Blue

When I awoke the next morning, Herman (surprise, surprise) was already up. Stream of morning light filtered into the room from the agape windows, lighting its interior with a cheerful golden hue—the complete opposite to the frown on Herman’s clouded face. 

He didn’t seem to notice even when I entered the room with a yawn. It was only when the floorboard creaked under my weight that he hastily grabbed his hovering pen and tucked the parchments away. 

He turned up to smile at me, the dark circles under his hooded eyes and the overgrown state of his stubbles hinted that he hadn’t been sleeping at all.

Normally he would be out cold after completing an assignment. The Reader’s arrival must have invoked his too curious side. Otherwise, there would be no need for him to stay awake throughout the night. Ella’s Tale was pretty much done. All we needed now were the wedding bells and The End. 

I eyed the corner of the parchments peeking out from his satchel but said nothing and turned to the cabinet filled with dry flower petals instead. It’s nothing new, really. Amending pages after an assignment was a norm, though letting his pen write on its own was a first. He never did let it do as it pleased. 

“Did your best mate note any of your embarrassing secrets?” I commented casually, my back to him as I browsed through our collection of colourful glass jars. “Violet or rose?” 

“Violet,” he said and set his leather satchel aside before taking the blue jar from me. “It didn’t write anything about me, specifically. But it’s been acting…strange since yesterday.” 

If I get to vote, the enchanted pen has never been normal. Unpredictable yes, untamed maybe, but never normal. 

Before I could say anything though, Herman’s prolonged sigh cut me short. He ran a hand through his dark hair, made a mess out of his already-wild strands. “Never mind that. Where’s the Reader?”

“Perfect Aurora material,” I tipped my head to the cluster of joined branches directly above my room. “Apparently Readers aren’t morning creatures though they do seem to dream a lot. I listened to him talk in his sleep the whole night. Something about poison apples and blue wings—do you think I look like the Evil Queen?”

Herman choked on a petal and coughed so hard, Jayden Forst stirred in the little space that was usually Peter’s. His arm dangled dangerously beside the makeshift ladder of coarse ropes. One can only hope his reflexes were good enough for him to land unscathed.  

“I never thought Readers groan like bears in the morning.” I squinted my eyes in an attempt to stare across the height, wondering if he had indeed morphed into a bear but fae moms weren’t born with sight as good as the elves’. 

“Celastrina Blue…” Herman scolded, “…how many times did I tell you, no talks about the queen during meals?” —or something along the line. It was hard to tell with his muffled words, speaking while choking on the petals in mouth. 

“Sorry,” I muttered under my breath with a half apologetic grin. It had been so long since his solo assignment for Snow White, I almost forgot about his problem with apples and queens. 

I wasn’t beside him to witness it all but it seemed that the Queen’s evil deeds were quite traumatic to him. At one point, he even protested against binding the original copy and enshrine it in its rightful shelf in the Library of Tales, saying that it isn’t suitable to be a fairy tale no matter how he twisted it. 

Nothing I did or said could coax the past out of him. If only I wasn’t tasked to persuade the dwarves to take the damsel in at the time, I would’ve mingled in with him into the castle as his squire or something. We’ll see who’ll win then, the Evil Queen or a pissed fae mom.

“Morning,” Jayden Forst stretched into a yawn while rubbing his half-opened eyes. Thanks the Star, he missed Herman’s cabinet of enchanted ink by a hair’s breadth. My heart kicked up a few notches that split second and threatened to burst out of my chest at the mere thought of our already-cramped cottage filled with those unpredictable dark liquid. 

The last thing we need will be having our only resting place coming alive and spit us out of its body before growing limbs and running off on its own adventure. One moving castle in the entire Taledom was enough, we didn’t need another in the parade.

“Morning,” Herman managed around another series of coughs before finally settling with a satisfied sigh. “Did you have a pleasant sleep last night?”

Jayden Forst blinked for several seconds before flashing us both a bright boyish grin worthy of a Main’s name. “Finding myself here is the most pleasant, albeit strange, dream ever.” 

It still amazes me how calm he was in taking everything in stride. Even as a magic wielder myself, I found it all impossible to believe.

Unlike the Mains involved in Tales, Authors and fae moms were given directions from HQ where the Star’s messages were read. Surprises like this never happen to us because we already knew what was going to happen to a Tale before it actually happened. 

But this time, there was no sign, not even a hint of what was going on. For all we know, if the Star wasn’t involved in Jayden Forst’s Tale, something else was. And whatever it was, it couldn’t be good.

I eyed the cuckoo clock on the wall. Eight thirty in the morning. 

The clock has always been a symbol of a sweet gesture from Geppetto, a reminder of the little boy that now ran free in his workshop. But today, it appeared to be an evil being bent on shortening the time to our impending doom. 

Unease churned in the pit of my stomach. If it was up to me, we would be on the way to the Library of Tales and halfway through Dwarf’s Village by now instead of leisurely nibbling on flower petals and sipping morning dew. 

“Come and join us. You’ll need the energy before we set out for the library.” I gestured to the glass jars. Surely there would at least be one he will like.

Jayden Forst’s face was nothing short of puzzled. He stared at the glass jars as if the petals inside didn’t appear edible. Right. I forgot, Readers are mortals too. Mortals didn’t know flowers could be eaten. No wonder he’s so pale. The boy had got no flower pigments in him!

“You don’t eat petals in Pandora?” 

“We do,” he answered right away, “but it’s not common. They usually use them as décor in Chinese restaurants though.” He took the handful of violet Herman handed him and put them in his mouth. 

“What are you—?” I grabbed a glass of morning dew off the windowsill—a tad too late. His face had turned blue. Gurgling, Jayden Forst downed its content in a single gulp. He wasn’t lying when he said he had never eaten a petal. Nobody sane would eat petals that way.

