The WishKeeper (The Paragonia Chronicles)

by Timm, Maximilian

  Thane stared at nothing in particular, dumbfounded. As he floated past Shea, the red head tried to hide her disappointment, but it didn’t matter. It was the wave of frustration that rushed through her that truly upset her. Why is anyone surprised? Why such hope when they knew what was most likely going to happen anyway? Some of the Monies nearby suddenly popped and disappeared. A little disaster that they were all too used to seeing, and it just confirmed Shea’s bubbling frustration - any time a wish isn’t granted, other wishes are doomed to disappear. They might as well all just go away. Why wait?

  “I guess you were right,” said Thane as he floated away.

  The small cupcake’s candle still burned. The flickering light of the flame bounced, unaware of the sad news. With tears welling up in Shea’s soft, frustrated eyes, she grabbed the gift. Wanting to throw it into the pond, she couldn’t. She stared at it as if sheer will could vanquish it since she couldn’t even bare the hopeful attempt of a quick breath. The false hope of the flame continued to bounce. Was there anything she could do? Not for her home or fellow fairies, but for herself?

  Finally, she blew the candle out.

  8

  Another Chance

  It was late and though the moon was at its highest point in the night sky, it still lit up the glistening pool of Exclamation Point. Beren stood alone along the stone edge, staring at the water. His hands were in his pockets, but his thoughts were deeper.

  “What do I do, Ellie?” Beren said out loud. “You’d know what to do. You always did.” He sighed audibly and brushed fingers through his graying hair.

  Quietly approaching and noticing her dad talking to himself, Shea took a cautious step around the dirt-paved exit path. It was the first time she’d been up to The Point in years, but she knew her father would be there. He may have been the last person she wanted to talk to, but she needed to do something. She was hoping that the recent unfulfilled wish might soften her dad a bit and allow an actual conversation about her possibly joining the force.

  “Hey. Dad?” said Shea quietly. He didn’t respond and continued to stare at the statue. “I’m - I’m sorry about today. I’d like to try again if you’d let me. I can be a Keeper, Dad, I just -,” Shea continued, but Beren suddenly woke up.

  “Did you know there used to be a waterfall here? It poured into the pool. There was a constant beacon of light shining from this Point. Your mom called it, ‘the heart of Paragonia’. I always liked that.”

  Shea took a seat along the edge of the pool, scared to look at her distraught father. She glided her hand along the water as he continued. “With every wish we lose, the more shallow this pool becomes.”

  “I know. That’s why I -,” her eagerness was cut off again.

  “It’s my responsibility to keep this pool filled. To keep our fairies safe. The only thing keeping us from being overrun by Erebus is…what?” Beren asked, but it was obviously rhetorical and Shea didn’t bother answering. “Granting wishes. You realize that’s what we do, right? The more we grant, the stronger our borders become.”

  “I know, Dad, and I’m...”

  “Every wish is of extreme importance! Every wish! And when a Keeper allows one to be destroyed, it equals the death of a dozen others,” Beren continued, frustration brimming.

  “I already know this. Why are you -?”

  “Because you’ll get your second chance when you realize your responsibility to this realm!” Beren yelled, this time looking directly at his daughter. Shea knew there wasn’t, or shouldn’t have been, a response to this. She held her tongue.

  “We’ll discuss your detention tomorrow. You can walk home from here,” Beren said as he flew off over the edge of the Point, leaving his daughter alone.

  The thought of starting over, working her way up through the ranks from the very bottom, kissing the butts of every commanding officer much less her father, it was excruciating and nauseating and there was no way she could do it again. All just to maybe guard a Gate for the rest of her life? Something needed to happen, but the familiar feeling of helplessness was overwhelming as she sat and dangled her legs over the edge of The Point. How ironic, she thought. The Point. What was the point of all of this, really?

  Watching a shooting star streak across the sky over the dark and empty castle in the distance, it was impossible for her to accept the pointlessness of anything. All she ever asked or wished for was a chance. But she might just need to create that chance on her own and she was done feeling sorry for herself.

