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starryserenade · 1 year

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Myth and Magic: Prologue

Description: When Tir na NÓg--the fabled land of the fae--falls to a dark power, the destinies of two young mice are set in motion. As each struggle to make their way in an ever-darkening world, they must learn to trust one another, or risk forever losing that which they hold most dear.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44709304/chapters/112488658

Next Chapter: Coming Soon

Ribbons of twilight stretched along the sky, streaming through the clouds to make way for the first layer of stars to breach the horizon. The pink hue settled on the ground below in glowing pools mixed alongside seas of grass. Sailing over them were two horses and their riders, cutting through the breeze with ripples of fabric trailing behind them. Though the expanse that surrounded them was clear and green, it was towards a darker place they rode—a forest that seemed to divide the world in two, with trees whose branches grasped at the light outside its borders.

As the riders neared this stark divide, the horses whinnied and reared up, flaring their nostrils in defiance and nearly throwing their masters from their backs. Skillfully, the two maneuvered the reins and managed to calm their steers, coming to a halt at the foot of the forest.

One of the two-a mouse dressed in a soft, green dress-slid off first. She was tiny, not even three feet tall, and so had a ways to travel when she leapt to the ground. This, however, did nothing to deter her grace. Her slippers landed on the grass with barely a sound as the streams of fabric round her dress fluttered about her ankles. Her friend was a bit less subtle, and looking to see there were no others about, undid the outer layer of dress so as to move about more freely, then jumped to the earth with a thud. As she brushed her skirt and corset off, the mouse cast her a glare and placed her hands on her hips.

“Really, Daisy?”

“What?” The duck glared back. “This is your party, not mine. I’m just here because you so desperately wanted me to meet your mysterious suitor. Besides, if there are any other handsome fairy bachelors, who am I to deny them a good view?” She scoffed sarcastically, landing the point with a decided shake of her tail feathers.

At this, the mouse’s frustrated look shifted into one of disappointment. “You still don’t believe me, do you?” She muttered.

Daisy, who had not meant any real harm, realized how her words had struck, “Well, I…” she sighed, then continued. “Listen, Minnie, it’s just…they’re fairies. Heavens forbid I don’t believe they exist–’course they do–but you’ve heard the stories. They’re tricky. They can make you think and feel all manner of things that aren’t-”

“True?” Minnie interrupted, lifting an eyebrow. “I’m not blinked if that’s what you’re trying to say.” She fiddled with the fabric of her dress and looked into the shadows of the forest, letting out a soft puff of air. “I know what it must look like, but…I’ve never felt this way before. Not about anyone. My whole life I’ve done nothing but what’s been asked of me, but right now I have the chance to make a choice of my own. If I go back to the castle tonight…if I go through with what they want me to do…I’ll lose that chance forever.”

They were both quiet for a moment, then Daisy chuckled and threw up her hands in surrender. “Okay, I admit it, you’ve got me there. Even if we do get trapped forever in the dark and unforgiving depths of the fae realm, it’s better than spending the rest of your life with Mortimer.”

“Oh, I knew you’d understand!” Minnie laughed, a wide smile gracing her face as she flung herself into a hug.

Daisy just grinned and playfully rolled her eyes, then the two turned to face the forest together. By now, the sky was a darkening shade of velvet blue and moonlight had begun to peak out from behind the clouds. “Sooo…” Daisy started, clicking her beak. “How are we supposed to find this fairy land of yours?”

From somewhere within the forest, an owl screeched, and Minnie turned to answer her friend with a wink. “Just follow me, got it?” Ignoring Daisy’s incredulous look, she pulled something from her pocket-an emerald figure of intertwining knots–and held it to her lips. She let out a soft, indiscernible whisper as she breathed against the crystal then lifted it to the sky. A beam of moonlight landed on its surface and sparkled in the center, and for a moment, it was as if all sound and motion had escaped from the earth. Then the light within the figure ran along each branch of shimmering crystalline and released a burst of light that stirred up the wind into an uproar. The leaves from the trees before them were caught up in its wake, and surrounded each of the two girls in a spiral of green. Daisy opened her beak to let out a cry of surprise, but the rushing wind carried it far from Minnie’s ears. She simply closed her eyes, smiled softly, and held her hand to her chest as the sudden storm overtook them.

When the wind had calmed a few moments later, Minnie opened her eyes and let out a gasp of joy at the sight that met them. “Daisy!” she hissed, nudging her friend who was cowering with her hands clasped over her head.