“That was just…wicked.” Jayden Forst breathed after several heartbeats. His mismatched word and look of bewilderment baffled me yet again but earned a hearty laugh from Herman. He leapt to his feet and looped an arm around Jayden Forst as if they were brothers separated at birth finally reunited.

“I am getting the feeling that we will get along great!” Herman flashed his pearl whites which Jayden Forst returned with one of his own.

Of course you would. 

Might be because Readers and Authors were said to be a match blessed by the Star—or because they are both males. I am tilting more towards the latter. Males are the hardest-to-understand creatures in the whole of Taledom, right next to Rumpelstiltskin (who also happened to be male).

“Please, it’s troublesome enough if I have a dead Author in the house, I don’t need another joining him in his casket.” I sighed and passed Jayden Forst my untouched glass of morning dew. “Preserved petals are meant to be taken one at a time, together with a mouthful of water or its taste will be too strong.”

Herman made himself useful and demonstrated as I explained. Much to my relief, understanding finally dawned on the Reader’s face. At least now we can be assured Jayden Forst’s Tale wouldn’t end before it begins. How tragic would it be to finally have a Tale about a Reader, only to have it end with him dead from choking on flower petals?

While I busied myself collecting another jug of morning dew and gathering berries from branches that made the roof to our cottage, the two continued their discussion from the previous night. In seconds, they efficiently progressed from introduction on both worlds (like how the weather’s colder in Taledom than in Pandora) to more personal matters.

“Trust me, Blue may not look the part as the fairy godmother but once we’re off duty, ‘Poof!’, she turns into an oldie who’s all comfort and no beauty. Role model material!” Herman laughed, a little too loud for me to ignore in the small space of our home.

If my hands weren’t full in a precarious attempt to balance the jug and basket, I would have casted a curse that makes his body itch the whole day. 

Jayden Forst laughed with him in a chorus. “Sounds like fairy godmother alright.”

On second thought, maybe I should just shower berry juice on both of them. It wouldn’t itch for now but when the ants and squirrels come, I am sure it is a plan as evil as any. Plus the stain’s hard to wash off. Even the Evil Queen isn’t capable of such evilness since she doesn’t do her own laundry. 

But Herman does.

“You are making that face on purpose because you know it creeps me out right?” Herman’s sarcasm cut through my seconds of evil and propelled me back to reality.

“Yes, and just so you know, I was planning to lace the berries with the deadliest poison.” 

Jayden Forst turned up to stare at me halfway picking up a blueberry from the basket. I cleared my throat and added, “But I can’t since we have a guest today. So count yourself lucky.”

The look of relief that crossed Jayden Forst’s face was almost hilarious if he wasn’t a funny fellow to begin with. 

Watching his expressions every time we introduce him to anything new was more amusing than watching Merlin do one of his elaborated transforming spells (and borrowing Jayden Forst’s word, Merlin’s spells are wicked).

“Nonsense. You know you love your Author snarky instead of old and cranky,” Herman sneered as I plopped down on the wooden stool across from him. Jayden Forst still looked like a bunch of nerves beside me. “Sides, you wouldn’t be complete without me.” 

I rolled my eyes. There’s the word wizardry again. 

Fae-moms and Authors were born at the same time and partnered for all eternity. No choice on the matter, as were all Star-concerned matters. But the way he put it made Jayden Forst’s brows shoot to his hairline the way he did when he first saw our cottage of trees. 

I kicked Herman from under the table—which he evaded and continued talking to Jayden Forst with a straight face. 

Darn the Author and his reflexes.

“On second thought, maybe I should drug an apple next time,” I said, popping a raspberry into my mouth, giving Jayden Forst the final reassurance he needed that the berries were safe. Whatever did they teach Readers about fae moms in Pandora?

“Anything but apples, thank you very much.” Herman smiled, though his face turned a tad greener like, well, an apple. He raised both hands in defeat before slapping them down on his thighs, taking an abrupt turn in the subject. “Now, I hate to be the one to break this but we need a plan to get into the Library of Tales.”

Herman didn’t look at either of us as he grabbed another petal from the container, an attempt to make the matter sound less serious than it actually was. It was reassuring to know I wasn’t the only one who was nervous about breaking into the Library of Tales without clearance from HQ. 

“Eruca’s an itch you can’t scratch when it comes down to it,” Herman continued, still skirting around the bigger problem. 

“Who’s Eruca?” Jayden Forst asked, not quite as worried as he took a sip out of his glass. Ignorance is real bliss. 

“The guardian assigned to the Library of Tales. I am sure you would have read about him somewhere,” I answered briefly and reached around to pour more morning dew into his glass. He took another long sip and pondered on the name. The silence stretched on. 

“Just leave the worm to me,” I said then, turning to Herman.

Jayden Forst almost made a fountain of morning dew as he turned abruptly to stare at me. I returned his stare with a what-is-it face. He shook his head, nothing. The boy could easily overtake Rumpelstiltskin in the oddball department. 

“As I was saying,” I took another glance at the Reader before continuing, “I can handle Eruca so don’t worry about it.” The guardian was troublesome but not one that we couldn’t handle. It’s what lies beyond it that’s threatening. 

“Now, I’ll be eternally grateful if you can hurry up with your meal and let us be on our way before the sun goes down. The last thing I want is to go through the dark forest when the unseelie courts are awake.” 

I faked a shudder and threw a handful of raspberries at Herman—which he caught with his mouth—and tried to ignore the unnerving thought that gnawed at the edge of my mind. 

Dark creatures with deadly poison in their bodies were the furthest from my mind now. What worried me was whether we would find something that wasn’t there before in the Library. 

Like a new shelf dedicated to a Tale in process.