Local-news.ca is thrilled to present part four of Mia Greene’s serial novel, titled Party of Misfits. In a nod to the literary traditions of the Victorian era, where renowned authors like Charles Dickens and Wilkie Collins captivated readers with serialized narratives, we bring you a modern twist on this classic form. Our talented writer Mia is a Burlington high school student and one of last year’s Burlington Public Library short story contest winners. Set in the contemporary world, Mia’s monthly installments of Party of Misfits will whisk you away into an enchanted fantasy realm. Join us on this literary adventure as we unfold the pages of Party of Misfits exclusively on Local-news.ca, where tradition meets the digital age, and storytelling takes on a whole new dimension.
To start from the beginning, read Part 1 of Party of Misfits: click here. For the previous installment, Part 3, click here.
Party of Misfits: Part 4
Gingersnap and Thornberry
To Aarwyn’s delight, Meenah and Thalia led her through the forest and toward an area just under Elme Alora and its dazzling palace. Nestled between tall mountain formations sat a glittering turquoise lake into which the waterfalls from the palace rushed down, the noise of falling water an echo against the surrounding rocks.
“I thought you said we weren’t going to Elme Alora,” Aarwyn inquired.
“We aren’t,” Meenah replied. “But they have the boats that will guide us to Pasella.”
Aarwyn followed the direction of Meenah’s sharp-nailed finger pointing to the dock that lay at the edge of the lake. In the far distance, Aarwyn could make out the narrowing of the lake, where it bled into a slender, glittering river beyond. Stripped birch wood sailboats bobbed in the calm waves at the dock’s edge, waiting patiently for a sailor to use them.
Aarwyn felt a little hesitant, trailing Meenah and Thalia as they trekked towards the boats. If Meenah was so adamant that the elf queen — Aelin something-or-other — shouldn’t find out about Aarwyn’s very mortal presence here, was it okay for them to hop into one of the elf kingdom’s boats?
“We’re not stealing, don’t worry,” Meenah called. Had she just read Aarwyn’s mind, or merely seen the look of distress on her face? Aarwyn hoped it was the latter. “All the fae are free to use these boats, and utilize the combination of elven and nymphish magic to find their way back here after taking someone to whichever location they please.”
Less worried now, Aarwyn joined Meenah and Thalia in one of the sailboats, ready to head to Pasella. After a series of delicate whispers from Meenah, the sailboat began to glide. No paddles needed, just magic. Aarwyn marveled at the revelation.
After about ten or so minutes of smooth sailing, Aarwyn’s eyes latched onto land coming up in the distance towards the left, and the long, wooden bridge from Elme Alora connected to the large island. She couldn’t quite make out any details due to a sudden smattering of white fog and clouds.
“We are passing through the Kingdom of the Nymphs, Nalanora,” Meenah began to explain. “The reason for these clouds is because of Aeris — one of the four sectors of land in Nalanora and also the name of one of the types of nymphs. They are essentially what a mortal might call ‘air beings.”
Aarwyn nodded in understanding. Meenah continued, “Aeris is where all the air nymphs live, born out of the clouds. The other sectors include Terra, Aqua, and Ignis.”
“Air, earth, water, and fire?” Aarwyn’s brain clicked in recognition of the four elements in Latin.
“Precisely.”
“The nymphs are beautiful,” Thalia piped in. “Each one with a distinguishable birthmark that represents their sector. And their alliance with Elme Alora makes them extremely powerful beings.”
“Wow,” Aarwyn breathed. “Thank you for explaining. For inviting me here.”
Thalia and Meenah gave her warm smiles, and the weight of mortal Aarwyn’s problems faded away. In Eyuviell, she was not “Aarwyn-who-can’t-get-a-single-story-to-report.” She was not “Aarwyn-the-sad-woman-who-lost-her-father.” She was just Aarwyn. That seemed to be good enough for Meenah, Thalia, and the fae who had cheered for her when she slid down the giant tulip. She only wished it was good enough for her.
≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫
Pixie Hollow was everything from Aarwyn’s magical fairy fantasies as a little girl. After waving good-bye to the boat and walking through a forest that sparkled with colourful flowers, mushrooms, and greenery, they reached Pixie Hollow — the village where all the pixies in Pasella lived, affectionately called “the Hollow” by Thalia. The pixies themselves were creatures of a height similar to that of a seven-year-old child, about four feet or so; they didn’t seem to take up much space.
A strong aura of joy enveloped Aarwyn as she and her companions walked through the bustling Hollow and Thalia greeted everyone who passed them. It seemed so cozy, all the homes built into the hills, with an abundance of beautiful flora and fauna everywhere.
