Powerful Magic: Bibbity-Bobbity-Book

The royal coroner removed the blanket, and the consultant nearly lost her breakfast. She’d seen plenty of bodies in her day but never like this. All around the mangled corpse were feathers. Handfuls of feathers; some of them bloodied, but most were white and gray. The disfigurement was fuel for nightmares, and then there was the smell. An unworldly odor permeated the air all around them.

Three soldiers stood nearby; one of the men lost his composure and ran to a wall, narrowly missing the body with his vomit. She took a handkerchief from her pocket to cover her nose and mouth as best she could. Despite the grisly remains lying before her, she moved in for a closer look. Her disgust was narrowly outweighed by her curiousity. The men around her seemed annoyed at her presence. When the soldiers were told there would be a consultant assigned to these murders, they hardly expected a woman of such advanced years.

“Need a light, Mum?” one of the men stepped forward, “the moon is faint tonight, and clouds are moving in. It's too dark to see anything.”

It was dark between the buildings, she thought. The neon lights from the street created a murky shadow in the alleyways: a well-timed murder and well-placed body.

"No thank you, Sergeant,” she said kindly, noting his rank, “I brought my own.”

As she kneeled down, her pale skin began to glow a soft blue light. At first, it started as a dim hue around her body. After only a moment, she was blooming with a radiating, sapphire light. The Sergeant squinted his eyes, bringing his hand up to shield his view. Through the brightness, he could begin to see the woman more clearly. Even though she glowed brightly, the lines and details of her form were crystal clear.

She was older than he expected and attractive in an elegant kind of way. Her hair was cloud white and cut short, which was appropriate for a woman her age, but it was parted to the right and slightly draped just over her right eye. Her coat and dress were shades of sapphire and cobalt with glossy pink lining, and her high-heeled boots were stone gray with black laces and buckles. Her face was plain and beautiful, with high cheekbones and a narrow chin. She had a grace about her, and she moved effortlessly through the darkness. Even though it was a tad disarming to see a glowing blue woman, there was a strange sense of peace that followed her.

The woman carefully inspected the scene, noting each detail, stopping periodically to contemplate her findings, and mentally cataloging each one before moving on to the next item. Her gaze stayed a moment to the sky above the alleyway, then she settled on the signs in the street powered by dozens of pixies fluttering through lamps shaped into neon words. Her eyes seemed to follow an invisible trail to the street's back towards the garbage stacked against the wall.

“Dern witches.” snarled the shortest soldier among them, “She’ll spook the horses, she will.”

“Quiet fool,” the Sergeant stepped closer, “That’s no witch; she’s one of the fair-folk.”

“The wha-folk?” the soldier said dimly. He had a thick neck, and his face was sort of flattened.

A taller man with a sharp chin slapped the back of his helmet. “She’s a fairy, ya dolt.”

“Godmother, young man.” The woman interrupted.

“I beg yer pardon, mum?"

“I’m a fairy godmother. The Fairy-Godmother to be exact, but you may call me Fée. Now help me here before I turn you into a toad.” She said with a dry grin.

The stoutly fellow gulped as he hastened towards the glowing woman.

"Don't be nervous young man. I'm only having fun with you.” She glided past him as her light dimmed, and he sighed in relief.

“Besides,” she said softly, “I much prefer mice and pumpkins. Now, be a dear and move this garbage bin, please. "

The soldier looked wide-eyed to his Sergeant at the other men, who could only shrug in equal confusion.

"Hurry now. We don't have all night," she quipped.

As two of the men moved the large bin, the Sergeant walked beside Fée.

“Forgive them, mum. We don’t get too many fairies ‘round these parts. Mostly grim stories about children in pots and talking animals.”

"Do you believe in fairies, Sergeant? I don't believe I got your name."

“Hans, Madam,” the old soldier bowed his head slightly and respectfully, “Oh yes, mum, I believe in all sorts of fantastical things. Had a run-in with the devil myself a few years ago. Got a pretty, young wife out of the arrangement, but I wouldn't recommend dealing with those sorts."

"Hmm, I'm familiar," said Fée.

“Here now!" the Sergeant bellowed, turning his attention to his men, “Can’t you move that thing!”

“It’s fixed tight, Sir, stuck in the muck.” sweating under their armor.

