero. Now girl, get me the ink pot and a fresh quill."

Penelope dutifully did as she was told, watching as the quill danced across the parchment.

"Come along little Penelope, we must warn everyone." Stone said as he finished writing, starting hopefully at the parchment.

They both prayed it would be enough, that their hero would rise.