The Rainbow Pearls: Part One

darkest corners of one’s heart.

*****

Our story starts in the darker parts of Faerieland…

“Kirra!” yelled Maelstra.

“Coming Maelstra, your ladyship,” called Kirra, addressing her elder with the respect that had been drilled into her head since, well, ever.

She finished combing her long, deep purple hair with her personal Maelstra Brush and ran down to the kitchen to the irritated uber faerie, midnight black dress swishing behind her.

“Well, get on then! You were due at Jhudora’s Quest about five minutes ago”, said Maelstra, as she pushed Kirra and a shadow eyrie out the door.

“Why do I have to be the daughter of Maelstra?” complained Kirra to the eyrie, Jovan, as she led the way down the road out of the dark corner of Faerieland. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” answered Jovan, sarcastically, “maybe its because you were created for her. Well maybe not literally, but you are the ‘Blessed Chosen One’ to follow in her footsteps.”

She sighed; hating those particular words with a passion and continued on the path further toward Jhudora’s Quest. “I wish I could get out it.”

Meanwhile down in the deep, Chailyn the water faerie quietly crept back into her room so not to disturb her four primellas, Sammi, Verdi, Trory, and Misae. She put her grooming utensils back in her closet and looked at her small desk clock.

“Look at the time! I’ve got to go or I’ll miss breakfast!” said Chailyn, and she rushed off to the house kitchen.

“Good morning, Chai,” said Nereid to her rushed young student.

“Morning, Nereid,” Chailyn greeted back and seated herself with the ten other students at the breakfast table. After issuing the morning announcements and assignments, Nereid concluded with, “Finish your breakfast, do your chores, and then you may all go exploring. Understood?” said Nereid, as she turned to the door.

“Understood,” all the young water faeries chorused.

“I’m off to the Healing Springs. Have a good day,” said Nereid, before swimming out the door with a flick of her tail.

“Finally!” Chailyn sighed to herself. “She’s gone.”

Chailyn swam up to her room and looked in the mirror with her sparkling sapphire eyes. She picked up her hairbrush and started to comb and braid her long golden hair.

“Chailyn, we’re hungry!” whined Trory, the red primella, who usually would speak for the four of them. He sat on her vanity and looked up at he with very pathetic begging eyes.

“Okay, you whiny beasts,” said Chailyn with a giggle. She led her pets, which were throwing dirty looks at her happy chuckles, down to the kitchen to have a quick breakfast.

In the forests of Meridell, a youth stood at the base of a tree, with her hands on her hips and wings erect in annoyance.

“Illusen! ILLUSEN! What are you doing up there?” yelled Quenelle the earth faerie, to Illusen, who was perched on top of an old gnarled tree observing the pale morning. “What are you doing in that tree?”

“What?” Illusen whispered under her breath. Sprung from her daze she looked down and smiled. “Oh. It’s Quenelle.” Illusen remembered the day, so many years ago, when she was summoned to the faerie palace, and Fyora handed her a little toddler named Quenelle and told her she was now the little one’s guardian. Quenelle was now 14 and had grown up quite beautifully. From Quenelle’s streaked dark brown hair and shining green eyes to the dainty boots on her feet, this faerie was to be feared by her temper.

“Illusen! Get down here!” Quenelle yelled. Illusen jumped down in one great leap, landing without a sound on the soft dirt and debris.

“What’s your problem today, Quenelle?” asked Illusen.

“More like your problem. Neopets are lined up in front of the glade to way beyond my sights,” replied Quenelle, as Illusen’s eyes grew big. Then gesturing at her green ixi, Shalin. “And I can’t find Shalin’s brush.”

“I’ve got to get going,” Illusen sighed in personal surprise that she’d actually forget to open her shop. Suddenly, she turned back. “Look under that mess you call your bed for Shalin’s brush.” She added, before flying off.

“Okay, okay. Just a little more concentration,” said Fuhnah to the young fire faerie, Esne, who had come seeking her guidance. Then out of nowhere, the little pile of sticks in front of Esne became ablaze. “Yes! You’ve got it!” Fuhnah gave Esne a huge hug.