“Is it over?” the duck squawked loudly, and Minnie laughed.

“Just look!”

Daisy carefully opened one eye then, face struck with wonder, stood straight and took in the view. “Janey Mac…” she whispered.

It was as if time had rewound, for the sky before them was lit with twilight once again. The line of trees had grown tenfold and seemed otherworldly, with veins of gold and silver running through their trunks and into branches that swayed with leaves of every kind of precious stone. Rivers of moonlight wove through grassy hills of auburn grass, bridges of skillfully etched opal lining a way overtop them and into paths that stretched between an endless expanse of enormous fauna–mushrooms, ferns, and lily-of-the-valleys that fluttered gently in the breeze.

Daisy took a step backwards and Minnie caught her wrist, prompting the duck to glance behind her. If the divide between the hillside and forest had been stark before, it was cavernous now. The blanket of night still covered the world from which they’d come, and there was not a hint of magic even just steps behind where they stood.

“We’re on The Brink,” Minnie explained, and nodded towards the world ahead. “Once we enter the forest, we’ll cross over into Tir na nÓg.”

At first lost for words, the duck cast a nervous look behind her, then shrugged and let out an exasperated sigh. “Can’t well turn back now, can we?”

The mouse smiled and nodded then, each taking a deep breath, they stepped forward into the fairy plane. The world shuddered, and the place behind them was transformed, the fairy world now overtaking their entire view.

“You know…maybe getting trapped in the fairy realm wouldn’t be so bad, after all,” Daisy murmured, eyeing a rose blossom that was so bright it seemed to be made of rubies. At this, Minnie wrinkled her nose and nudged her pointedly with her elbow.

“Daisy! We can take the tour later,” the mouse scolded, then looked about her. A hint of uneasiness fell over her face as she did. “It’s strange…” she whispered.

Daisy narrowed her eyes. “What is?”

“He usually meets me here…” Her voice trailed off with a quiver of nerves. “Something’s not right.”

“Maybe he’s just running late?” Daisy prompted distractedly.

“No. No, he wouldn’t be. Not today. This was…well…” She wrung her hands then flicked her tail, flashing a smile. “Nevermind. I’m sure you’re right.

But Daisy’s curiosity had been piqued, and was not easily quelled. “No, wait. What were you going to say?”

“It doesn’t matter.” The mouse waved off the question. “Let’s get on, the palace isn’t far. If he’s not here, that’s where he’ll be.” She ushered the reluctant duck away from a glittering patch of diamond-crested bluebells. The path they took led them through thicker foliage, and all manner of mystic creatures began to appear from within the shadows, eyes glittering as they watched the two mortal visitors. Minnie walked ahead, the glass amulet clutched in her hands, unphased by their watchers. Daisy, on the other hand, moved with ruffled feathers, nervously glancing at everything that moved.

“So…” she spoke eventually, breaking the deafening silence and jogging to catch up with Minnie, who had been uncharacteristically quiet. “All the time I’ve known you, and you’ve never once mentioned this prince of yours.”

Minnie cast her an empty glance, as if she’d just been shaken from deep within her thoughts, then, realizing what had been asked, giggled lightly and slid the amulet back into a pocket of her dress. “You may be my best friend, but you’re horrible at keeping secrets. The whole clan would’ve known by morning.”

Daisy gasped in mock offense, and opened her mouth to argue then closed it just as quick and shrugged. “Right, fair. But…” She bounded in front of Minnie and batted her eyelashes. “I know now, so you might as well tell me everything. Like…where and how did you meet?”

A light breeze fluttered through the ferns and the canopy above their heads, sending a whirlwind of jasper leaves down on them. Minnie looked up through the vortex, the dappled light dancing upon her muzzle. “When I was younger,” she breathed, just loud enough to be heard above the river they were following. “Father used to take me into the forest and tell me stories about the fae who lived there. About how they cared for all the lost and broken things of this world, and could turn sorrow into sadness. He said they would protect me too, so long as I believed. But when he fell ill…” The mouse’s tail had fallen into a sorrowful lull, and she walked several steps in silence before taking another breath. “Mortimer blamed the fairies. You remember, don’t you? He had snares placed all around the forest.”

“We thought him mad,” snorted Daisy. “And he never caught a thing.”

“Not mad, just wicked,” Minnie snarled, then lowered her voice. “But he did. Once.”

