Page 27 of Chased By the Fairy

At least the animal sprites received compliments for their differences, whereas he was apparently useless, colourless, and boring. Perhaps that was what truly crushed his spirit as time passed.

The only thing battling it was how Cypress had called him pretty.Beyond pretty,actually. As if his beauty transpired this world and into the next in his eyes.

Sorrel rolled over into a ball, giving the glass and everyone else his back, when a cold pang radiated around his heart.

A boom vibrated the atmosphere, as it had many times this day, while the trickling of water and the patter of rain sounded outside the walls. It made him feel all the more miserable.

Sorrel lost hope when he’d learnt that flower fairies usually went into hibernation during winter. There was no use for them since the world froze. No plants needed maintaining, the winter season cold and barren.

He isn’t looking for me.Nobody except maybe Greta would be.

She’d never find him. No one would.

Those who came here did so infrequently, and they were who Jeffers explicitly trusted.

Each day in his cage took more and more life out of him. The first day he’d fought, much like Serenity. The second day that waned, but he still cursed behind the glass.

By today, the fifth possible day, Sorrel’s enthusiasm had completely died. The boredom killed his hunger to move, and already he was turning into the pink grasshopper that did little but stare pitifully at the wall.

He missed the sun, the warmth, the sky. He missed looking out his window at the stars. He missed Greta and the motherly way she held him in her warm, wrinkled hand.

Another boom sounded, the thunder reverberating. The tree shook as an unusually heavy gust of wind caused it to creak and twist. If only that was enough to break or dislodge the glass so they could escape.

Sorrel flinched when a droplet splattered on the ground next to him, then tiny flecks of wetness sprayed the back of his neck.

He turned to look at it, before eyeing where it had come from above. A crack at the corner of his nook leaked, as if the bark had peeled partially away due to the rain. No light shone through.

Another droplet fell, and he scrambled to his feet.

Once more, he looked up at the fairy lights. The ceiling glistened, and he realised it’d been glistening for a while when he thought it was just the reflection of the lights.

Walking over to the wall, he touched it and it felt mushy. Then he jumped, only using a small amount of his bouncing power, and shoved at where the water was coming from. Although soft, it was obvious he wouldn’t be able to break through it. The minuscule crack looked fairly new.

His gaze shifted to where he saw more water trickling against the ceiling, and he stepped back when he noticed the floor was saturated. It’d run across the roof and then split against the edges of the glass keeping him inside.

They were usually fed through the small hole next to it. It, too, was wet.

Sorrel walked over to it, a small puddle sloshing around his feet, and he touched the wood between the hole and the glass. It was mushy and soft.

Is this my chance?

With optimism rushing through him like the billow of a flame, he pushed on the glass keeping him trapped. It didn’t budge, but it did wiggle ever so slightly – more than usual.

After ramming his shoulder into it a few times, gaining the attention of Serenity, he dug his fingers into the softened wood between the feeding hole and the glass. A thin chunk broke off.

His lips parted on a silent gasp as he looked down at his hand in surprise. He couldn’t believe a piece actually came off.

His eyes slowly drifted up to Serenity, whose gaze narrowed on the wood he was clutching.

Then he was in motion, clawing and ripping at the bark. It was slow as he dug around one side of the glass, only pausing when some of Jeffers’ guards roamed the level they were on.

As he tried to weaken the wall, Serenity and Glay, the squirrel sprite, came to watch. Even the little pink grasshopper sprite appeared to have more life as they also watched.

His finger poked through a small gap, wiggling for freedom. Once he was able to get his fingers through, he gained the ability to rip off larger chunks until he’d made a decent hole.

“Now bash on the glass,” Glay quietly demanded. “Digging will take too long. Hopefully you can dislodge it.”

Doing as instructed, Sorrel rammed his shoulder into the glass with all his might. It wiggled and shifted forward. He did it repeatedly until the glass twisted where they had locked him in from the outside and he stumbled forward into the space within the middle of their nooks.

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