Bursting with excitement at being back in her home kingdom, Thalia’s trail of sparkles seemed to glow a brighter shade of green than Aarwyn had seen yet.
“We’re going to take you to see Mother Mab,” Thalia smiled at Aarwyn. “Pasella doesn’t have a king or queen, but if it did, it would be her. She is the wisest of us all, and the mother of the land, hence her name.”
Mother Mab lived in a cottage on the outskirts of the Hollow, close enough to be able to hear the commotion and keep an eye on everyone, yet just far enough away so that she had a sense of privacy. As Thalia led Aarwyn and Meenah to Mother Mab’s home, Aarwyn noticed many different types of pixies. There were some with wooden stick crowns gathered in the nearby forest; some who looked like Thalia with beautiful crowns of flowers, kneeling in the gardens and caring for crops and flowers; some with rounded steampunk goggles and pebble crowns carrying tack hammers; and even some with sharp-edged wings and crowns of sharp-looking thorns.
In Pixie Hollow, Aarwyn learned from Thalia, each pixie had a role to fill. That’s why the kingdom was so healthy, so blissful, Thalia explained — pixies felt their best when they were doing something purposeful, and so it was part of their everyday life that each pixie helped carry out their required task, which aided in allowing the Hollow, and Pasella as a whole, to flourish. Equally as important was another communal value: all the pixies were kind to one another.
Aarwyn was still in awe over how peaceful this world seemed, or at least how peaceful in comparison to her world, when Mother Mab’s cottage emerged in the distance, or rather, Mother Mab’s tree appeared in the distance. Her home was a large, steady oak tree with hunter-green leaves and a trunk so wide that it fit an arched, light blue wooden door set within it. They walked up the stone path to the oak gate encasing her home, avoiding the tree’s many winding roots as they opened the squeaking gate and entered the garden. Only when they got close enough to knock did Aarwyn realize just how many vines were hanging down, or how many bright flowers sprouted from wooden boxes under the tiny, arched windows that circled the tree.
“Knock, knock!” Thalia exclaimed as she rapped on the blue wood.
A high-pitched, excited bark followed.
“Bellatrix!” A woman’s voice called from behind the door. When it had opened, Aarwyn didn’t have time to greet the woman who must’ve been Mother Mab because a puppy with fur the colour of custard and translucent purple fairy wings came darting out the door, yipping in excitement.
The puppy barreled into Aarwyn, then Meenah, then Thalia, then back to Mother Mab.
“Hi, Bellatrix!” Thalia greeted the puppy, giving her the pets she was begging for.
“Bellatrix!” Mother Mab cried out once more. “Inside, come on now.”
The puppy whined and went back into the treehouse, finding a piece of fluff to chase.
“Hello, my dears,” Mother Mab greeted them. “Please, come in.”
The first thing Aarwyn noticed about Mother Mab was the crown she was wearing atop her head of white hair. It was unlike the crown of any other pixie she had seen in Pixie Hollow so far. It seemed to be a combination of all the pixies’ crowns: it was created from an artful assortment of flowers, sticks, pebbles, and thorns. Perhaps something to represent each type of pixie, Aarwyn thought.
Meenah, Thalia, and Aarwyn headed inside Mab’s home, and Mother Mab’s wedged flats, of the same purple as Bellatrix’s wings, clicked on the floor as she stepped behind them to shut the door.
“Meenah, Thalia,” Mother Mab began, her translucent white butterfly wings fluttering in delight. “How pleasant to see you!”
She may have been old, Aarwyn thought as Mother Mab gave Meenah and Thalia a warm hug, but her ruffled, long-sleeved white dress said that she still had a sense of style and knew it.
Mother Mab’s gaze soon turned to Aarwyn, who towered over the pixie matriarch. It wasn’t that Aarwyn was especially tall, but rather the fact that the pixies were much smaller than she and the other fae.
“Who is this pretty young lady you’ve brought with you?” Mab asked, stepping closer to Aarwyn and squeezing her hands.
“Hi,” Aarwyn smiled, “I’m Aarwyn. Thalia and Meenah brought me here from —”
“The mortal world,” Meenah cut in.
Suddenly, Mother Mab’s eyes widened and went from crinkled in warmth to crinkled in concern and wonder, never having seen a mortal before. Mother Mab turned to Meenah, face serious.
“Is Queen Aelin aware of her presence?”
“No. We brought her to Pasella because it’s where we thought she’d be safest.”
Safest from what? Aarwyn thought.
