Rehabilitation:Part Two

     "Xandra!" Fyora looked over her doubtfully. "You do not look well."

     In truth, Xandra did not feel well. Her night was spent meticulously braiding and unbraiding her hair until her fingers ached.

     "I was thinking we could share breakfast today…" the Faerie Queen stared apprehensively. "But you clearly need more sleep, so perhaps another time would be-"

     "No!" Xandra barked, pulling out the opposite chair with a screech. She stole a glance at the concern on Fyora's face, and guilt stabbed her. "I'm really hungry," she added apologetically, cracking what she hoped was a convincing smile.

     Fyora still frowned but sat down. "I'm glad, because I had your favourites prepared."

     Xandra stared at the round clothed table, taking in the sight of the surprising array of foods. There were breakfast classics, like the croissants she had almost exclusively eaten the past few days. Besides that, there were Faerieland staples, such cereal, toast, and sandwiches shaped and coloured like the different faeries. When she was younger and naïve, they were magically delicious, but as she grew jaded, they became egotistical and a little weird - "Why does all the food have wings? Do you like eating your own body parts?" – she remembered saying. However, one platter was a far cry from the rest.

     "Spooky doughnuts?" she implored, picking one up.

     "Straight from the Haunted Woods," Fyora said with a hint of pride.

     "How did you know?" she squinted at the orange frosting, like it was a trick of the light.

     "A Bruce shopkeeper told me, one day when I was exploring our new neighbours' home."

     The Xweetok smiled lopsidedly. "It was the only thing I got from him…" She stared at the doughnut longer, smile fading. "Why did you do this?"

     Fyora was taken aback. "What do you mean?"

     Xandra took one last look at the pastry before putting it down. "Why are you being so… nice to me?"

     The Faerie Queen looked momentarily stunned. "Why shouldn't I?" she countered.

     The Xweetok felt a familiar stab of fury run through her. Fyora's avoidance was as still insufferable. "Please, just tell me."

     She hesitated. "Xandra… this isn't a ruse. I just wanted to do something nice for you."

      Xandra paused. The hate ebbed away, and she wished for it back. Instead, an aching pain took its place. "Why did you free me?"

     Silence hung in the room. And as it grew, so did the pain.

     "You know what I did!" She clenched her fists, but it didn't stop the shaking. "I destroyed your home. I almost- I could've-"

     Fyora put a hand on the small Xweetok's shoulder. "But you're sorry."

     Xandra stared at her old mentor's face, years of resentment and guilt bubbling up. She shoved away her touch and turned away. "What do you want with me?"

     The Faerie Queen donned a strange, small smile, drawing away. "Even now, when I see your face, I see the face of that little girl."

     Pink eyes looked on, suddenly reproachful. "You were so young, bright… exceedingly kind…" she laughed weakly. "I should've told you the truth, that day when you asked."

     Xandra remembered the day so clearly. The frustration of unravelling riddles lying right in front of her and variables that made no sense. After years of pleading every faerie for an answer, to do something, anything. Disaster after disaster, Neopia fell apart while its saviours watched above it all. It left her with one last, desperate question: "What do the faeries even do for Neopia?!"

     Towing a broken pedestal and a broken heart, it was the last shred of proof that the faeries would never change.

     "I should've trusted you." Fyora shook her head, fists clenched. "And then you went away, and I knew something was wrong, I knew-" Her voice wavered, "but I didn't do anything." The tremors turned into sobs. Her vindictive habit crowed with victory. Fyora – perfect Fyora, who ignored her pleas with false promises and false hope, who she loved so much – was defeated.

     A sharp intake of air. Her body had forgotten to breathe again. Xandra took a step forward. Like this, Fyora looked so small, so different.

     "I was your teacher, and I taught you hate." The faerie's eyes met the Xweetok's, a silent understanding passing through them. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

      Xandra couldn't feel her lips moving. "So that's why. You're guilty." The accusation didn't stem from anger, but sinking, numbing acceptance.

