“Feather fluff!”

The red-haired figure glared at the chamber’s single window. A snapping sound, accompanying odd flashes of light, came from the opening. After a few brief moments the sparks fizzled out, and the sound disappeared with them. Groaning in frustration, the diminutive female draped herself across the window sill, allowing her arms to hang over the edge.

“Why won’t it work?”

With eyes the colour of pale jade, the figure gazed out at the world beyond her place of entrapment. Towering pine and spruce, sturdy oak, gossamer willow, pale-barked aspen, and all assortment of other trees and vegetation filled the landscape within her range of vision. A slight gap in the endless treetops revealed the winding path of the Síran River, which flowed through the valley of the same name. In the distance, mountains far grander than the ones in which the female dwelled were capped with snow.

Releasing a heavy sigh, the lavender-clad figure moved away from the window. She swept her hand through several locks of bead- and feather-adorned hair. With forlorn expression, she moved across the richly decorated chamber.

Shelves lined a majority of the walls, books filling most of them. Interspersed with the countless volumes of literature were odd trinkets from distant lands, Seer Stones, sketch books accompanied by various art supplies, small wood figures in the likeness of an assortment of creatures, and even an old, abandoned bird’s nest. From the beams near the heights of the round-ish chamber hung all manner of plant life. A moss of rich green hues clung to the hickory joists, cascading from them with wisteria, fuchsia, and sweet alyssum blossoms. Several clusters of dried and drying herbs also hung from the support beams.

The youth moved past several delicate pedestals topped with as many candles as each perch would hold. The flames flickered as she swept past the elegant stands, nearing the dressing table. Issuing forth another sigh, she dropped herself upon the elaborate bench. Resting her chin in her hands, the female studied her reflection in the looking glass.

She was fair of both complexion and feature. The hunger and longing she felt deep within her heart seemed to radiate from her eyes. Behind, and extending above her fiery tresses, the female watched the gentle movement of her gossamer wings.

“That’s right,” she proclaimed, while striking the palm of her hand upon the vanity. “I am Larrenelia, daughter of Rivanlorr and Oremendelia, princess of Fae F’erren, the kingdom presiding over the Realm of the Fae. I shan’t be bested!”

With renewed determination, Larrenelia stood and returned to the window. She knelt down and scooped up the book she had dropped in her earlier frustration. Dusting it off with care, the faerie princess apologized to the volume, and opened it to the page she needed.

“Right, then; shall we have another go at this?”

Larrenelia inhaled, gathering her thoughts and focusing her attention on the task she had set for herself. The princess considered the desire of her heart, recalling the countless tales of the Realm of the Morde. Allowing these recollections and longings to fuel her, the young faerie lifted her right hand, holding it parallel to the window. She then began reciting the words scrawled within the book.

“Illen illen Morde den Raem, fille selven Fae den Raem. Baearnem billedt deeran vindar nem.”

Following the instruction of the enchanted text, Larrenelia lifted her hand to touch the top, base, and each side of the window’s opening. With heightened resolve, the princess carefully placed the book upon the floor, and performed the final portion of the incantation. Placing the tips of her fingers at the center of the windowsill, she stretched each hand outward and up, until her fingertips brushed against the sides of the window. She continued moving her hands upward, gradually drawing them closer, until she brought them together at the window’s highest point. The red-haired faerie brought her palms together, dropping her hands until they were centered before her torso. At last, Larrenelia extended her palms outward, toward the opening in the stone wall.

As she reached for the open space beyond her window, the faerie’s hands came in contact with an unseen surface. The princess blinked in surprise and fought the urge to snatch her hands away from the unusual sensation.

It reminded Larrenelia of the smoothness of her looking glass, though it lacked the strict solidity of the reflective article. A golden light shimmered, starting from her hands, and expanded to fill the entire window. Once the radiance had reached the edges of the opening, it faded. The ethereal pane seemed to soften and – with a most peculiar fluttering sort of feeling – it settled into a consistency like that of spider’s webs.

The elated faerie barely dared to breath, afraid that, by some chance, even her smallest exhale would buffet the unseen curtain into nonexistence. With caution, she drew her hands away from the window, clutching them near her chest.

Larrenelia leaned close to the window, amazed at how well-camouflaged the portal was.

“How remarkable. There remains not even the slightest trace of it.”

With trepidation, the princess extended one of her hands. After taking a shaky breath, and with all manner of caution, she inserted her appendage into the unseen portal. A silky, though slightly sticky, sensation skirted across her hand and up her arm. Having reached into the portal up to her elbow, Larrenelia waited to feel something that would give her a clue as to what the other side held. Feeling nothing, she waved her hand about.