  9

  Broken

  A thick, heavy snowfall descended over the cul-du-sac. Street lamps lit up Abdera’s snow-covered streets and though Christmas lights on the small cottages of The Other Side did their best to brighten the neighborhood, it was sad and run down. A once happy little town, though never bustling, its comfort had leaked away over the past ten years. The familiarity and ease that emanated from its corners was gone, and the quiet that was left was loud and unnerving.

  A small single-story cottage with a wrap-around front porch was the only house without Christmas lights. The sidewalk and steps were untended and drifts of frozen snow were cut through with lazy footprints. The quiet of the cul-du-sac was juxtaposed by the heated argument going on inside the house.

  A small candle flickered on a dusty table as Miranda rushed by, a suitcase in her hand and tears streaming down her face. Grayson followed her like a pleading puppy as she picked up odds and ends, shoving them into a half open purse. With long, stringy black hair, Miranda’s eyes were wide, oval shaped and glistening from hours of crying. They were rimmed with exhausted redness, and begging for whatever extended argument they’d witnessed to just simply end.

  Grayson didn’t have a hard edge on him. He was simple, tall, and yet just a shell of a once energetic young man who thought he’d found the love his life. There was a flicker in his eyes that beamed with an inability to accept that he may have been wrong. As he groped at his wife, trying to keep her from storming out, he felt that it wasn’t just a girl he was begging to keep, but a life that for so long felt perfect. It was slipping through his fingers, leaving his clammy palms filled with nothing more than dusty confusion.

  “Please don’t do this, Miranda,” pleaded Grayson. He looked older than his years should show as he grabbed Miranda’s coat.

  “That’s the point, Grayson! I can’t do this. Not anymore,” replied Miranda as she tugged the coat away. She threw it over her arms and shoulders and hurried to the door. Grayson grabbed her again, stopping her.

  “We loved each other once, right? We can again. Just have to work at...”

  “I can’t work at it anymore, Grayson!” she said. “We never see each other! When we do talk, it’s nothing but arguing and you spend every moment in the basement painting whatever it is you’re painting and meanwhile I’m working two jobs just to -.”

  “I’ve got some bites on my work and if all else fails, I’ll get a job.”

  “Selling artwork to pay dentist bills isn’t a bite! And all else has failed,” returned Miranda as she turned toward the door.

  “Please, Miranda! We’ll spend more time together. We should have your parents over for Christmas dinner like we used to. Let’s just fix this.”

  “You hate my parents,” Miranda replied. “And spending time together - it isn’t that easy.”

  “Hate is a pretty strong word,” said Grayson. Miranda rolled her eyes and turned back to the door. He stopped her again, “Please! It’ll get better.”

  “How?” asked Miranda. “We’re broken. When does it get better?”

  “We’re not broken. Maybe a little bent, but just - please don’t run away,” begged Grayson.

  Years of comfort. Years of ease and the stability of a simple touch. A look that could strengthen a day’s chances at success. Like their little town, Grayson and Miranda were slipping away. Even though on the surface they thought it was obvious why, deep down the confusion was enough to break them. Miranda saw all of this in one flick
er of candlelight that bounced from Grayson’s eyes to her own. Something deep down was wrong, missing. The stare was prolonged by Grayson’s firm grip on her hand.

  She let go.

  “Merry Christmas, Grayson,” she said, but as a goodbye. A finality.

  Swiftly she flung the door open and hurried down the snow covered porch steps, rushing to the driveway. Grayson could only watch, desperate, but out of options. He stepped out into the icy winter air and slowly sat on the hard-packed snow of the porch and stared as Miranda climbed into her car. It was cold, but he didn’t care.

  A swirl of red light slowly formed above his head as he sat. It flickered like an old light switch was flipped on again after years of non-use. Fluttering to life, a red ball of light appeared above him. The red light twinkled and reflected upon the grey snow and yellow street lamps. Grayson didn’t notice the visible light, but its burning blistered within him.

