The WishKeeper (The Paragonia Chronicles)

by Timm, Maximilian

  “I’m sorry,” she choked.

  She let the spell go and it ripped into the wish. The blast was enormous, and once the blinding light reached her eyes, Elanor only remembered the pain.

  * * * *

  The darkness of the sky lifted and gave way to a silver screen of dotted stars. Elanor was lying on her back. The snow all around her was melted and barely a rustle of Erebus’ storm remained. Beren and Shea were gone. The wish was gone. Her life as she knew it only moments prior was as well.

  Brown, wet grass surrounded her in a perfect circle and her wings - nothing but charred, mangled skeletal remains. The night was calm and windless. The stars blinked, but Elanor didn’t. She was barely breathing when a shadow stretched over her.

  Limping, Erebus stopped and stood over her. As if shapeless, he was complete shadow, though retaining a demented form of a man wearing a pointed, hooded cloak. He looked down at the barely conscious WishKeeper, lowered a shadowed hand just a bit and wrapped black fog around her, lifting her up. Elanor was limp in his shadowed palm as he turned and stepped into the darkness of a tree’s stretching shadow. Morphing into the blackness, he disappeared.

  Taking shape, Erebus appeared at the base of an ancient oak, and looked up. A Gate was flickering like a scrambled, broken image above him. He placed Elanor on a branch, setting her down. She stirred and moaned through the pain of a broken body.

  “My Elanor. Wake up, my Elanor,” Erebus whispered.

  She rolled on to her side and blinked through a crippling headache. Quickly sitting up, she backed away from the staring Erebus as he loomed over her.

  “Shea. Where is she?” she pleaded, but stopped suddenly when she backed into the trunk of the tree. She felt for her wings. Looking over her shoulder, she saw the bones. Panic slowly set in.

  “They’re gone. All gone now,” said Erebus.

  “You did this. How could you?” asked Elanor exhausted and desperate.

  “My research got the best me, Elanor. Literally, the best of me,” he smiled an evil grin. “That was quite the heroic act. A necessary sacrifice, if you will. You’ve helped me see the light, however,” he continued his ironic grin.

  Elanor forced herself to stand. Every muscle ached and the throbbing in her shoulders pulsed with every drumbeat of her heart. She looked up at the blinking Gate above her and out of habit, tried to fly. Cringing, the skeletal bones of her remaining wings barely moved. Falling to her knees, she cried out in pain.

  “Don’t bother. Your friends have done something even I did not expect,” Erebus said. “They closed the gates. All of them. Unprecedented, really. I will have to have a little talk with your husband.”

  “Beren. He -,” tried Elanor, but the pain was too much.

  “It’s just you and me. My Elanor.” A black fog rolled out of Erebus. Darkness reached up and out of him, swirling toward Elanor. She tried to back away, but it consumed her.

  * * * *

  Within the Fairy Intelligence Agency, The WishSentinel watched through a hologram as his general flew out of his bedroom window, fresh off the news of a newly made True Love Wish. His General’s orders to retrieve all Keepers from The Other Side still rattled his brain as he grabbed a microphone device and flipped a switch. Two WishMakers had made a second True Love Wish. How could this be? He had heard the stories of their first True Love Wish and how it was destroyed, sacrificed if you will. But to make a second one - impossible. But was it? He was dizzy as he grabbed the microphone.

  “All active duty Keepers, this is not a drill. All gates will close in T-minus five minutes. This is a breakout call. Return to headquarters immediately.”

  He slapped the switch off and stared at various monitors. On the screens, he watched WishKeepers react to a device at their belts and bolt away. “Come on. Get out of there,” he said with what little composure he had left. He stared at another monitor. A WishKeeper was perched on top of a street lamp. He hadn’t noticed the breakout call yet and continued surveying his location. The Sentinel watched, impatient and desperate, as the street lamp Keeper didn’t budge.

  Atop the street lamp, the WishKeeper watched a teammate tracking a lazy Ladder floating above a nearby home. To his far left, another Keeper was doing the same with an Athlete.

