To Soar

by amayaa

I am trapped. Faeries hate being confined, especially Air Faeries such as myself. What I want more than anything is to soar throughout the skies of Neopia, bestowing what gifts I can on the pets inhabiting the world. I want to feel the wind against my face, see the sun rise and set as the days go by, play among my sisters—in short, I want to live a life of freedom.

I glance around, trying for what seems like the millionth time to discover a way to escape. I’m a fighter, you see, not one to give up. But as always, nothing comes to mind. The jar I’ve been trapped in apparently unbreakable, and the lid refuses to budge. All I can do is sit on this wooden shelf, collecting dust and wasting away.

Balthazar is the one who captured me. I had heard rumors of him whispered fearfully within groups of Faeries, a frightening man who was incredibly adept at capturing our race. I was young, though, and angry that someone would do such a thing, so I sought him out. I was captured almost before I could breathe, and now I can only curse my foolishness.

That detestable man is lounging back in his chair as if it were a throne instead of the gnarled, doggedly carved wood it is. He lives—we live—in a small house, a cottage, really, though this is the only room I’ve seen. It’s tiny, stuffy and full of all sorts of unimaginable clutter. He treats rare items as if they’re mere garbage! He infuriates me, that man.

Balthazar suddenly glances at the clock that sits crookedly at best on his desk. A grin comes over his face and he walks towards the shelf that holds all of us that he has imprisoned. He does this every week, and to this day I have no idea what it is. He takes a selection of Faeries and then leaves. When he returns, he is empty-handed. Who knows what vile things he does to my sisters?

I blink, uncomprehending, as his meaty hand stretches out to my jar. He is going to choose me this time? As he lifts it, I hunch down and hug my knees. I may be a fighter, but I now know when it is wise to be afraid.

I feel the motion of walking; he is taking us somewhere. But where? Billions of ideas rush through my head at this question, none of which is pleasant.

I am suddenly jolted to the side as I am set down. I hear his receding footsteps, and only then do I open my eyes. I am staring into two sparkling purple eyes—a Kau.

“Oh, Mom, a Faerie!” she squeals excitedly. “Can I have it?”

The girl, her owner, apparently, smiles affectionately and picks up the jar. “Of course!” She twists the lid, and it pops free. I stare for a moment, disbelieving. I am free. I flutter out of my confinement—oh, how good it feels to use my wings again!—and as a gesture of gratitude, I bestow an ability on the young pet.

I suddenly take notice of my surroundings. The donation tree. Balthazar collects faeries to give to poor Neopians? To help out the pets and owners? I soar off into the sky with a smile. Maybe he’s not so bad, after all…

The End