How to Be a Fire Faerie: Part Two

     The words coursed through my brain like wildfire.

      That was it. I wasn't a Kougra. I was a fire faerie. Something - some ancient and powerful magic - had happened in that tunnel, something had changed me, something had happened.

     And now I was no longer Simma Starclaw, pretty but powerless striped Kougra of Mystery Island.

     I was Simma Starclaw, fire faerie, magical being of power and fiery strength.

     It took me a moment to get over the shock. Actually, it took me about three weeks, but up there in the castle on that fateful day, I managed to compose myself.

     I regained some of my dignity, and said politely, "What?"

     Fyora looked at me. "You are not a Kougra," she said gently. "I assume you've been having a very vivid dream. I don't know how you managed to get into the Hidden Tower, as none of the entrances I know are open, but you are in here nonetheless. And unless you are wearing some powerful disguise, you are most definitely a fire faerie."

     "But - but -" I whimpered, "I was a Kougra a minute ago - on Mystery Island - I went through a door - and it was all dark - and then it was light - and my head hurt -"

     "Ah..." breathed Fyora, sounding like someone exhaling after having a long drink. "Ah... I see..."

     "What is it, your majesty?" asked Rysta, who was sitting on a red velvet cushion in a window seat.

     "Our friend Simma Starclaw here has fallen - well, I suppose we could say fallen foul - of the ancient spell on a certain cliff on Mystery Island," Fyora replied.

     "What spell?" I barked. It suddenly seemed essential that I knew this.

     "Well," Fyora said slowly, her eyes half closed, "hundreds of thousands of years ago, there was a darkness faerie called Syntai. She spent many years in Neopia, and she saw so much suffering and misery in the places she went to that she decided to lay down a spell on Mystery Island - which was at that time uninhabited except for several packs of savage wild Kougras. She made a spell so that if ever a creature was mistreated or abandoned or neglected, it would see a door. And that door would turn it into a random type of faerie; if it went through, that is. To this date you are the only one who was brave enough to enter."

     I growled angrily at my own stupidity - or at least, I tried to growl. All that came out was a sort of weird cough. What an idiot I was! Just deciding to go through some magical door I knew nothing about! Seriously, how dumb can you get?

     Mistreated... hmm, that was me for sure. Maybe... just maybe... maybe that door was a good thing. I did think I could have swapped my family for another one, didn't I? At least now, whatever happened to me, I wouldn't have to make drinks for a load of fat, lazy and bossy Kougras. And now - although I didn't even know how to walk in this freakish new body - I could fly! And make fire from my bare hands!

     Both the faeries were staring at me. I blushed awkwardly, and searched my brain for something relevant to say. "Er - so, this is the Hidden Tower, is it?" I asked no one in particular.

     I looked around. I was sitting on a thick, red plush carpet, with a four-inch pile. There were a few window seats around the room, all with large velvet cushions, there was beautiful furniture around the room, and in small gold niches around the grey stone walls were beautiful amulets, ornate swords and spears; the whole room would have cost more than my old Neohome all put together.

     Before anyone could answer, my stomach gave an enormous rumble, and I swooned as waves of pain told me my head was throbbing more that ever.

     "You're not in a good way," Fyora said. "Let's get you to the palace. Up you get."

     I stood up, but standing like a Kougra didn't work - my back legs were much longer than my front ones and it strained my back horribly.

     I sat down again. Then I decided to try standing how Fyora and Rysta were standing. I grabbed hold of a large golden chair, and hoisted myself upright.

     Slowly... tentatively... I gingerly let go of the chair, and wobbled on my hind legs for a second before seizing the chair again.

     The next time, I tried placing my legs quite wide apart. I managed to remain upright - just.

     I carefully placed one leg in front of me... then another... and then, wobbling like a baby taking its first steps, I fell with a clunk onto the soft carpet.

     It was lucky I had arrived somewhere with a nice soft fluffy carpet, I thought ruefully, or I would have a lot more bruises now.

     "Uh, I might be, sort of able to walk, y- your majesty," I stammered at Fyora, remembering how rude I had been to the faerie queen and deciding to be properly courteous.

     "Don't worry, Rysta and I can support you." Fyora smiled back.

     I stood up, with the aid of my trusty golden chair, then put an arm around Fyora and Rysta's back, avoiding their wings.

     We walked slowly out of the room, down a very long, very tricky spiral staircase, and out of a door into a courtyard. I looked over my shoulder as we left the door, and gawped as I saw it melt away into the ivy-covered wall.

     The faeries led me through the courtyard into a huge, luxurious room. There was an enormous bed, but, unlike any bed I had ever seen, it was circle-shaped. There were about three layers of sheets, with a large red quilt on top, a tall bed head made of some kind of dark wood, and lots of comfy-looking orange pillows scattered everywhere.

     There was a beautiful arched window, with an orange-painted frame, and a comfy-looking plush seat beneath it. The floor was coated in a soft, thick orange carpet, and a tall, flame-shaped bookcase, made of the same wood as the bed head, filled with hundreds - or so it seemed to me - of books.

     A door led off to a bathroom - I could see a deep bath and a sink shaped like a shell - but before I could see more, Fyora and Rysta steered me onto the bed. I collapsed, realising how exhausted I really was.

     I heard Fyora saying, "You should have a nap. I'll have some food brought up to you, and I'll send some healers up to deal with your head - you must have bumped it when you fell and hit the floor."

     I hardly had time to mutter "thanks" before my eyelids drooped closed and I was instantly asleep.

     I woke up later - I wasn't sure what time it was, but it was dark outside and someone had set a lamp burning next to the window.

      The first thing I noticed was that my head felt much better - those healers, whoever they were, had done a good job.

     There was a tray next to my bed with several mouth-watering dishes on it - a pile of faerie pancakes, several fruits that I recognised as being fresh from last month's Gadgadsbogen, and a large green pepper omelette - my favourite kind. It would have been hard to even see this meal in my old house. All I ever got were scraps. I grinned as I stuck my head into the plate and chomped into a beautifully light and fluffy pancake. This whole thing wasn't actually working out that badly.

     **~**~**~**

     I learnt to walk confidently in four days. It took me six days, and a lot of bruises, to learn to run, hop and skip, and two days to learn to eat using a knife and fork, instead of sticking my face into the food - I discovered that this was a bad idea when I tasted my first soup. After that I could concentrate on proper faerie things.

     Fyora was being amazingly kind. She let me stay in the luxurious bedroom for as long as I wanted, no charge. I offered to do washing up and cooking for her - I've certainly had a lot of practice - but she refused, saying I had to learn to be a faerie first.

     My wings were... strange. They got in the way if I decided to sleep on my back, and I couldn't really get used to them for ages. I had lost my tail, so I supposed having wings kind of made up for it. I kept trying to wiggle my tail, and discovering it wasn't there. Doing this got me some pretty strange looks in public.

     I learnt to move my wings up, down, and flap them, like I could move my hands, but not to fly - yet, at least.

     I still kept trying to growl when I was angry - it was instinctive, and a friendly air faerie I met at dinner once offered to take me to the healing springs. Apparently I sounded like I had a very bad cough.

     Two weeks after I'd arrived, Fyora approached me at dinner and said, "I've talked to one of my advisors, the fire faerie Blaze. She's agreed to give you lessons in flying and magic until you are adept. Your lessons will start tomorrow, when the sun reaches it's highest point, in the fire courtyard of the palace." She smiled at me.

     "It's time for you to learn how to be a faerie," she said.

To be continued...