  At his belt, his radar device blinked and beeped and finally he noticed. He looked at it, confused at first, but followed orders. He waved down his teammates and sparked his wand, sending a sharp red flare quickly into the sky. The lightly falling snow muffled the sound of a beater car rumbling along the unplowed street below as the two Keepers noticed the flare. They darted out of their positions and followed his lead.

  The trio of Keepers flew in formation through frozen branches and came to a clearing. An old maple glowed with a shimmering Gate in the middle of the tree. Just as they darted into the clearing, a swarm of Lost Fairies launched and propelled themselves, firing spells at the retreating Keepers, cutting them off. The blasts lit up the little pocket of the forest.

  Faster and more agile, the Keepers dodged and weaved through the onslaught, but they were outnumbered. Forced to break rank, they fired defensive spells back at their attackers, desperate to make it to the maple, until one of the Keepers was tackled and pulled to the icy ground.

  About to finish off the tackled Keeper, the Lost Fairy with his wand raised high, was blasted back as the two other Keepers grabbed their fellow soldier and rushed back into the sky. Hurtling through grappling Lost Fairies and wicked spells, they were seconds away from the Gate until…

  A menacing Lost Fairy dropped down from a higher branch and landed directly in front of the Gate. Taller and more athletic than the others, he held his wand loose in one hand and leaned a thick, heavy crossbow against his shoulder. A black, form-fitting cloak draped the rest of him and his hood skewed any light from his face. Black, charred bones protruded from his back. The wing remnants were gnarled and twisted as if hundreds of battles had continually battered them into regression. This was no ordinary Lost Fairy and the Keepers knew it. It was The Captain.

  The WishKeepers drew their wands and charged. The Captain didn’t flinch as if eagerly awaiting the fight. The Keepers blasted spells in unison. Three spells careened toward The Captain. He ducked to his left and dodged one, blasted the next spell with a counter then caught the third blast with his bare hand. Smoke sizzled from his burning palm, unfazed. Now it was his turn.

  He dropped the lame spell, blasted his own wrangling spell around the neck of one incoming Keeper, pulled and propelled himself, using the Keeper like a hook to swing up and above his attackers. He swung the neck-wrangled Keeper and slammed him into a tree. Letting go of the spell and starting to fall, he fired another wrangling spell at the second Keeper and with the same technique, hurled himself back toward the Gate, shooting the Keeper with his crossbow as he soared.

  Careening toward the tree, he stuck his crossbow deep into the bark, perching himself along the trunk and wrangled the third incoming Keeper, also around the neck. This time, he held the final Keeper up, choking him to death. Every move was effortless as if The Captain was simply observing everything he was doing. He was coldly watching them, free of judgment.

  A black wind whipped through the trees and swept the strangled Keeper out of The Captain’s grip. A familiar foggy hand wrapped around the Keeper’s waist.

  “It would be in our best wishes to let this one live. Your gate awaits,” he said to the caught Keeper. “Go tell your hero General his time has come and I hold true to my promises,” said Erebus, calm but threatening.

  The Keeper was suddenly free and didn’t hesitate. He swooped toward the Gate and disappeared through it. The Captain watched him leave, staring at the diminishing light as the Gate shut.

  “You wish to leave, do you? To fly through with him?” taunted Erebus in a cool tone. He swiftly grabbed The Captain and squeezed a tendril of fog around his neck, raising him up. “You waste my time chasing useless Keepers and birthday wishes while the first bea
con in years shines on The Other Side!” he said as he slammed The Captain to the ground. He leaned his black face inches from The Captain’s and slowly whirled fog around the fallen Lost Fairy.

  “You want to leave? Then do as I say!” Erebus yelled and the fog immediately straightened The Captain to attention, under a spell, unnatural.

  “Find the Makers, bring me True Love and you can go. We can all go,” Erebus finished. He swirled into the blackness of the night and left The Captain alone, still stuck in the spell.

  Fighting the curse, The Captain slowly turned his head toward where the Gate shined within the maple. He stared at it for a long breathless moment, then quickly propelled a grappling spell into a nearby tree and launched himself away.

