The prompt for today’s story is courtesy of
:Stretch: Write that idea about the faerie battle.
Yellow started when she heard the silver trumpets sounding the alarm. She snatched her wand and hurried out of her room, wings buzzing. She hadn’t even left the cloisters before Blue blocked her path. “Now, now,” she said patiently. “I know you’re anxious with your new spells and all, but I think you may have misunderstood the situation here.”
“But that’s the alarm!” Yellow said, practically bouncing off her feet in excitement. “All wings on deck!”
“No, dear,” Blue said, giving Yellow’s shoulder a kindly pat. “I’m afraid those aren’t our trumpets.”
“Don’t use ‘em anyway, nasty things,” grumbled Magenta.
“Quite right,” said Blue, giving Magenta a stern look meant to calm her down so as not to further wind up Yellow. “We employ bells for communication.”
“But…” Yellow said, confused. “Then who’s blowing the trumpets?”
“Oh, dear," Blue sighed. “That would be the faeries. They’re having a war again, dear little things.”
Yellow blinked. “We’re the fairies, aren’t we?”
“No, dear, we’re fairies. They’re faeries.”
“Oh,” Yellow said. “So, they’re fairies.”
“No, they’re faeries,” Blue said, trying to stay patient.
“That’s what I said,” replied Yellow.
“No,” Blue said, “we are fairies. They are faeries.”
“But-”
“Oh, never mind!” Blue said, finally having had enough. “You’re not getting involved, and that’s that! Now go to your room!”
Yellow fled before Blue’s wrath in tears. Blue retired to her own room, abashed and upset, and wishing that she’d never allowed the Fair Folk use of their trumpets in the first place. Neither of them noticed that Magenta had gone.
The forces of Galvereon stood arrayed in all their banners, swords high. Across the field of battle, they could see the armies of the unspeakable Dread Lord, bane of the Fae. Galvereon’s hands tightened on the hilt of his sword.
Then a sudden magenta thunderbolt split the sky. “THAT IS ENOUGH!” a tremendous voice boomed. A mighty hand reached down from above and seized the Dread Lord, shaking him like a rag doll; another hand reached down and scooped up Galvereon in his elfin armor. He couldn’t help a squeak of dismay as the hand lifted him upwards.
“BOTH OF YOU, ALL OF YOU, STOP IT! THIS INSTANT!” thundered the voice. The hands clenched tighter around Galvereon and the Dread Lord (who at that moment was looking less dread and more sickly). “YOU UNDERSTAND ME?”
“Yes, yes, we understand!” Galvereon said. The Dread Lord hissed something that sounded like a yes.
“FINE,” said the voice. The hands set Galvereon and the Dread Lord down. They noticed that everyone else of the Fair Folk had fallen to their faces. "BUT IF YOU START ANY MORE WARS, I’ll COME BACK!”
In a magenta flash, she was gone. Galvereon and the Somewhat Less Dread Lord looked aghast at each other. Magenta, back in the cloisters, giggled to herself. She couldn’t wait to tell Yellow about this.
LOVE this. Fun and hilarious. Thanks for writing your own spin on this!