Faerie Dust

Perched on top of the ice-capped mountains, where freezing winds blew strongly and temperatures dropped below zero, lay the Frost Kingdom. Many fey beings avoided the territory as the weather made it difficult to adapt, even for short periods of time. Thus, if there was any word of importance to be sent to or from the Frost King, a messenger would be brought forward to deliver it.

This messenger in particular wasn't like any other winter sprite. While ice fey were known for their cold demeanor and hostile attitude, Faenor was warm and friendly. Despite his piercing blue eyes and silver-white hair, a feature that all ice fey had, he didn't share any of their unfavourable mannerisms bar for you: he had a penchant for mischief.

Although ice fey weren't particularly friendly with other beings, they were amiable among their own kind. Faenor was a favourite among the female snow fairies, but there was only one who captured his heart; the daughter of the Frost King himself, the Ice Princess. Sadly for him, she was of royalty and he wouldn't dare ask for her hand in marriage. He was just a mere messenger after all.

What Faenor didn't know was that fate worked in mysterious ways.



"Winter is ending and spring is dawning upon us. I'm going to be very busy helping the faeries changing the season. There are rainbows to be made, animals to wake up from their hibernation, and above all, melting away all this ice," Yarrow listed, his eyes narrowing exasperatedly. He was Faenor's best friend and a pixie; they were very close with each other, like brothers of kin.

"Well, I had to freeze all the ponds and lakes and create snow at certain places for the winter. After all that, I still need to report to my King for my messenger duties. At least you don't have to serve your King," Faenor replied matter-of-factly, playfully swatting at his tiny, fluttering friend. Yarrow managed to dodge the sprite's slender fingers by barely a few inches.

"Oi, stop that! How many times do I need to tell you that isn't funny?" he cried out indignantly.

"Well, if you could avoid buzzing in my face, I would consider not having to swat you," Faenor replied mischievously, grinning.

The pixie frowned, mouth about to open in a retort, but he was interrupted by the winter sprite suddenly.

"The King calls for me. I must go." Faenor gave a fleeting apologetic look and flew off, leaving the pixie with his arms folded across his chest.

When Faenor arrived back at the Frost Kingdom, he was instantly caught by the sight of all of the snow fairies and winter sprites gathered inside the King's Palace. He pushed his way into the middle of the throne room, bowing his head, and lowered down to his knees in front of the Royal family, addressing the King.

"Forgive me, my Lord, for not being on time. I was in the Land of the Faeries, but I came here as fast as the winds would carry me."

"My dear Faenor. Forever frolicking with the faeries." The King shook his head softly, a small smile playing at the corners of his pale, blue lips. Faenor grimaced and if he could blush, his cheeks would have been on fire.

"Rise, Faenor. I have very important news to inform my subjects personally."

The young sprite got up slowly, a thousand questions running through his head. Usually, he would be the one to convey the King's message to the others, unless there was news of tragedy or war. Faenor gulped down what felt like bile that was slowly creeping up his throat. This was definitely not good.

The King got up from his frost covered throne and made his way to where Faenor was standing nervously. The King stood before the young sprite, and he gave out an involuntary shiver.

"Faenor, you must have heard about The Boy," the King said, his deep voice clear despite the low murmurs of all the ice fey that had gathered in the palace. Faenor nodded soundlessly, his eyes downcast. He gazed at his bare feet instead of the King.

"He is The One."

Faenor's head shot up, meeting the King's cerulean eyes, his own piercing blues wide as saucers.

"It c-can't be," he stammered. "It was just a story, it's not real."

"Oh, it is real, my dear lad," the Snow Queen voiced out. "And you, young Faenor, have been chosen to guide and bring him back to the Fey World."

Faenor's legs almost gave way, but he stood his ground nonetheless. The King nodded at him and strode back to his throne. He turned to his subjects and addressed them loudly.

"The Prophecy is not just a bedtime story. It is real, and the Barrier between the two Worlds is slowly falling apart. The Royals have kept this secret for a very long time, as we do not think it is necessary to raise the alarm. However, the Dreaded One has slowly been plotting and we have no choice, but to reveal the truth."

The palace erupted into a frenzy with everyone talking at once. Faenor barely heard the officials trying to bring order; he was lost in his own head.

He was one of the chosen three to bring The Boy to the Fey World, and he had no idea how he was going to do that. He was not a soldier and he didn't know whether he could accomplish this mission.

He was, afterall, a mere messenger.