  12

  Fairies Don’t Make Wishes

  It used to take Shea all morning to climb the wall of the castle in order to sneak into its library. Because of the overgrowth of vines sprawling its mossy stone, her climb was a bit easier these days. Through daily repetition, she had memorized every crack, step, reach, and balancing act needed to squeeze through the over-sized mouse hole under the third story stained glass window. She liked to think that a mouse got so hungry for knowledge one day that it couldn’t help itself and gnawed right through the stone. Now that she had become so good at grappling, her ascent up the northwest wall wasn’t as tiresome, and it gave her extra time to devour the thousands of books within.

  Shea wasn’t what most consider an avid reader. She wasn’t interested in other’s stories, only her own. It was a sickness that drove her to the library on a daily basis. A sickness that she grew to love - one that stirred her stomach, tingled her spine and pumped her angry blood. While most of her peers were too frightened to cross over to The Other Side, Shea was determined to do so. Every unread book represented a possibility, a hope, that despite her disability, there was a loophole or a precedent set by a past WishKeeper that she could emulate. A precedent that she could use to prove that just because she can’t fly doesn’t mean she can’t Keep wishes. While nothing had yet been found on the subject, there was a vast storage of skills, spells and tips that she had secretly practiced for the past ten years.

  The library was enormous - so big, it took the dust and spiders much longer to cover it compared to the other rooms of the castle. Over the years, Shea had divided the massive library hall into stacks of books: “Boring”, “Possibly Not So Boring” and “Awesome”. The “Boring” stack was much larger than the “Awesome” stack, but adding to the “Awesome” stack was what kept Shea returning to the library every day. However, books with titles such as, The Flying Machine, The Physics of WishMaker Flight and Spells For The Lazy Keeper had captivated her.

  On this exciting day, Shea wasn’t climbing her “Awesome” stack, but instead slipping and sliding up and down the “Boring” stack, mumbling to herself.

  “Where is it? I know it’s here somewhere!” Tossing books aside such as Why Do We Just Call Them ‘Trees’? A Nature Guide to Paragonia, and Release The Giant Within, Self-Help for Wizards, she let out an impatient grunt and craned her neck, looking up at the towering shelf in front of her. This merely one of a hundred towering shelves; she was looking for a needle in a haystack.

  Blasting a grapple spell three shelves up, she heaved herself to the shelf and landed on the edge. Inching along, she wiped dust from each book’s binding, searching. “Come on. Where are you?”

  “Shea! What are you doing in here?” yelled Thane from out of nowhere.

  Startled, Shea slipped and fell. Thane rushed beneath her, arms out. Shea quickly blasted another grapple spell and connected to a random book.

  “Don’t you know we’re in a library? You can’t just sneak up on someone and scream!” Shea yelled at Thane as she dangled.

  “The king’s library is off limits.”

  “The so-called king is long gone. Don’t think he’ll mind--whoa!” Shea accidentally pulled the book from its shelf and crashed to the heap of “boring” books below. The dislodged book toppled over her.

  “Shea!”

  “I found it!” chirped Shea from under the book. The little fairy pushed over the giant book and flipped through its pages. “Evenstar…Evenstar. Where is…got it!”

  “Found what?” asked Thane as he looked over her shoulder. At the top of the page he read, WishKeepers and WishMakers - Lineage.

  “Something happened tonight. Something huge,” said Shea as she continued searching the page. “There! I knew it!”

  “I just know we can’t be in Erebus’ library. It’s strictly off -,” suddenly Thane found a wand stuck in his neck.

  “I don’t care if this was once his library, it’s not anymore!” yelled Shea as she flashed angry eyes at him. Realizing the placement of her wand, she pulled it away and relaxed a little. “Sorry.”

  “You’re crazy, you know that?” Thane rubbed his neck.

  “I said I was sorry, OK?”

  “Then tell me what happened and why you’re in…here”.

  “Do you believe in fate?” Shea quickly asked. Thane could barely say “um” before, “Like no matter the choices you make or what happens in your life, you’re supposed to be something? Or someone?”

  “Yeah, I - maybe,” tried Thane, but Shea cut him off again as she read from the book.

