Under The Surface

     "Delina!" grumped an echoing older voice, "Get down from t'ere!!"

     Caught by surprise, the youngster lost her footing and fell backwards.

     Panicking, she lurched forwards but missed the edge of the crates.

     Forgetting to flap her violet wings in shock, she instead closed her eyes.

     And prepared to land on the hard permafrost below.

     "Got yer," the Red Bori grumbled, nonchalantly holding the small Dark Faerie in his grey claws above his head. Opening her eyes, the magenta-haired youngster let out a sigh of relief before grinning impishly. You could always rely on Mister Donny to save the day. At least that was what her mother would always say when she needed a Faeriesitter at short notice. Putting Delina down in front of him, the repairer was not impressed by his charge's reckless antics within his workshop. Narrowing his brown eyes, he looked down his snout at her. "Are ya tryin' to give me a scare?" he queried, tightly crossing his arms in frustration above his furry brown top, "Whatcha doin' climbin' up there fore anyway!"

     Delina giggled, hugging her deep violet winter coat. "Questing!"

     "Fer what?"

     "A birthday present for you, silly!"

     Donny paused. Then readjusted his stripey light blue and white hat, its two tassels tickling his bearded chin. "When ye 'ad as many birthdays as I 'ave 'ad, youngun," he advised, "it's best not to 'ave any more." The small Dark Faerie blinked furiously in confusion. Which caused a small smile to appear on the Red Bori's face. "Thatta way," he explained, grabbing her by the pink mittened hand and walking her back over to his wooden work bench, "ya don't get any older!"

     With his charge back to giggling, as she so often was, the duo sat down on two small roughly-carved wooden stools in front of the shattered remains of what used to be an astrolabe. Its golden metal shards glistening in the bright candlelight used to illuminate the cluttered workspace. The repairer frowned. He needed to get the artefact working as soon as possible. He was running out of time. Oblivious to his deadline, Delina squinted at the shiny shrapnel. Before grinning at her many reflections. She thought whatever-it-was was better this way. "What happens," she mused, watching as he hammered the bent metal flat again with his miniature mallet, "if you can't fix it, Mister Donny?"

     "Well, I don't get paid fer a start," he joked, causing the youngster to frown. Realising the quip may have flown over her head, the Red Bori pivoted, "but don't ya worry, everything can be fixed... with 'nough time an' elbow grease!"

     The small Dark Faerie was still frowning.

     Brown snow-booted feet dangling from the stool, she stretched out her legs. Accidently kicking something below the work bench. "Careful!" Donny called out as she dove underneath the table and pulled out a small, opened topped wooden box of what appeared to be... smouldering rubble? Placing her find on her lap, she looked over to her Faeriesitter. Who seemed a might sheepish. "Not... everything can be fixed," he conceded, the red hue of his cheeks lost amongst his similarly shaded fur. Not that Delina would have ever noticed anyway. Her attention was now firmly fixed on the myriad of fine fragments that she had unearthed.

     Gently placing the pieces of the astrolabe down onto his work surface in a rough outline of where he thought they were supposed to go, the Red Bori noticed two things. The first being that he was missing at least one part of the shattered artefact that he would have to fabricate out of some scrap metal. The second that, in the flickering candlelight, they were ever so slightly moving towards him. Looking up, the repairer noticed the large wooden door that blocked the entrance to his workshop slowly creaking open. And letting in an awfully cold draft. Standing up, he rushed over to both usher the cloaked individual into the warmth and to make sure that the door was firmly shut once again.

     "Thank you, Donny," smiled Umbrielle, lowering her navy blue hood to reveal a pale lilac face framed by long dark lavender hair and adorned with a pair of bright indigo eyes, "as always." The elder Dark Faerie brushed a layer of frozen condensation from her violet wings and the velvety surface of her cloak using her violet gloved hands before calling out to her daughter. "Delina!" Who hadn't stopped quietly playing with her rescued rubble once during all of the hammering and occasional coughing fit. (Though in her defence, they seemed to be pretty normal for her Faeriesitter.) Turning back to her old friend, she remarked, "I hope she wasn't too much trouble."

     "Not at all," the repairer lied.

     Eyes darting upwards from her treasures, Delina sharply responded, "Mama!" Holding the wooden box tight to her deep violet winter coat, the youngster skipped over to the duo at the doorway before turning to the Red Bori and asking him a frightfully important question, "Mister Donny?"

     "Yes, youngun?"

     "C-Can I keep this treasure?"

     "Uh..." perplexed, he looked towards Umbrielle for guidance on the matter, "...I s'ppose." Then paused. "As long as it be alright with yer mother."

     The small Dark Faerie looked upwards with pleading eyes.

     Umbrielle smiled softly. "Of course." Before chuckling as her daughter fluttered ever so slightly into the air with delight. "Now, go get your things!" Watching Delina run off to try to find her long since discarded pink woollen hat and brass snow-goggles amongst the scattered boxes and crates, the elder Dark Faerie's smile slowly faded. Something that did not escape her counterpart's attention.

     "I did warn ya," Donny mumbled, not wanting his charge to overhear, "they be set on it."

     The sorceress shook her head in disbelief. "It's not right."

     "What did bein' right got to do with it?"

     She frowned. This wasn't the end. It couldn't be. "I could still-"

     "It's not yer fight, Umbrielle," he interrupted, catching her off guard, "ye done enough for us as it is."