Daisy stopped in her tracks, mouth gaping open. “No!” she gasped, dumbfounded. “You ’don’t mean-”

Minnie nodded. “The night father died–the same night I learned of my fate to be married to that slimy gaimbín –I went back to the forest, to the place father had first taken me when I was young. That’s where I found…him. His wing had been twisted in one of Mortimer’s iron nets. And the cruel thing…it was killing him. So of course I cut him loose, and-” She paused and bit her lip, trying to form words for something she wasn’t quite sure how to describe. “Oh, Daisy,” she murmured, face flushing a deep red. “I’d not met him once in my life but the moment I saw those eyes, I was certain I knew him. It was like all of father’s stories had come to life right in front of me.”

Her tail ribboned behind her in pure bliss, until she caught sight of Daisy staring at her with a dumbstruck look in her eyes. “Er…sorry,” she mumbled, tucking a tuft of fur behind her ear. “I suppose I got a bit carried away there.”

But Daisy simply burst into a fit of laughter, swiping an amused stream of tears from her cheek with one hand and leaning up against a table-sized mushroom with the other.

“Well, you don’t have to be rude about it!’ Minnie snapped, firmly planting her hands on her hips.

“No, no, no,” the duck wheezed, struggling to catch her breath. “It’s just…all those days I caught you acting pure ossified without a sniff of juice about you…it all makes sense now! You were in love!”

At this, Minnie blushed an even darker shade of crimson.. “Wha-?! Was I that obvious?”

“You’re lucky everyone thinks you’re so sweet, else it would have been clear as crystal you were up to something…either that, or you’d been blinked. You had me fooled for a bit!”

Groaning, Minnie buried her face in her hands and took up a brisk pace, pushing a tall clump of crimson ferns out of their way. “Ugh, let’s just keep walking,”

“Hey, wait! One more thing!” panted Daisy as she pulled herself together just enough to keep up. “Why now? What’s so special about this visit that you wanted to take me with you?”

“Well…” the girl fiddled with the fabric of her skirt before looking over her shoulder with a nervous grin and a hesitant reply. “You’ll see.”

She did not give Daisy a chance to respond, and instead darted ahead, weaving through a luminescent clump of mushrooms and moss. “We’re nearly there!” She called. “Keep up!” Minnie’s countenance had shifted quite suddenly, and her nervousness from before seemed to have melted into a joyful excitement the further they pushed through the forest. Fairy creatures were not the only ones watching now, for the fae are drawn to pleasure and happiness, and so the fairies themselves had begun to emerge from their hiding places. Tiny pixies with light of all colors crept out from behind the flora to join in a glittering dance. Several druids, their bodies made entirely from wood–aspen, cedar, and pine–shook their heads in awakening and scattered leaves from their crowns. And elven-looking folk with wide, feathered wings and twisted horns peered at the girls from the tops of the trees.

Following the river, Minnie bounded over stones with a carefree essence that had been reserved for far too long, only glancing behind her every now and then to be sure Daisy was still following. She was, though not without a few unfortunate splashes in the shallow waves. As they progressed, the river narrowed until it was little more than a small stream. And at the end of its reach, its waters branched out into a lake filled with glittering stars. Daisy gasped and Minnie smiled as it came into view, for at its center lay a palace unlike any on the mortal plane. It was not a castle made of brick and stone, but an enormous oak tree with branches that reached far past the clouds and a trunk whose size surpassed even some mortal cities. Magic swirled up and down its bark, and thousands of tiny lights twinkled within its leafy canopy.

As they approached, two fairies, each about the same size as the girls, came swooping down to meet them, scattering an array of feathers across the shoreline. “His Majesty awaits you,” they spoke in unison, then parted and gestured towards the lake. The waters split immediately, creating a clear path towards the tree.

“There’s no need for formalities!” Minnie laughed, waving at the guards as though they were old friends. But they did not say a word, and simply side-eyed each other when she spoke. Awkwardly, Minnie rubbed her arm and moved along towards the new pathway, gesturing for Daisy to follow. “Right then…” she mumbled. “That was strange.”

“Did you know them?” Asked Daisy, flashing a wink back at one of the guards who, though visibly confused, proceeded to blush profusely.

“Yes, quite well,” she replied breathlessly, a flash of worry striking her eyes as they passed through the waters and disappeared from view. “They didn’t seem to recognize me though, did they?”

“Not a bit.”