Mother Mab nodded and she briefly became lost in thought before turning to Aarwyn with a smile again. “Come sit, my dear. I’ve just made a batch of gingersnap cookies and harvested some thornberries for tea.”
Mother Mab led them to her wooden table, placing a delicate pink plate with freshly baked cookies on the table. She brewed a pot of deep red thornberry tea, the steam coating Aarwyn’s face as Mother Mab poured the tea into a speckled mug.
Meenah hummed in delight as she took a sip of the hot tea.
“As good as always,” Meenah sighed as she took a sip.
Eager to try it, Aarwyn brought the steaming mug to her lips. It was hot, but not hot enough to burn her tongue. The thornberry had some tang to it, though the aftertaste was as sweet as honey.
“This is delicious,” Aarwyn acknowledged. “Do you grow the thornberries in your garden, Mother Mab?”
“Oh, I wish it was that simple, dear,” Mother Mab smiled. “Thornberries do not grow, but rather come from the crowns of our thorn pixies.”
Aarwyn recalled seeing the pixies with sharp wings and crowns of thorns earlier as Mother Mab continued her explanation.
“While the thorns remain lethally poisonous when attached to a thorn pixie’s head, they have no effect once they’ve fallen off. They can be collected and boiled, and the berries will grow in the warm water and compress under the heat, dying the water a deep red.”
“What happens to the thorn pixie and its crown?” Aarwyn asked.
“They regrow their thorns and become lethal if touched once more before shedding again two weeks later.”
Nodding, Aarwyn picked up a gingersnap cookie and took a bite as Mother Mab’s attention settled on Meenah and Thalia.
“Did you bring Aarwyn through the portal?”
“Yes,” Meenah replied. “She wanted to see our world, and rest assured that I sensed no danger.”
Mother Mab gave Aarwyn a warm but cautious smile. “Of course. I sense none either, but I fear what may happen should Queen Aelin discover her presence.”
Before Meenah could reply, Aarwyn cut in. “Why?”
Aarwyn winced after the word was out. Interrupting was a bad habit of hers she could never seem to break, her curiosity always getting the best of her.
“Queen Aelin has had quite the hassle to deal with during her time spent ruling, to say the least,” Mother Mab sighed. “Not just because being queen is rightfully a significant role to fill, but she’s also still coping with the loss of her daughter, and the arrogance of Prince Zaos.”
“The heir to the throne,” Meenah supplied.
Nodding, Mother Mab opened her mouth to speak once more. “It remains a mystery in Eyuviell. We do not know what happened to the daughter, the elf princess birthed by Queen Aelin Galanodel, who would have been next in line for the throne. Prince Zaos is to become king, but we all fear he is unfit to rule over Eyuviell. Dangerous, perhaps.”
Brows furrowed in confusion and with her heart aching in empathy for these kind fae sitting around her, Aarwyn wondered aloud. “How so?”
“For one, he is much too arrogant,” Meenah piped in. “He’s lazy and full of himself. Not king material in my book.”
Aarwyn noticed that Thalia was quiet throughout the conversation, never once speaking a word against Prince Zaos. The pixies truly were kind creatures to their core.
“And finding the elf princess…” Aarwyn inquired, “They just gave up?”
“It’s more complicated than that, dear,” Mother Mab shook her head. “A group of elves tried once in the past, without the permission of Queen Aelin, but she shut the expedition down immediately after she heard of it. It seems she has lost all hope of finding her daughter, and so has everyone else.”
Aarwyn was wildly perplexed by the lack of persistence from the Queen, and the thought of all the fae giving up so easily on ensuring their world would end up in the good hands of the elf princess, and not those of the apparently selfish Prince Zaos.
“Don’t worry about it, Aarwyn,” Meenah said, noticing the look on Aarwyn’s face.
“But —”
“That’s all we know, and all we can do, no matter how unfortunate,” Mother Mab told Aarwyn. “Besides, speaking of the long-lost elf princess defies Queen Aelin’s direct orders. Now, tell me about your world.”
After some mindless chit-chat about the mundane qualities of Aarwyn’s world compared to Eyuviell alongside more tea and cookies, Bellatrix was demanding attention again and Meenah needed to get back home to Tayjo, the troll kingdom, before dark.
Thalia offered Aarwyn a place to stay in her burrow, her pixie home, for the night, and Aarwyn graciously accepted. Thanking Mother Mab for her hospitality, Meenah, Thalia, and Aarwyn left Mother Mab’s tree home with fresh licks from Bellatrix on their faces and the spicy tang of ginger lingering in their mouths.