  “WishMakers, Miranda Anderson and Grayson Brady, assigned at human age nine by the order of the WishKeepers to first class fulfillment officers Elanor Willowind and Beren Evenstar respectively,” Shea looked at Thane.

  “They were nine when they were finally assigned Keepers?” Thane wondered out loud.

  “Just - would you listen? My parents met when Miranda and Grayson were kids. Because they spent every wishing moment together, so did my parents! My parents eventually married and had me!“ she flipped to the next page. It was a huge family tree with notes of which WishMaker belonged to which WishKeeper within the family history of Shea’s parents. A note next to Elanor Willowind read, First WishMaker Assignment: Grayson Brady, Maker year 1991. The same type of note was next to Beren’s name noting Miranda as Beren’s first assignment. Only four years prior had Erebus been crowned WishingKing.

  “My parents were assigned their first WishMakers in the Maker year of 1991. They were fresh out of training when they were assigned Miranda and Grayson,” explained Shea, still just as excited, but her enthusiasm slowed as she considered how eager her parents must have been. They were no younger than Shea at the time, full of hope and enthusiasm to take on their first assignment. They were fresh and optimistic with a bright, unknown future stretching out in front of them. Their daughter wasn’t even a flutter in their hearts.

  “Huh. Neat. I wonder if my gram’s family is in here,” said Thane, leaning toward the book.

  “Can we stay on point please?” Shea said as she stopped Thane from turning the page.

  “Well then, what is the point?”

  “Just read that,” Shea impatiently pointed to a note at the very bottom of the page.

  Thane sighed, annoyed, and read the text, “By fulfillment law, at parental death, the family WishMakers are passed to final heir - Shea Evenstar. And…that’s all it says.”

  “What do you mean that’s all it says?” Shea pointed at herself, “Final heir!”

  “It’s an old book in an old library that we’re not supposed to be in,” Thane said trying to close the book and obviously not understanding what Shea was not-so-cleverly trying to explain. Shea grabbed the page from him.

  “Grayson and Miranda made another True Love Wish tonight.”

  “The deep end, and you just jumped off it,” said Thane, confirming she was officially nuts.

  “I’m serious!”

  Thane was barely listening at this point. “If every day of my Keeping you is like this, I’m gonna be dead before I even become a Keeper.”

  “I heard my dad talking with the F.I.A. just an hour ago!”

  “Look, I think it’s great you’re looking up your fam
ily history and I know how hard it is to lose a parent, but WishMakers don’t make two True Love Wishes. It’s impossible. And it would mean that -,” Shea cut him off again.

  “That it’s my wish! By wishing right, I’m the one who has to grant it.”

  Thane stared at her, thinking but not believing, even though she was right if what they were reading was correct, anyway. With a quick rip, Shea tore the page out of the lineage book.

  “Shea!” scolded Thane.

  “Fate. Remember?”

  The eager, broken-winged fairy rushed out with the book page flapping at her side.

  Shea walked with a purpose across the grassy glade. Behind her was the dilapidated stone castle and Thane trying to keep up. In front of them was the headquarters to the Fairy Intelligence Agency. A thatched roof structure huddled within the branches of a massive oak tree. With four tiers above the base and turrets towering over five corners, it was quite huge, even by fairy standards.

  As Thane caught up to the purposeful Shea, he tried to slow her down. “Even though the rules are clearly stated and you are evidently the rightful heir to the wish, General Beren is too, so let’s just think about this for a second.”

  Still marching, Shea interrupted, “Two WishMakers, two WishKeepers. My mom is…my dad needs me, OK? And I can’t think anymore! It’s all I’ve been doing my whole life.”

  “Yes, but sometimes stopping to think helps you make the best decision because you can’t just walk into the F.I.A. and tell the General that it’s your wish,” said Thane, thinking he was making sense.

  “Watch me,” Shea quickened her pace. Thane stopped and dug in his heels.

  “Shea. You can’t fly!”

  Spinning on her heels and staring at Thane, rage swelled within her. She charged at him, red-faced.

  “Don’t you tell me what I can or can’t do. This is my wish! Who’s gonna grant mine, huh?”