The Ghost of the Fairy Prince

“If fairies don’t have souls, then what happens to them when they die?”

My nephew asked the question, and I turned to him to answer. But I stopped in the midst of taking a breath, for I saw that he was turned away from me, toward his grandfather, the storyteller.

I studied fairies for my profession. My nephew knew this. But he also knew that I had no spellbinding stories tell.

Except that this time, I did. For I had seen a fairy die once. A prince, he was. He glittered like a star.

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The Parasitic Fairy Worm

Two neighboring towns. One human. One fairy. An experiment in living openly and peaceably with each other after generations of legend and lore had taught caution and suspicion as well as curiosity and wonder. But something had gone wrong.

And it started with a paper cut in the human town.

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The Maximal Pixie

“I’m getting incident reports from all over the station now. Someone woke up this morning with half their head shaved. It’s not messing with any of the systems though, or equipment.”

“So, not a gremlin?”

“Apparently not.”

“Then what?”

The station’s security chief glanced down, as if she were looking at a document. “I’m trying to parse all the objective details from the reports to see if there’s a pattern, a profile.”

“And?”

“It…likes to play tricks?”

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The Transmuting Tapestry

It wasn’t the fairy queen who first caught my eye.

It was the glimpse of a laughing face, glowing in some dim reflection in the dark lush forest behind, its deep green shadows holding more magical mysteries, every wonder found in the natural world, and wonders beyond ordinary fantasies.

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Nikola and the Two Crows

There was, in a time not too long past, a youth by the name of Nikola, who walked within a wood beside his town. The paths were well-trodden. Nikola met many whom he met often. He gave and received greeting. He strolled past green leaves and hanging fruit in spring and summer. He strolled past fire-gold leaves in fall and snow-laden branches in winter.

Then, one day, he almost strolled past the most captivating sight he had ever seen in the wood.

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The Black Pomegranate Seeds

There was a very rich lady, very rich indeed. And one day she saw a spider pulling her egg sack into a corner so that dozens, even hundreds, of her progeny could split forth from it. This lady, envious and desirous, thought she already had a few children of her own, decided she would have as many children as the spider had. Her husband was sowing his seed in whatever earth would have him. She too would make her own seed to sow, even more and farther.

She sent forth her minions to find a great inventor, one who could build and one who could birth.

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The Swindler and the Sprites

Have you ever seen a swarm of sprites, in a murderous rage, who were just released from a servitude into which they were tricked?

If your answer is “no,” and especially if you then crinkled your brow in mild and concerned disapproval, then I imagine you’re one of the wise ones, at least when it comes to encounters with fairy folk.

My answer is “yes.” But it’s not what you think.

I’m not the reckless fool who tricked them.

Nor am I reckless fool who freed them.

I just happened to be around when it all happened.

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