2.

2.

“What were you thinking?!” Roared Dalun, High Chancellor of the Queen's Court. Mirabelle sighed, thinking perhaps she should have tried to sneak past the old man, though she supposed it would have been useless. He had most likely felt the taint of the human world clinging to her skin the moment she had returned, as every other Fårie most likely had, though she hoped they would be too distracted by the confusion of the feeling to immediately track down its source. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, watching as he stood rigidly before the window, staring out with empty eyes as he repeatedly ran his hands through his white hair, a nervous habit she had thought he had finally given up. She felt a twinge of regret for unnerving him so, but even if she could have undone her actions, she knew she would not.

“You know the Fair Folk are no longer permitted to leave The Glade �" the human world is dangerous, Mirabelle!” He fumed, his posture remaining stiff as he continued to stare out at nothing. A tall man with his white hair to his mid-back and large pointed ears, Dalun still cut a striking figure even in his late thirty second century of age. Mirabelle had always secretly thought he really looked more like an early twentieth century man herself, but she would never admit it for fear of further inflating his already over-inflated ego. “How could you be so reckless..?” He sighed, shaking his head forlornly. Mirabelle's wings twitched in irritation, resenting the obvious disapproval and disappointment in the Elder Fåries tone.

“The Human world is sick,” she said, gritting her teeth tightly to keep from saying anything too outlandish. Dalun appeared unmoved by her reasoning, and so she couldn't quite bite back her cry of frustration, “It's dying! How can you just ignore that? If I can feel it so strongly now, then you must have been feeling it for some time, feeling it grow and fester... and you've done nothing!” The Chancellor snapped his furious gaze to the young girl, his hard glare meeting her own for a moment, before he sighed and turned his leaf green eyes to the west window.

“I am aware of the sickness.” He finally admitted, though Mirabelle could not help but notice that he could not bring himself to speak above a mutter as he did. There was a long and uncomfortable pause between them, neither willing to be the one to admit to their own guilty actions. “But the Human world does not concern us any longer. We are not permitted to leave The Glade. You know this.”

Mirabelle dropped her eyes to the floor before Dalun could turn and meet them with his own disappointed gaze. She kept her eyes averted, taking heavy, frustrated breaths to try and calm her irritation so she would not begin screaming at the Elder of the unfairness of it all.

“Dangerous or not,” she eventually muttered, “the Humans do not deserve to die. If there is even a chance that we can prevent the death of their world and their kind, then is it not our responsibility to try and save them?” She tried to reason, but her pleas fell upon stubbornly deaf ears.

“That is not your decision to make, Mirabelle!” Dalun roared, causing the younger Fårie to flinch and lower her eyes, as she hunched her shoulders and wrapped one arm around herself. “You cannot just decide such matters yourself, you are not our Queen, and you have not yet gained the wisdom she has in her lifetime. The fate of the Human world will be judged when appropriate, and even if the Queen decides that we are to help the Humans, you will not leave The Glade again. Is that clear?!”

Mirabelle kept her eyes averted, refusing to acknowledge the command in anyway. Dalun shook his head at her stubbornness, and was about to turn away when a small chirp drew his attention to the tiny chick Mirabelle had kept clutched to her breast with one arm, as she attempted to hide it from him.

“Mirabelle, please tell me you did not bring a living creature, evidence of your disregard of the rules, back from the Human world with you.” Dalun sighed, his hand raising to rub at his brow as if he had a terrible pain there.

“I didn't bring a living creature back from the Human world with me.” Mirabelle said, though the sarcastic twist to her words did little to ease Dalun's concerns for her.

“Child, what were you thinking?!” Cried the Elder, causing Mirabelle to flinch slightly at the accusation in the mans tone. “Do you wish to be sent to the Coccoon? Is that it? You want to be left to rot in the Fårie prison?”

“He was going to die!” Mirabelle cried, her face a blotchy shade of red as she turned to meet the Elders furious glare with her own. “I couldn't abandon him, he had already been left to fend for himself as his world died around him! I am a Fårie! I was born to care, to nurture, to bring life and Magick to the worlds! I cannot sit by and leave something to die when I have the power to stop it!” She ranted, waving her free arm in support of her argument. When she was finished she averted her eyes, looking anywhere but at the hard green eyes that were still locked onto her.

