Serenity

02 Hair Colors & Coincidences

SERENITY

I laid on the stern branch of the oak tree, feet dangling over the edge while I picked at some green leaves. Guitar Boy was strumming his strings, stopping every five seconds to write stuff down on his hands.

Do humans not have parchment or books? Is writing on your skin normal here?

Back in the old days when punishments were extreme, they'd carve what crime you committed on your skin with a special blade. It would burn and permanently scar, so you'd have a constant reminder of what you did on you forever.

But that was decades ago, when fae were trying to figure out the works of civilization, and executions were still a popular thing.

"Ugh," Guitar Boy groaned as he set down his stick filled with ink. "I wish I had some paper."

"Well, your wish is my command," I chuckled.

I snuck my wand out of my sandal and gripped it firmly.

With a little flick of my wand, a few sheets of paper came blowing down the dirt road. Guitar Boy looked at the pieces of parchment with a funny look on his face, and grabbed at them.

"Well that's lucky," he muttered as he rubbed his forehead.

"Nope, that's magic," I said. "Luck is a lie that softies tell you about."

He continued to write what I believed to be lyrics, down on the beige parchment against his lap.

"Damn it, what rhyme's with rhyme?" He grunted.

Why would he want to rhyme something with the word rhyme?

"Need some help with that?" I asked.

I jumped down from the branch and felt a little wobbly on my feet. Using my wings to steady me, I took light steps right next to the rock that Guitar Boy was sitting on. My head craned to peer over at the words that were written.

I could spend the rest of the day, thinking of words that rhyme.

"That's easy," I mumbled.

I poked my wand near his head.

"Time," I whispered.

A small light twinkled at the end of my wand and shot to his head. Guitar Boy's body jerked as my spell sunk in.

His fingers gripped the ink stick and moved across the paper slowly.

But there wouldn't be enough time.

"Wow, I really am good at everything," I grinned cockily.

I began twirling around watching the bottom of my dress flow, until I got painfully dizzy. Soon after, I fell to the ground with a hard thud. The dirt floor was harder than I anticipated.

"Well, at least I stuck the landing," I groaned, my side feeling sore. "Sort of."

Guitar Boy chuckled and shook his head.

"Oh you think this is funny mister?" I fluttered back on my feet, placing my hands on my hips. "I'll show you funny."

I prodded the tip of my wand through his toasty brown hair. As I pushed through his locks, some of it turned yellowish whitish. I've seen that color before, probably on a paragon.

"No! I wanted to turn it periwinkle," I sulked. "At least I didn't get all of it."

Guitar Boy ran a hand through his now changed hair and scratched at it. The dots on his nose and cheeks rumpled with the rest of his face.