  Breaking down into tears, Miranda pushed herself into her car, trying to catch her breath. The crying overcame her as she stared at Grayson through the frosty windshield. How could this be happening? I’m leaving the love of my life. My best friend, she thought.

  As she sat in her frozen front seat, fighting and choking back the tears, a red light flickered above her, swirling into shape and finally twinkling to life. Breaking each other’s gaze, there was nothing left to do but leave.

  Between them, hovering in the air in the middle of their frozen front yard, the two red, flickering bulbs of light connected and morphed into one powerful red light. The wind picked up and swirled through the cul-du-sac. A True Love Wish was growing between them and whipped the snow into a whirlwind. It popped into form and spun in a circle between the two heartbroken lovers. Faster and faster, it whirred and spun, creating a loud hum that echoed across the neighborhood until it exploded into a giant red beacon. It fired up into the winter sky.

  The beacon blasted its blaze for a short time and finally disappeared, leaving a wild stallion of a True Love Wish spinning between Grayson and Miranda. The still winter night rushed back in as Miranda started up the car. The roar of the engine sputtered grey, foggy condensation into the street. The wheels crunched through hard-packed snow as she backed out of the driveway and drove away. Grayson couldn’t stand watching her leave. He picked himself up off the frozen front steps and limped back into the house.

  The wish stopped spinning and zoomed toward Grayson only to be cut off by the front door slamming in its face. Turning on a dime, it zipped down the wet street, chasing after Miranda’s car. It was bright red, oblong in shape. Its aerodynamic form assisted its ability to flash through the air faster than any other wish, but even though it gained on Miranda, getting close to her rear bumper, slushy grey snow splashed and crashed it to the pavement.

  Dizzy, the wish popped up out of the mud, shook the slush off and searched for Miranda’s car. No sign of her. It looked in the direction from which it thought it came, but Grayson’s house was out of sight. The lonely, wet street glistened under a Christmas star decoration dangling from a street lamp. The star blinked a slow, pulsing red and green. Icicles hung from its lowest point, frozen, stuck in a perpetual fall. A winter wind buzzed the little wish’s fuzzy, oblong shape and as much as it searched, desperate to find a glimpse of its Makers, the True Love Wish was lost. Confused and not knowing where to go, the sad little wish floated away into the cold winter night.

  Away in the corners of the neighborhood, the darkness rippled with movement.

  10

  The Beacon

  BLEEP…BLEEP…BLEEP

  Something woke Beren from a soft snore. Groggily reaching for a star-shaped device on his bedside table, he grabbed his wand and fired a soft spell at it. He sat up, rubbed his eyes and ducked as the device exploded a holographic image out of its top. The image showed a WishSentinel failing at keeping his cool and a wild Fairy Intelligence Agency behind him with staff members running about, papers floating to the ground and panicked yells from Keepers barking orders.

  “Easy!” yelled Beren, still trying to wake up.

  “Yes sir, sorry sir!”

  “What’s going on over there? You know how early it is?”

  “Yes, right, very early. Sir, there was a signal and all the lights on the panels are blinking and it might be because of the signal but it can’t be, sir, because that would just be crazy, but then we noticed -,” the Sentinel wasn’t exactly a professional at this point.

  “Officer. Officer! Speak like a normal fairy being. Please!” Beren begged. “Tell me what’s going on…slowly.”

  Down the hall from Beren’s bedroom, Shea could hear her father’s voice. She was lying in bed, still awake. She perked her head and sat up in her loft bed and listened to the garbled voice, but couldn’t quite make out what Beren was saying. Jumping from the bed, grabbing a rope and swinging down to the bedroom door, she landed as quietly as she could and cracked it open just an inch. Putting her ear to the opened crack, she listened.

  Beren was standing now and definitely awake as he barked responses to the panicked Sentinel. “Erebus is always busy at night. You know there’s nothing--.”

  “Yes, but sir, the signal!” replied the Sentinel now inches from the camera. His faced almost pressed up against it.

