Every one of us follows our king,
Until the day we win.
Then Sprites will have power,
Greater than any sorcerer.
My friends are called Hiccup, Grapple and Fatlip,
Lickspittle, Havenot and Nosedrip.
One truly fearsome band,
Now you finally understand.
We love mayhem and creating a crisis,
That is what a Sprite truly is.
Blakast stepped out from the shadows applauding generously. The Sprites looked up with concern until they recognised their guest, and then each of them returned to their preoccupation. The camp leader, Bullring, stood a foot taller than any of his peers. His flat nose was pierced by a large gold circlet and his eyes were narrowed in suspicion.
“Look who it is, boys,” Bullring announced.
“The magician who can’t do any magic.”
The other Sprites laughed in a high-pitched squeal. Blakast nervously joined in and before he could point out that he did know some magic, another voice spoke up.
“What was his name again? Blaggard the Unpopular.”
This clever play on words brought greater mirth to the Sprite camp. Bullring, who had been looking for something to delay his boredom, was quick to join in.
“No, chums, his name is Breakfast the Unbearable.”
A chorus of fresh laughter infected the camp with tears rolling down the Sprite leader’s amused face. Blakast fingered the dagger that he hid under his robes. Unfortunately, the numbers against him were too great.
“Are you sure, boss, because I thought it was Blackness the Unsavoury,” another voice ventured.
After a period of unreserved mockery, Bullring managed to contain his own laughter long enough to speak.
“What do you want?” he asked.
Blakast the usurper, who had smiled through the whole contagious hysterics, although his eyes remained humourless, replied.
“I need to see the Fairy King.”
The camp faded in to silence at the mention of their esteemed leader.
“You got an appointment?” Bullring questioned.
“No,” Blakast admitted.
“Well, no one sees the boss without an appointment.”
“How do I make one?” the usurper responded.
“You have to go through me.” Bullring swelled with his own importance.
Blakast was powerful enough to deal with a single Sprite; unfortunately, he was vastly outnumbered, and the Sprites were confident because they had the most powerful sorcerer in Fable as their benefactor. Ignoring the dark voices in his head, Blakast remained calm, playing the Sprites’ game.
“I would like an appointment to see the Fairy King.”
“What is so urgent?” Bullring enquired.
“I have a gift for him,” Blakast offered.
“What kind of gift?”
Blakast struggled to control the conversation. He had little leverage and The Never was constantly trying to trick him into a mistake.
“A girl.” He decided to play his hand.
“What would our king want with a girl?” Bullring dismissed.
“There are no girls in the Evergarden,” Grapple argued.
“This girl is special,” Blakast pressed. “She can sing better than any instrument plays and knows all kinds of fairy tales.”
Bullring was beginning to get uncomfortable; he had thought Blakast was wasting their time though now he was not so sure, and the Fairy King was not known for his understanding.
“Where is she?” Bullring demanded.
“I can bring her to you in exchange for an audience with the king,” Blakast bartered.
Seeing the usurper’s idea, Bullring decided to steal it. Perhaps the Fairy King would be happy and grant him the praise.
“Find the girl and bring her here,” Bullring ordered.
Blakast looked around helplessly, knowing there was nothing he could do. The Never had defeated him again, and it was the best he could do to escape the camp.
I want that girl,” Bullring roared as his minions scattered in all directions to search for their quarry.
Damselfly was wondering if Blakast would ever return. In the dark, swirling fog it was easy to understand how a mind could create something like The Never to avoid being alone. The Evergarden was as solitary and desolate as she had been told. Still Damselfly began to overcome her fear. She remembered how scary it had been to leave her home and family behind at the beginning of her mission. The obsidian woods that she had experienced in the Wintergarden were equally as creepy and nothing hiding in all this fog could compare to a full-grown Peritwinkle. Or to the terrifying creatures she had glimpsed in the Magicgarden gaol. Damselfly had faced her deepest fears in the Dreamgarden and survived so that facing a leviathan in a game of riddles had seemed possible. Damselfly had come farther than she could ever have imagined when Death set her this task. The obstacles she had hurdled were staggering and there was no way she was going to give up now.
“You have one second to retrieve my timepiece or I will take your mother to the other side.”
Damselfly would keep fighting for her mother no matter what. Time remained broken and with that knowledge came hope. The princess thought she heard something and hoped Blakast had returned. She held her breath to listen and when no sound presented, Damselfly thought it had been a trick of the mind. Then a laugh came from somewhere not too distant.
A pair of eyes blinked from out of the darkness before Damselfly realised she was surrounded.
“Take me to the Fairy King,” she cried.
A raucous group of Sprites emerged from the fog, laughing at Damselfly’s commands.
“She wants to meet the king.”
“Has she got a death wish?”
The Sprites pulled Damselfly’s red hair, mocked her broken wing and pulled grotesque faces in an attempt to intimidate her. Princess Damselfly remembered what her mother had said about ignoring Celeste and Coral when they teased her and remained impassive.
“Let’s take her back to Bullring before his nose falls off,” one cheeky Sprite relayed.
Damselfly allowed herself to be escorted by the naughty Sprites, who ran and skipped beside her with glee. The princess was secretly happy too.