They walked in silence for a moment, but when the base of the tree came into view, Minnie paused and pursed her lips. Looking left and right, she pulled the amulet from her dress and held it out to her friend. “I want you to keep this for me,” she whispered. “I trust the prince with my life, but something doesn’t seem right. If anything happens, you must keep this safe.”

“If something happens?” Daisy stared at the amulet then at her friend. “What do you mean, ‘if something ha-”

But before she could finish, the sound of a creaking doorway was heard, and the massive wooden gate cracked open. Minnie shoved the amulet in Daisy’s palm, and whipped forward to face the doorway head on. “Hide it!” she hissed under her breath, prompting Daisy to shove the emerald figure in her corset. “And if anyone offers you something to eat, do not take it.”

Minnie stepped forward and bowed lightly to each guard as she stepped into the castle. Daisy clumsily followed suit, happening to look up at one of the guards as she did. They were far different than those from across the lake, their faces concealed behind dark masks that made them seem more like shadows than fae. Daisy shuddered, flirtatious countenance instantly dissolved, and followed Minnie inside as quickly as she could.

The moment they crossed the threshold, the door behind them vanished, and they found themselves seated in a brightly lit banquet hall. The room was made of twisted pillars of wood, each flecked with diamonds that caused the light to bounce off them in a dreamlike gleam. Fairies of all kinds laughed and danced around the table at which they were sat, its surface littered with all manner of tantalizing dishes. And at the back of the hall, up a flight of stairs, an empty throne sat overlooking the revelry. Minnie was too busy staring at this throne to notice when Daisy reached for a crimson glass of wine, and by the time she had turned around, her friend was holding an empty glass.

“Daisy!” she cried out. “What did I tell you?”

“What?” The duck rolled her eyes, then flashed a curious wink, and Minnie couldn’t help but notice that her own glass was suddenly twice as full as the others. “You said not to eat anything.”

Before Minnie could argue, a fairy in an elegant hooded robe had approached them from behind and held out another glass filled to the brim, which Daisy quickly snatched. At first glance, Minnie’s heart leaped, for dressed in royal robes she had only ever seen one fairy wear, she was certain this fae was the one for which she had waited. But then she caught a glimpse at the wings to his back and in that moment, her breath might as well have left her. Before he had even removed his hood, she had stood, slamming her palms down on the table so that it shook the glassware and nearly toppled her own cup. “Who are you?” she hissed, face as red as the wine on the table.

The ballroom silenced. For just as much as the fae adore revelry, they despise anger and sadness. But the mysterious fairy looked at her, calm and collected, without a hint of surprise on his face. “Princess,” he chuckled. “You came all the way to Tir na nÓg, and don’t even know when the king himself is serving you?”

At this, she drew back, then leaned in with a scowl on her face. “The fairy realm has no king,” she spat. “Not yet. That was going to change today.” She held his stare as she spoke, eyeing his every feature with distrust. He was short, even smaller than she was, save for the rabbitlike ears atop his head which added at least a foot to his height. Despite this, there was a bitter pridefulness about him, and he did nothing but laugh despite his accusation.

“You’re mistaken, though you shouldn’t be blamed. The fae realm can do all sorts of things to a mortals’ mind.”

At this, Minnie scoffed and whirled around to face the rest of the fairies in the hall. “You all know me!” She cried. “And I know that this-’ she gestured to the fairy “king”. “-is not the prince you all care for! Don’t you remember?”

The fairies all glanced at one another but showed no signs of recognition, and looked at Minnie with empty eyes. Seeing them, Minnie took a step back against the table, her shoulders slumping. “What’s wrong with them?”

The king’s sneer melted into a snarl, and he stepped closer to the mouse, the broken horn atop his head gleaming like a shattered dagger. “Your prince does not exist here, and he never has. My advice to you? Follow your friend’s lead,” He gestured to Daisy, who seemed to have downed another glass of wine. “Eat, drink, be merry! Then wake in the morning and let this place become nothing more than a distant dream.”

Minnie glanced at Daisy, then back at the king.

This time, a dark shadow fell across his eyes, and he lowered his voice so that no others could hear. “I know why you came here,” he growled. “The lovestruck princess so desperate to escape her fate that she would abandon friends and kingdom alike just for a chance at freedom..”

“That’s not-” she gasped, taken aback by his claims.

“Oh, please,” he countered sharply. “You know it is. And you know what?” he leaned in, speaking even more hushed than before. “If your prince ever did exist, I’d say he made the same mistake.”

