Page 9 of Chased By the Fairy

Sorrel once more brought his eyes to it as they walked side by side. Above them, ribbons were strung between the repurposed toys and food-tin buildings, forming narrow paths.

“Since there were stories of them, I thought fairies like you had to exist in the world. I wondered if humans had seen your kind and written tales of little kingdoms.” Sorrel took the last bite of the syrup-covered fruit stick he’d been eating, trying to hide his face so Cypress couldn’t see his expression. “I just didn’t think I’d ever get the chance to meet them, or that there would be a town like this where we could go.”

“I’m glad you like this place.” Cypress shone a warm smile at Sorrel, his pretty eyes bowing. “It gets bigger every year. We all work together to bring more here when we find useful things left behind by the humans.”

Cypress continued to stare at him, his expression shifting into something tender Sorrel didn’t understand.

“It’s wonderful,” Sorrel complimented, then looked away when it felt like butterflies were taking flight in his gut.

He gasped when he saw another fairy, a flower one like Cypress. Her dress was long, and her wings were far more feminine than Cypress’, but her beauty was instantly captivating.

Sorrel went to pat his arm so he could point at her. In his excitement, he wanted to show Cypress, as if he’d never seen his own kind.

All Sorrel felt was air.

His heart stuttered when he thought he was alone.

He turned to look around, and Cypress was returning from a different stall they’d been walking past.

“Here, try this.” Cypress offered a wooden mug carved from a nut’s shell. Inside, a drop of honey-coloured liquid reflected the lights. “It’s nectar mead.”

Cypress was attempting to show Sorrel every new experience he could. Food, drinks, the town itself, and the people within it. Sorrel adored him for it.

Sorrel instantly brought it to his lips for a sip and then grinned as he drank the rest.

“It’s delicious,” he said as he turned that grin to Cypress when he was done, messily licking at his lips to make sure he got every drop.

His wings fluttered in response and a smile brightened his features, making his maple eyes sparkle. Sorrel paused when he thought Cypress’ gaze darkened as Sorrel licked his mouth, rather than subtly wiping it.

Shit. Was that improper?

His ears heated in embarrassment, but Cypress turned his sight away to look around.

Like Cypress couldn’t contain his excitement on Sorrel’s behalf, he rushed them inside an upside-down lunchbox. He stopped at the doorway and turned to find Sorrel had lagged behind.Cypress waved his hand after his half-sprint, telling him to hurry.

“This is my favourite place in town.”

Inside was like a bar, with little round tables made from round pizza box holders. Different sprites stood around them, chittering and chattering. The world’s smallest violin sang a jolly tune from where it was being played in the corner, while the beetle-like sprite tapped his foot.

Cypress brought him to a big device in the opposing corner, after leading him across the dance floor. Sorrel had seen electrical devices before, although Greta wasn’t very good with complicated ones.

It had a screen like the TV in her loungeroom, but it was much smaller. There were buttons below it the size of Sorrel’s hands, and a random mushroom-shaped stick.

“What is it?” he asked when black-and-white images flashed on the screen.

Loud repetitive music came from it, and his mouth flew open wide.

“The humans called it a gaming consol. It’s from the 90s or something. The sprites collect batteries to power the city and they always make sure this has one.”

Cypress showed Sorrel how to play it, his wings flapping so he could position himself above it with ease. He hovered in the air, his legs kicking up behind him.

Sorrel laughed when he took over, having to kneel on the clear-cased device to clumsily press the buttons. He bashed at them sporadically, whereas Cypress had played with experience.

“I can’t believe you beat me!” Cypress gestured to the score at the top. “You didn’t even know what this was a few minutes ago.”

Sorrel had always been a fast learner.

“It’s not my fault that I’m naturally good at everything I do. Perhaps you should just get better.”

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