     "Xandra…" Fyora childishly put a knuckle to her eye, further smudging a mixture of pink eyeshadow and eyeliner. "I'm guilty, but it's not the reason I freed you."

     Sunlight drifted into the room, like opening a curtain. Xandra watched it with a detached fascination. It came in streams, highlighting the sheen of Fyora's tears, casting shadows on her mascara smeared eyelashes.

     "I want to know the truth." The words were an instinctive reflex she had forgotten. For so long, the guilt stifled everything, robbing her anger, but also her will.

     The Faerie Queen sniffled, wiping her face. "Are you sure?"

     She didn't know if she wanted any truths anymore. It would be easier, much easier, to live removed from the world, looking on from afar, never hurting it again. But it could hardly be called a life. "Yes, I'm sure."

     ***

     "Don't let go of my hand."

     Fyora's hushed command made Xandra feel like a child again. Still, she held on, mostly out of necessity. The faerie's magic cloaked her with invisibility but being unable to see her own feet made keeping balance an increasing challenge.

     The path trailed off to a grassy uphill, to uneven rock. Xandra clung on to keep up with the faerie's pace and keep stability on legs that were still unaccustomed to movement. Soon they reached a cliffside, and Fyora turned away towards clustered caverns. Aquamarine waters flowed lazily, illuminating a bed of gold Neopoints resting at their bottom. Vines clung to the walls.

     In the darkness, the only light was the Faerie Queen's sceptre, casting a ghostly pink tint over symbols carved around the openings of stone. Xandra traced a paw over it, recognizing the letters of an ancient faerie language. The very same imprinted around her artefact.

     Fyora must've heard her gasp, because she murmured, "these tunnels are ancient, much older than me. They were always underground, but the crash uncovered them to the public."

     They continued, the Xweetok's clumsy steps echoing. Lead through twists with no discernable direction, dread began to churn inside her, but with it, a curiosity she thought had died.

     The pair came to a dead end, water illuminating the vines with an ethereal glow. Fyora raised her sceptre, and a ring of language lit with a pink glow. Then, with a moment of hesitation, she tugged them through.

     Xandra took a sharp breath. Inside was a massive sphere of magic, the size of a cottage. It filled the wide cave with a warm, purplish glow.

     Fyora dropped her now visible paw. "This is the barrier spell. The heart of Faerieland."

     The heart pulsed rhythmically and emitted sparks, as if it was alive. Small, almost translucent wisps of light flew to the heart like moths to flame Xandra fought the urge to reach out a paw to touch one, like a child catching snowflakes.

     "This is the magic that keeps the wraiths at bay. It is what keeps Neopia from consuming itself."

     "I…" The speckled Xweetok gazed further into the cave, the corners where the light couldn't reach. The darkness swallowed them all. "How?"

     Fyora smiled, in hushed excitement. "Look at yourself." Xandra raised an arm experimentally, watching the trail tinted green magic, emitting from her and towards the heart. "It's made from faerie magic, but it's so much more."

     "I thought-" Xandra abruptly brought her arm back and clutched her necklace. "I can't use magic. What is it doing?"

     Fyora smile grew wider. "That is the magic of your bonds with faeries, Xandra. This… mystical bond, it produces this energy that fuels the spell, and keeps the wraiths out of our reality."

     Xandra drew back, and in the increasing darkness, she realized how much she was glowing. It flitted off her body, like smoke away from fire. "Bonds…" she murmured, the words not registering upon her lips.

     "It's the reason why faeries give out quests. It's the reason why…" Fyora swallowed, suddenly hesitant. "It's the reason why bottled faeries still exist. There's a magic created, when pets and faeries work together, help one another. Without it, the barrier would collapse."

     "I don't understand." Xandra wanted to brush the magic off her skin, like it was a layer of dust.

     "What do you mean?"

     The Xweetok teared her gaze away, but it was seared into her corneas. "How does this stop the wraiths?"

     "I don't know." The truth rang out, unfurling its wings and soaring. But Xandra didn't feel the elation of flight. Instead, a dread crashed over her. "My theory is that the positive energy counteracts the wraiths. They're unable to exist. Yet…" Fyora trailed off, uncertain.