“How bothersome,” Fée rolled her eyes and reached into her flowing sleeve. With a swipe, she pulled a beautifully ornate, blue wand from her coat and flicked it towards the bin. “Up.” she said melodically.

The bin lifted up unexpectedly as the men and trash were jolted back.

She motioned the bin up and over the body and bird remnants. “What a waste of good magic.”

As the bin floated to the other side of the alleyway, something on the ground shimmered in the pixie light.

It was a mirror. White with gold inlays, flickering with an eerie, fading light.

The Sergeant’s heart quickened as they moved towards it. “Why this mirror belongs to the Beast!” He picked it up, revealing cracks in the glass. It sparked and crackled like a lit fuse.

"Unfortunately, sir, you are correct." taking the mirror for her own inspection.

“But this poor fella can’t be him.”

“On the contrary, my dear sergeant,” Fée gestured towards the ground ahead of the body, “This is the Beast, make no mistake about that. See the paw prints in the mud just over there and note how they smear and transition. He may have fought as a beast, but he died as a man.”

The old man clasped his chin in bewilderment. “Who would want to kill Beauty and the Beast?”

"Our Beauty may yet still be alive. There is no sign of her struggle or her blood. No. The princess was spirited away into the sky while her beloved was slain. This is powerful magic, Sergeant. Powerful indeed.”

“Somebody had to have seen the Princess whisked away into the sky.” gasped one of the men.

The alley grew darker as clouds closed around the moon, covering it completely.

Fée looked into the crackling mirror with sadness in her eyes. Her delicate hands glowed blue, and the cracks in the mirror began to seal slowly. "You'd be surprised, my boy; people don’t look up as often as they used to.”

Just then, another soldier burst around the corner into the ally way.

“Sergeant, Sir! There is an urgent message from the captain.”

“Let’s have it.” quipped the old guardsman.

The messenger pulled out an aged parchment with tarnished edges coiled around a wooden indulgence. He handed it to the Sergeant who unrolled it quickly, but the page was blank with no message to be found.

“Dash it all,” shaking the document, “there’s no signal in this blasted part of town.”

The Sergeant walked around in half circles until the scroll lit up on each end. "Ah, there we are."

Suddenly bright red words began to appear on the parchment one letter at a time:

“Urgent Message for Fée Marraine and company,=

Another attack reported, =

Victims believed to be the Princes, Philip, and Ferdinand, =

Snow White and Briar Rose stated missing, =

Report to the Fourth Kingdom at once!”

The stout soldier stepped back beside his taller partner. “Sno’ White an’ who?”

“Rose Red, ya dolt.”

“Aw, I liked that one.”

“Meh, I like one with the long hair.” he chortled as he ribbed his partner.

Fée glared at them until their chuckling gradually ceased. She stared intently at the men for what seemed like a lifetime until the moment became excruciating.

The taller man cleared his throat nervously. “Ahem* Sorry there, mum.”

She stowed the mirror away in her sleeve; her face softened. “That's quite alright, gentlemen, but I have another favor to ask of you.” She turned to the Sergeant, “Hans, get to the Fourth Kingdom as fast as you can. Let me know what you find. I'll hear you through the mirror.”

“The Fourth Kingdom? That's half a day's ride, Madam, and it looks like rain.”

Fée’s wand had reappeared in her hand as she twisted towards the soldiers.

“That’s where the favor comes in.” The men could see her smiling in the spectral light of the wand. She waved her hands fluidly like a conductor in front of her symphony.

"Better close your eyes, lads," the Sergeant began stepping back from his men.

****

Moments later, Fée soars into the sky towards the old estate she remembered all too well.

Back on the ground, the Sergeant nervously holds the reigns of a pumpkin carriage pulled by two magical horses moving at breakneck speed. One of the horses was stout with a thick neck, and the other was taller and had a sharp chin.

As Fée glides, she thinks about the events that brought her here, and it begins to rain. As the showers fall from the night sky, Fée remained bone dry as if shielded from just atop her skin and clothes.

First, Prince Henry and Aschenputtel

Then, Beauty and her Beast

Followed by Ferdinand and Phillip

And now

Snow and Rose too.

She had only responded to the king's request because these people were important to her. Fair-folk don't usually attach to humans, but she played a role in each of their lives. She had helped to shape their stories.

This one was especially important; it was her first story, after all.