It was a rather peculiar experience to the faerie’s thinking. She could not see the portion of her arm that was within the portal, and yet she could feel that she was moving it about the opening. While her fingers never brushed against anything on the other side, Larrenelia continued to feel the webby curtain gliding across, and partially clinging to, her hand and arm.

“Larrenelia!”

Startled, the princess snatched her hand out of the portal, and closed the shutters to the window with haste. Heart pounding in her chest, the red-haired faerie retrieved the book from its place upon the floor and dashed to a section of shelving. With no undue amount of panic, she tucked the volume behind several other books of a more studious nature and took three leaping strides to her dressing table. Candles flickered at her passing.

Larrenelia had barely taken hold of her brush and began running it through her curled locks when the door to her chamber was nigh flung open.

“Gracious, child! Have you forgotten what day it is? Are you still not ready?”

Portraying a calm she was far from feeling, the princess turned to glance at her visitor.

“Verrenalla, dearest, I have no desire to primp and preen for such loathsome ‘guests’ as the aristocracy of the Maedhrin Kingdom.”

“Princess, it is the desire of your father, the king, to see our kingdoms united. Would you deny him that dream?”

“Pray, tell, how could I possible have any influence on such a matter. I’m sure King Fentr would not even notice, were I to not attend this frivolous reception.”

Verrenalla swept toward the princess – on her way reaching for a scroll that had been left upon the writing desk. The governess gently batted at Larrenelia with the rolled parchment.

“Enough of this rebellious talk, impertinent waif. I mightn’t be as ‘high-and-mighty’ as you, but I’ve been looking after you since before you sprouted your wings. Listen to me and do as your father and mother wish. Dress well, behave like the princess you are, and for the love of all that is Fae, do not offend our guests.”

“Very well, sweet Verrenalla. I shall do as you bid me.”

The governess’s face softened as she beamed in satisfaction at her handiwork.

“Quite right, child; it would not do to ruin these well-laid plans.”

“Might I beseech thee to help me dress. I haven’t a clue what to wear.”

Larrenelia barely hid the grin that threatened to spread across her face at Verrenalla’s look of triumph. The princess had long ago learned how to cajole the impressionable governess. Feminine frippery, grand events, and a desire to be needed were a few of the elder faerie’s weaknesses.

The governess made quick work of the choosing of the gown, the dressing of the princess, and the tidying of Larrenelia’s unruly tresses. The auburn-haired faerie was a flurry of action, her turquois-hued wings fluttering behind her as she worked. In short order, Larrenelia was properly clothed and tidied for the affairs of the evening.

Dressed in a forest-green gown with intricate beadwork along the corseted bodice, Larrenelia certainly looked the part of faerie princess. Verrenalla had removed the assortment of braids, beads, and feathers from the princess’s hair, and had wound it into an updo. The untidy curls had been swept back and up and in, allowing full view of Larrenelia’s heart-shaped face. Instead of the natural hair adornments that the young faerie so preferred, her locks were now bedecked in elegant pearls and delicate, gold chain.

“‘Tis a shame your wings are so plain.” Verrenalla sighed in distress. Picking up a small jar, the elder faerie dusted Larrenelia’s wings with the powder it contained.

Where once she had wings lacking in all colour, now the princess beheld wings in a pearlescent pink hue. Sighing, the bejeweled faerie started for the door to her chamber. Before she opened the door, her caretaker drew near.

“You’re in quite a hurry to join in the revelries, now. But you nearly forgot the final additions.”

Verrenalla placed an elaborate pair of dancing slippers at the princess’s feet. When Larrenelia had stepped into the beaded footwear, the auburn-haired faerie clasped a regal necklace of pearls and emeralds about the impatient female’s neck. When this was done, the green-clad faerie was spritzed with a special liquid that smelled heavily of florals.

“Now, you are ready. Hurry, princess; you’ll not want to miss a single moment.”

I should dearly love to miss the entire, dreadful thing.

Masking her dismay with a charming smile, Larrenelia moved down the hall and descended several flights of stairs. Her stomach churned in dread of what she must soon face. Her thoughts were still with her newest achievement; that of the invisible portal. She longed to explore the world beyond the enchanted curtain. Instead, she was to play congenial host to the kingdom that had long been an enemy to her beloved Fae F’erren. Precisely how her father intended to woo the Maedhrin Kingdom into an agreeable relationship with his lighthearted subjects, Larrenelia did not know; but she felt certain such a day would not come for some time, if indeed at all.

Lilting music played in the ballroom, and Larrenelia slowed her pace as she drew near. She did this more to prolong her absence from the revelries than to appear poised upon her entry. At last, she neared one of several sets of doors to the large hall. Taking a deep breath, the princess crossed the threshold and entered her nightmare.