     Xandra stared at the barrier spell, watching the erratic fluctuating deepening and lightening of the hue. The heart of Faerieland beat frantically trying to keep pace against an invisible threat, with pulsing arrhythmias and violent sparks.

     "It's dying."

     Fyora's eyes widened and looked away from her student. "Yes," she admitted, voice small. "Ever since the crash, the magic from the bonds is not the same. We- faeries have been using our magic to keep the world from being flooded with darkness, but it's not enough!" She sighed and met the Xweetok's eyes once more. "Wraiths have been coming back, and the stronger they grow, the more magic we need. But…"

     Xandra stared at Fyora, looking for an answer. But it sat right in front of her, crackling with life.

     "This is my fault." The words reverberated in her skull.

      "No!" The faerie reached out to the Xweetok but stopped herself. "It isn't your fault."

      "Yes, it is." Xandra's voice quavered, and she turned away. She felt fury course through her, dizzying and familiar. "Stupid…" she groaned to herself.

      "I…" Fyora trailed off, kneeling down to meet Xandra's eyes. "You can't blame yourself. You didn't know."

      "No!" Xandra finally looked Fyora fully in the eyes, sending tears cascading to the ground. "I was so… stupid!" She drew her paws to her face. "Back then, I thought I could change everything, start over and create something good. But I became a monster - I hurt everyone, and everyone who ever loved me. I destroyed my home… I almost destroyed the world…" She laughed, the derisive joyless sound echoing around them. "And I was stupid enough to think I was right!"

     Her mirth descended to loud, choking sobs. "…And you would think I learned something, being a statue." Her smiled wobbled. "I tried so hard to convince myself that I was right, but when I couldn't anymore, I had nothing left. I wanted to get out… to make things right. That's all I thought about. But I can't." She wiped her eyes furiously, swatting the tears away. "I'm still stupid. I keep thinking that if I can find a way to make things right, then I could make up for what I did. But I can't."

     "Xandra…" Fyora's eyes were wide, shining in the low light with her own tears. The Xweetok looked away in shame.

     "It's like I'm a ghost. The world has moved on without me – and it should." She shook her head. "I'm not needed here anymore. All I am is a painful reminder."

     Fyora's gazed at to the floor, and Xandra absentmindedly thought that she disappointed her. But the idea was preposterous – she was always disappointed in her.

     When the faerie looked up, her tears gone. Instead, in her eyes shone with a steely glint. "If you really think all you are is a reminder, then you're right. You haven't learned a thing."

     She grabbed the Xweetok's shoulder with a ferocity. "You're right. You are stupid. You hurt a lot people, and I miss my home." She pulled her closer, until Xandra was buried in the Faerie Queen's shoulder, being tickled by lilac hair.

     "But if you really think there's nothing you can do, then you need to look harder. No, you can't put Faerieland back in the sky. No, you can't erase the pain you caused. But you can do something." Her grip softened, but Xandra didn't push her away. "There was a time before any of this."

     "I'm not the same." Xandra tried to choke back a sob. "I can't go back."

     "You won't need to."

     The speckled Xweetok stilled, mulling over the words over and over. She wanted to believe it. But time was broken – she didn't belong in this world. She couldn't see it without thinking of what was. The thought reverberated, again and again. Fyora gently cradled her head, and suddenly, everything broken came spilling out. She cried into Fyora while she stroked her hair, letting the racking sobs consume her. They stayed like that for a while, the dim light of the barrier flickering upon them both.

     "I still hate you." Xandra, her arms wrapped around the faerie, looked up. "I know it's not right, but I've hated you for so long, I'm not sure how to stop.

     To her surprise, Fyora chuckled. "That sounds just like you." She shook her head a bit, smile growing. "Well, you'll have to learn to tolerate me. I am your parole officer, after all."

     "You're a terrible parole officer," Xandra dead-panned. Slowly, she also began to snicker, and together, their laughs echoed through the Faerie Caverns.

     The End.