The Fairy Diary Day 461 #TFDbyRWOz2

Meribabell writes:

The bell continued to hum – long after being struck. It was a welcome sign to all. That fact and the greater fact that we were all still standing was proof to us that the end had not come. But we did not know yet whether the risk had born fruit. I found myself contemplating whether or not we should strike it again. 

Then from off in the distance an echo reached our ears. A reverberation similar in tone to that of the Crack of Doom. And then the tinkle of seven silver bells looming larger as out of the thin air, the dragon Rayjil materialized bearing on her back our friends Noralei and Gibley. 

I was ecstatic with joy – flying loop de loops in the air around them. And Dunfallon clambered up beside them and squeezed both in a fierce embrace. 

Only then did I notice the distraughtness in Noralei’s face. And the Queen did too. 

Her Majesty asked, “What is wrong, my child?”

Noralei replied, ”You should not have brought us back. Not now. We were defeating the darkness.”

The Fairy Diary Day 459 #TFDbyRWOz2

Meribabell writes:

The Faerie Queen held court this morning, and all of us were invited in. She was fully conversant with our petition and had been well briefed by her prime minister (who strangely was not in attendance). The High Fairy did all the talking on our side, answering quite skillfully each objection hitherto unraised – a testament to the thoroughness of our preparations. 

Still, sitting there engrossed in the proceedings, I gained no sense of which way her majesty was leaning. She was serene through it all, and made me proud to be her subject. 

When the hall fell silent after his excellency finished his last explanation regarding the risk involved in striking the Crack of Doom, the Queen surprised us. Instead of adjourning for the day, she asked if there were anyone present to speak for those who were missing. 

At this invitation Dunfallon leapt to his feet and without acknowledgement, mounted a spirited plea for the rescue of our friends. At the  close of his remarks the Queen’s composure changed. Before anyone else could speak, she stood and ruled immediately in our favor, commanding that we make the attempt at their rescue without delay. 

And I found that I loved our Queen all the more. 

Day Five Hundred Twenty Four #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

It feels good to be underway again – out in calm seas under sunny skies, especially as the Captain has decided to take the risk and put in at the next port up the coast.

Elijah has invested all his waking hours with the Raj family, which he gathered into our cabin to go over the slightly different route they will be taking.

At one point he sent for me. I was with Tomas in the Purser’s cabin, listening to his arguments for taking on the job again. It seems some of the older members of the Raj family were battling sea sickness.

I rejoined Elijah in our cabin and did what I could to help them cope with the malady.

Day Four Hundred Forty Seven #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

I never thought I’d see disagreement between the Captain and Elijah. They argued upon Elijah’s return from the city last night and they took it up again this morning.

They were still at it when I went ashore. Emil wasn’t in yet, but I felt that was no excuse not to begin. When he did arrive he immediately asked me if a decision had been reached about his special container.

I told him that the main issue was still unresolved. As he suspected it would be.

The Captain is unwilling to go to their sister port for any reason especially with anything that could cause a forfeiture of his vessel.

I’m for the risk but no one is asking me.

Day Four Hundred Seven #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

The crunch of our footsteps upon the caked salt, kept us company as we stuck to the tracks of the many who have passed before us.

It was easier to keep our heads down and eyes focused on the patterns on the ground rather than the over bright whiteness stretching beyond, made worse by the glowing haze that hugs the horizon.

That’s probably why we did not see the muddy quagmire until we almost stumbled into it. I looked up to see a man buried up to his neck in the sticky mess.

Elijah and I freed him with some risk to ourselves. He barely nodded his thanks as he sped away.

Does bearing the mark always make one surly?