“Good work, sweets. Look, I’ve got to go do my shift at the Gormball center,” she said, turning to her daughter before leaving. “Keep practicing and please, if you would be handy and make dinner for me, please.”

“Fine, Fuhnah,” said Esne, watching her mentor leave and fly out of sight. Esne got up from her cross-legged position and walked to her room.

Her fiery pet lupe, Faris, bounded up to her, “So, did you do it finally? Did you set the twigs on fire?” asked Faris in his wise deep voice.

“Yeah, I did,” answered Esne, trying to sound bored but could not hide her joy. She walked over to the vanity table, and looked in the mirror to see a green-eyed redhead looking right back at her. Esne flopped on her bed, covering her face with her arms. She disliked being just another fire faerie, Esne wanted to be famous, something more, than just a little light in a bottle that can bestow gifts to neopets.

“Umm… something wrong?” asked Faris, confused.

“Oh nothing,” she said, as she got up and walked to the kitchen. “Well, Fuhnah said I had to make dinner for myself. So, I might as well make a soup. What kind?” Esne asked her fiery lupe.

“Lamb broth all the way!” answered Faris hungrily.

Within a second, Esne had a pile of sticks in the little stone hearth under the shiny black soup pot. With a little concentration wince, Esne snapped her fingers and a tiny flame flickered on her thumb, but when she blew at it, the flame flew toward the hearth and started a roaring fire. After wiping her hands on the sides of her pants, Esne walked over to the kitchen counter and started to cut some carrots.

In a little cottage near the Faerie Palace, “Lucrece!” said Trevet, to the light faerie’s back. “Lucrece, my reading light went out again. Don’t you think you’re not putting in enough juice into it when you light it?”

“Give me a minute to consider it,” said Lucrece, turning back to her faerie kau with a bottle of shampoo. “Trevet please stop moving. I’m trying to give you a bath.”

“Well then hurry up, or I’ll have to tell your mother,” he said with sarcasm. In a flash his look snapped to apologetic. “I’m sorry, Lucrece.”

“That’s okay, you forgot,” replied Lucrece, sounding a little saddened. Like a movie, Lucrece’s life began playing before her mind’s eye.

The story is that Lucrece’s mother was the uber-light faerie. When she was just a toddler, Lucrece was given to some other faeries of the royal court. She was brought up in the royal court, practically treated like royalty, and when they, her keepers, thought she could handle herself at fourteen, she was sent to live in a cottage near the royal palace. Lucrece can’t remember anything about her mother, and that was like a hole in her not knowing who she really is, who her family is. As a result, the topic was not brought up.

As Lucrece reviewed her life story once again, the doorbell rang. She got up and answered the door, still holding the container of shampoo. It was the mailman, Mr. Koki, an older quiggle with wrinkles about his eyes and mouth from his constant smiling.

“Morning, Mr. Koki,” greeted Lucrece, feeling better already. “Much mail today?”

“Yes, here you go,” he answered, handing her a stack of white envelopes and walking back to his mail cart.

“Bye and thanks agai-,”started Lucrece, then yelped and jumped a foot back into the house because of a well-dressed winged nimmo who appeared in a Poof on her doorstep.

“By order of her majesty, Queen Fyora of Neopia, you are to except this invitation,” said the nimmo, handing a creamy envelope with gold décor swirling on the edges to her, and then disappeared just as abruptly as he arrived.

Trevet trotted over and peered over Lucrece’s shoulder, reading the silver printing on the invitation. It read:

You’re Invited to the Celebration of

The Royal Princess Rina’s Fifteenth Birthday

Seven O’clock

Bringing A Present is Optional

Dress: Formal

Trevet was saying, “cool”, and “way to go”; to Lucrece before he realized that she had gone silent and frozen in place.

“Lucrece, are you alright? Lucrece? Hello? Is anybody home?” he was saying, making sure she was still sane and conscious.

And as every faerie opened their invitation, Nereid, Illusen, and Fuhnah had a similar reaction. Though, Maelstra was just muttering under her breath about how the princess was just a spoiled brat.

To be continued...