“Feel better for your tantrum child?” Dalun asked quietly, though fury still seeped into the gentle words. Mirabelle glanced at him briefly, before she shrugged and went back to staring at the far wall.

“No.” She muttered, glancing down to the chick itself, as it huddled against her for warmth. “But, I stand by all I said. I will not abandon him, even now. He needs me.” She said, raising her hand to gently stroke the small creatures soft head.

“Did anyone see you bring that thing in here?” Dalun asked, just as quietly as he had previously, though instead of fury she could now hear tiredness suffusing his tone.

“No...” She muttered again, watching from the corner of her eye as the Elder turned away, shaking his head as he went. He stopped before the west window, his favorite view from this room, watching the sun as it began its slow but determined journey across the sky.

“We were supposed to be the better race.” He said, almost as though he were merely speaking his own thoughts aloud in an empty room. Mirabelle kept a sidelong view of him, wary of this sudden change of topic. “We were created of Magick, of nature... We were to guide them, nurture them in the ways of the world. But their hunger for power and their tendancy towards violence overwhelmed us, and we fled, abandoning them entirely. We were not unscathed, our ranks severely depleted. They were the brutish descendants of animals, and they behaved as such. We did no wrong by separating ourselves from their world.”

“How can we still say that, if we just let them all die, if we let their whole world die?” Mirabelle asked quietly, aiming the question to the Elders turned back, and not truly expecting to be answered.

The question weighed heavily on the Chancellors mind though, and in truth it had for some time. Yet, he could no more answer it than Mirabelle herself. The silence stretched around them, making the very air feel hot and awkward as it seemed to yawn wide and swallow them whole.

“It is not our decision to make child,” he said eventually, wearily turning his back on the sunrise to the strong young Fårie waiting by the far wall of the room. “Just as it is not my decision as to what will become of you now. I wish I could help you child, but you've broken the Queen's rule, and you'll have to face your own judgement before her for it. Not even I, could get you out of that.” Mirabelle's wings flickered agitatedly, the only sign that she had been affected by the Elders sympathetic speech. She held her head high, and slowly stepped closer to him.

“I have tried,” she said simply, shrugging her shoulders as if that settled the matter. “And if that leads to judgement, punishment, or even banishment, I'll not ever regret it. I will stand before the Queen and explain, but I shall not plead for forgiveness. Not when I know in my heart, that I have done what was right.” Mirabelle's wings fluttered quickly, drawing her closer still to the Elder, until they were almost touching and she was able to lean close and whisper into his ear. “But you tell me, Father,” she sneered, as if the very word offended her. “When the sickness spreads, and begins to infect our own world, will you be able to say the same? Will you wish you had stood beside me and fought for our home?” She asked, watching his expression carefully before her wings began to flutter quickly, ppreparing to hastily carry her away. Dalun's firm grip on her arm stopped her from flying away though, and she glared at him with contempt as he held her still.

“Make sure nobody finds that thing, Mirabelle.” He said quietly, before releasing her. Mirabelle cocked her head, uncertain of what to make of his words. The fact that he was willing to allow her even a headstart before reporting her was something she hadn't expected, to be given advice also seemed too much of a helping hand. She glanced down at the tiny chick, and gave no response to her father before she flew from the room and hastened to hide the small creature in her home before she would no doubt be arrested.

Dalun remained as he was for some time after she left, remembering, contemplating and trying to find a different answer to the question his daughter had left him with, for the only answer he could presently think of was distressing in itself. After a time, he shook his head, tucking a small braid behind his ear as he turned his head to watch the mornin sun catch on the dewy flowers outside.

“Yes Mirabelle,” he whispered, certain his young child would not be able to hear his confession. “When Death is finished with the Human world, and comes next for The Glade, I will wish I could have stood at your side. But I cannot, not yet. For now, I can only pray that you, and your sister, will be spared.”