     A sigh escaped from her lips. "Are you going to be..."

     "I've packed, 'aven't I?" he smirked somewhat ruefully, before gesturing at the mountain of wooden crates that cluttered the far end of his cavern. Unfinished projects. Unstarted projects. Spare parts. The odd item that his customers had rudely never bothered to collect when he had finished repairing them. They were all there. Sorted. Labelled. For when he needed them again. He wrinkled his snout. If he needed them again. Turning back to his old friend, he tried to comfort her. "As I was telling the youngun," the Red Bori mused, "not everything can be fixed. An' this is just one of those. No point in dwellin' on it." Before frowning. "Do you know whatcha gone tell the mite?"

     Umbrielle pulled her hood down, covering her eyes.

     "Not yet."

     -----

     Looking out through her bedroom window to the glowing magma pools beyond, Delina rested her pale lilac face on the bottom of the opening in the basalt as she watched the steaming orange liquid bubble away. Waiting for Umbrielle to be done with her magic. As patiently as she could. Her sorcery allowed the pair to travel to different lands through the use of magical portals but the youngster found the preparations required so... tedious. She sighed. It wasn't safe for Dark Faeries on the surface of Neopia anymore, at least that's what her mother had told her. Not since the fall of the city of Altador to the one simply referred to as the Betrayer. They had to stay safe. Stay hidden. For now, anyway.

     It was what had brought them to the meandering Caves of Moltara and their roughly-hewn cavernous abode. Though Delina preferred the small settlement further up the network of caves. With its many clever Neopets and their wonderful inventions! They reminded her of Mister Donny. Always tinkering away. Making the world a better place. One item at a time. Bored of the convection currents and the faint smell of rotten Neggs, the small Dark Faerie turned away from her window and scanned her small room under the fiery torch-light. A bed and wardrobe carved out of the natural basalt. Shelves lined with beginner spell-books that she rarely read. A stone box full of handmade toys.

     She smiled before scuttling over to the small granite desk that sat opposite her cushion-covered bed. Pulling out the open topped wooden box full of fragments from underneath the stone surface, she placed it down on top before rolling up the sleeves of her sepia dress. Now it was the youngster's turn to put some of what the Red Bori had taught her into practice.

     Down the stone hallway and in her chambers, Umbrielle rested her eyes.

     A faint whiff of burnt obsidian lingering in the air.

     She was tired. So very tired.

     Opening her indigo eyes, she was still plagued by her visions of the Bori entombed in ice. As the words of the Keeper of Time swirled continuously in her mind. The sorceress was no Valeane. But she could have done... something. Anything. And yet. She sighed. While she had a warm bed to look forward to, her friends had a far colder fate in store. For not even Fyora knew how long. Not that the Queen of the Faeries seemed particularly fussed. It was all - quietly literally - beneath her. At least that's how it felt.

     The elder Dark Faerie crossed her arms atop her long navy blue dress before fixing her focus on the Shadowgem Staff that sat on the granite work-surface in front of her. An artefact she had crafted herself based on designs from long ago, it was key to keeping her and her daughter safe. Though it was an utter pain to maintain. And somewhat finicky. She frowned. Before noticing a small item being pushed onto her desk. Sitting up straight in her carved wooden chair, she gently picked up the object with both of her hands before addressing the grinning youngster. "And what is this?" Umbrielle queried in a playful tone, already having a pretty good idea.

     "It's a Faerie!" squeaked Delina in delight, hoping her Mama would like her.

     "Well," the sorceress grinned as she inspected her daughter's latest creation, "isn't she precious!"

     The little Faerie had a cone-shaped body made from a wooden fragment, decorated in a blue lapis lazuli paint that shimmered under the bright torch-light. Her face, once a small wheel, now wore a happy expression and was topped with strands of light blue wool for hair. A pair of silvery wings made from a reshaped spring completed the ornament, the part that the small Dark Faerie had struggled with the most. But she was proud of what she had made. And hoped the recipient would love it as much as she did. "I made her for Mister Donny's birthday!" she excitedly explained, jumping up and down on the spot, "So he's not alone in his cave all the time!!"

     Umbrielle's face crumpled ever so slightly as she handed the gift back to her daughter.

     "I just need to wrap her up in some fabric and some ribbon and-"

     "We..." she interrupted the youngster, hesitantly, before her voice wavered further, "...won't be visiting Mister Donny for a while, my dear." The elder Dark Faerie knew she should have brought it up sooner but she just didn't have the heart. No matter how many times she had rehearsed what she was going to say in her head.

     "Why not?" Delina blinked furiously.

     Her mother gathered herself. "He's hibernating."

     "Hypernating?" she responded, the confusion now evident in her tone.

     "Hibernating..." Umbrielle gently corrected, despite her own lack of conviction. She frowned, furrowing her brow. Before picking up the small Dark Faerie and placing her on her lap, "... it means he's gone to sleep... and he won't be waking up for... a while."

     "How long is a while?" Her daughter's bottom lip quivered.

     The sorceress placed her hand on her shoulder. "I wish I knew, Delina."

     Holding her creation tight, tears welled up in the youngster's lavender eyes.

     To be chased away by a warm embrace.

     "But when he does wake up," her mother smiled, "I'm sure he will love her."

     The End