Minnie’s eyes widened, pools of fear and heartache as she realized what his words implied. “What have you done to him?” she choked, her breaths quickening.

“Oh, it’s all right, though,” the rabbit continued. “I wouldn’t dream of leaving you with such painful memories. Fairies have their own, special way of dealing with unpleasant emotions.” He stared at her dead on,, and past all the anger and cruelty, she could have sworn she saw pain in those eyes. “They forget.”

Minnie pushed back her chair and tried to run, but two of the shadowy fae–red eyes glittering beneath their masks–grabbed her by the wrists and kept her from moving an inch, no matter how she writhed.

Seeing this, Daisy rose from her seat, reaching for a dagger that strapped to her hip. “Princess!” she called out, sounding surprisingly attentive for the number of drinks she had consumed.

“Daisy!” Minnie screeched as loud as she could. “Daisy, run!”

“But-”

But no sooner had Daisy begun to protest than the king himself waved his hand. Her friend vanished, and the glass she had been holding crashed to the ground in a crimson pool. A look of horror flashed across her face, but the king scoffed. “She’ll be fine. Your friend will wake in her bed with a headache and no memory of where she got it–a quite common occurrence for her, I’d imagine.”

But now, even the room itself had begun to shift. Ornate walls and bright lights vanished, until they had turned to shattered stone and creeping moss.. When she blinked again, the fairy world had gone entirely, and surrounding them was nothing more than a mortal ruin–a stone castle with crumbling walls sitting atop a fog-ridden island. Minnie swallowed, looking down at the lake’s waves that lapped far below the turret on which they stood.

“Mortals have no place alongside fairies,” said the king, lifting the jewel before her eyes. “So you will forget you ever came to our realm. You will forget Tir na nÓg, and you will forget your prince.”

Taking a deep breath, he muttered some words in the fairy tongue, and a snaking thread of shadow appeared from the jewel. It rose like a plume of smoke at first, weaving aimlessly in the air. But then, slowly, it crept towards Minnie, hovering like a serpent about to strike.. “No…” she whimpered, eyes locked on the thread of magic as she tried desperately to escape the grip of her captors.

But the curse slithered forward, deaf to her pleas. And with a flick of the king’s wrist, it leapt forward and pierced her mind. She gasped, all the air driven from her body as she fell to her knees, opening her mouth to scream for a name she could no longer remember. Through the haze, she saw the king turn his head. And in that moment, she drew every ounce of her strength to pull free from the cold hands that bound her. She stumbled backwards as the fae lost their grip, but her mind was still a fog. By the time she had noticed the stone crumbling beneath her feet, it was too late. There was a rush of wind and mist, and then the icy waters of the lake surrounded her.

The world slowed as a deep chill took hold. Minnie, too cold and too overcome by grief to fight it, let it take her. She blinked, watching as the light filtered through the top of the waves and grew ever-distant. A peace rested in the darkness, and she longed to give into it. But a greater pain lay in her heart that would not let her rest, a loneliness that called to a soul she didn’t know, but could feel. Though she fought to cling to that feeling, the waters were winning the battle. Shadow flitted at the corners of her vision, growing darker all the time.

Then a voice like a deep whisper shuddered through the waters.

Are you the one?

Minnie was silent, certain she had merely imagined the sound. But then the fog in her brain dispersed every so slightly, and the voice continued.

I see your heart. You have lost something great.

Minnie hesitated, unsure of how, or if, she should respond.

Y-yes…but I can’t remember what. She thought at last, squinting through the water to try and catch a glimpse of the source of the noise, but it seemed to come only from her thoughts.. Can you tell me?

I cannot. The curse that binds you is great.

Then what can you do?

I can give you a second chance. There is another who seeks you, though he does not know it.

Is he the one I’m looking for?

…You must find that out for yourself.

Bubbles had begun to rise up from the bottom of the lake, and Minnie glanced nervously beneath her. The burning in her lungs had become nearly unbearable.

What do I have to do?

Wait. Guard these waters, and wait for his return. Do you accept my offer?

The mouse flicked her tail, desperate for air but even more desperate for answers.

Wait? For how long? What do you mean by bound?

Do you accept? The voice repeated.

Minnie’s vision had begun to fade once again, numbness spreading along her body as the clutches of death crept close.

Do you accept? The voice emphasized one, final time. And Minnie, with her last bit of strength, pulled a hand to her aching heart and muttered a single word in answer.

“Yes.”

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