She landed gently on the edge of the stone path at the gate entrance. Always on the right foot first. The rain was still gentle. The old house was still there after these many years. This place was once a grand estate, but time had done his damage.

Fée looked closer at the manor to the front windows, and, to her utter amazement, she saw her. There she was inside with a fire lit, sweeping the floor. She was smiling and dancing ever so gracefully with each broom sweep as though there were no cares in the world. Her frame was slim. Her hair was tied up with a sash and knotted on top like a peasant girl again. She was as beautiful now as the day Fée first saw her.

Fée moved up the path toward the house, and she remembered the day they met. Right there, out in the garden, she presented herself to the girl as a tree above her mother's grave. She was just a peasant girl, but Fée saw greatness in her; the poor girl just needed a nudge was all.

As she walked closer, the warm memories began to wash away as the sight of the girl standing there alive must mean a horrible truth. She could see how many birds flittered about the room all around the girl as she sang and cleaned.

The feelings of rage and grief swelled until Fée could no longer hold herself back. This monster stood before her. This liar. This betrayer. This murderer. This… Witch!

Her pace quickened, and when she was sure the girl would hear it, Fée let the word blast out from her:

“CindereeeellAAAAH”

The girl stiffened and moved towards the door, swiftly opening it wide to greet her guest. Her eyes lit up, and she smiled.

"Godmother, you finally made it. I thought you would have been here sooner." She stepped back, gesturing her hand toward the fireplace. "Do come in, won't you."

Fée stood there silent. The harmonic thrumming of the rain was the only sound between them.

The girl’s smile persisted as she walked back into the house.

“Well then, whenever you’re ready.”

Cinderella walked inside and sat at a table already set for tea. She let her hair down and whistled to her birds, which suddenly shifted as a group to one side of the room to clear the way for their visitor.

Fée entered the house but remained at the doorstep. Her voice was low and powerful.

“What have you done?”

“I’ve done exactly what you taught me to do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you above all people should know I have a knack for getting what I want.”

“What you want!? What else could you possibly want?” She stepped closer to her, thrusting a chair across the room in a blue burst. “You lived in a fairy tale! Was that not good enough? You had to steal someone else’s.”

Cinderella snapped out of her chair. "I never wanted a fairy tale! I never wanted to be a princess. I just wanted to be in control of my life. I traded one prison for another; the only difference being one was in a palace."

Fée's eyes glowed bright sapphire, and her feet raised slightly off the floor. Wind blustered into the room as if from nowhere.

“That was your story!”

Cinderella moved directly in front of Fée's face locking her eyes and shoving her finger into Fée’s shoulder.

“I’ve changed my story, Godmother.”

“But How and …Why?” shaking her head.

"He came to me just as you did; upon my asking." She sauntered towards the fireplace. "He was vast and beautiful as the storm. He said he was my Godfather and that he could give me all the things you could not."

Fée's voice trembled. "He is no one's Godfather Cinderella, and you know that."

“Of course I know that!”

Tears now filled Fée‘s grey-blue eyes. “Then why didn’t you come to me?”

Cinderella shook with a sobbing rage. “BECAUSE YOU DID THIS TO ME!”

A force erupted from Cinderella that pulsed outward into the room, knocking Fée against the wall.

"YOU LEFT ME THERE. I had no power, no purpose. But he came to me, and he gave me both."

Cinderella crossed the room and picked up a small black book. It was elegant and bound in some sort of animal skin. Fée pulled herself to her feet.

"He gave me this book along with twenty thousand gold pieces to make my fortune. He told me that all I had to do was collect my enemies' signatures, and I would have their power. I would have their stories."

She opened the book and ran her finger down the pages, slowly touching each signature she had collected. "Your light is fading, but with enough stories, I would have power enough to defeat even you." She stepped closer and closer toward the old woman. "After all, you gave a little of your magic to each of us."

“I knew they would never give their stories to me. I would have to take them.

- So I used my birds.”

Fée finally came to her senses. She reached for her wand but hesitated.

The birds began to gather around Cinderella. “A fight would be pointless, Fée, and you know it.”

Fée and Cinderella were now face-to-face. No longer a peasant girl and no longer a princess. They were as they had begun - A Fairy Godmother and a Witch.

Cinderella raised the black book to Fée.

“All that is left, Godmother, is for you to sign my book.”