  “How many times have I trained you in how to manage the WishPanels? It’s old equipment. You have to jiggle the -,” Beren was refusing to listen to the Sentinel.

  “It was a beacon! Sir,” the Sentinel barked.

  “A beacon?’ replied Beren, uncertain.

  Opening the door a bit more, Shea whispered to herself, repeating her father’s question. “Beacon?” With delicate toes and risking the inevitable bending of the floorboards, Shea crept to her dad’s door and leaned her head against it.

  “Show me the WishPanels,” ordered Beren. The Sentinel hesitated. “Now!”

  Shea pushed her father’s bedroom door open just a bit. She couldn’t help it - curiosity was getting the best of her. Through the crack, she watched the hologram image swerve and show the main surveillance room of the F.I.A. A massive system of panels lined hundreds of feet of wall space, all showing maps of various towns and cities. Blue, green, purple dots, pink ones too - they covered each panel except for one.

  The particular panel of Beren’s interest showed a black fog slowly moving across a radar screen. The fog edged closer and closer to…

  “The cul-du-sac. Show me another panel. The city,” ordered Beren. Worry was building inside of him as the camera moved to an adjacent panel. Though more dense with various buildings, regions and populace, it was almost entirely clear of the black fog. “It has to be a glitch. None of the other panels…why would Erebus go back to…” said Beren, thinking out loud.

  “But sir, it’s impossible and, well, it just can’t be,” the Sentinel moved the camera closer to the fog-heavy panel. It was obvious to what the Sentinel was referring. Two red dots blinked - one pacing within a small cottage, another moving quickly down a small neighborhood street.

  Shea, spying through her father’s door, stared wide-eyed at the image. Luckily for Shea, Beren was too engrossed in the panel to notice her.

  “The WishMakers. It’s Grayson and Miranda, sir,” said the Sentinel stuttering in his own disbelief as a pop-up bubble of words appeared on the screen above each red dot. Grayson Brady: Home, Alone, Despair. Miranda Brady: Car, Alone, Confusion/Despair. Shea couldn’t read the notes on the screen, but Beren could.

  Beren sat, pale faced, unable to comprehend, but he knew his Sentinel wasn’t lying and that his WishPanels were never wrong.

  “How many fairies know?” Beren asked as calmly as possible.

  “Uh…”

  The Sentinel turned the image toward an office full of WishSentinels, office fairies, Keepers and then some. They huddled in a corner, staying as far away from the panel as possible as if the two red dots might bite. Beren groaned.

  “The Keepers on The Other Side. Get them back here. Immedia
tely,” ordered Beren. He threw on a robe and hurried out the window. The star-shaped device shut off as Shea slowly opened the bedroom door. She watched her father fly away. Breathless.

  11

  The Captain

  “Mom!” yelled Shea, standing at the edge of the blackness. A decade’s worth of time couldn’t erase the echo of her daughter’s voice. The haunting of a daughter’s plea.

  It swarmed her ears as she looked at Beren and felt the quivering, doomed True Love Wish in her arms. It was too painful to look at Shea, she thought. She forced herself to keep her eyes, her thoughts, on her husband. The only one who would ever understand. Her WishMaker’s true love, their future, their most important wish, rested weightless in her arms and she was going to destroy it.

  “I love you,” Elanor whispered, and though Beren couldn’t hear the words over the surrounding storm, she knew he would feel them. Most often, a goodbye needs nothing more than a wordless look. Her wand charged up. The spell wrapped itself around her wrist and sparked, inches from the True Love Wish.

  Erebus roared toward her, and tossed Beren to the ground. She watched her husband struggle to stand and with the fog rushing toward her, Elanor’s eyes never strayed from him. Her wand charged and charged. Its power was so strong, she could barely hold on. She wished it hadn’t come to this. She wished she didn’t know…

  When she watched Beren dive on top of Shea, it woke her from her stare. “Shea,” she said quietly through a sudden bursting of tears. Erebus’ blackness consumed her as she looked down at the True Love Wish and closed her eyes. The wind whirled and raged around her.