Chapter Text
Life, green and roaring and vibrant, was such a fragile thing, Pips thought. Thousands of years of slow, steady growth, of a thriving universe held protectively within the embrace of bark and root and grass had been razed to the ground in an instant. Ferngully would take a long time to recover from the fire and poison of Hexxus’s carnage.
Scorched remains still littered the hills as far as Pips could see but he spied here and there the first green sproutings of new life. Without Crysta’s vastly superior magic, the forest would not have rebuilt itself as quickly. The other fairy denizens took it in turns to fly into the most affected areas in groups where they would concentrate their energies into growing small seeds and tufts of grass. No one had Crysta’s abilities—honed for years by Magi Lune to one day become the rainforest’s saving grace—but they did what they could and were more hopeful for it.
Pips had been part of this morning’s re-growing group; they had begun work on reintroducing trees to the southeastern part of Ferngully nearest to the river. Many tree-dwelling creatures counted on the shade by the waters to rest in after slaking their thirsts, and so it had been designated a priority zone. They had left the place slightly greener than it had been this morning, and Crysta would come later to accelerate their groundwork. Pips lagged behind the others, having expended the most energy in a sudden fit of furious determination. It had been a foolish move, of course. The plants wouldn’t grow faster even if he used up all of his magic in one sitting. But Pips had never been one for patience, and exhausted though he was, it made him feel better to have tried.
As he floated above a burned stump, his toes brushed against the jagged splinters and left them cold. He would feel no life thrumming like a heartbeat from those dead roots. The constant pulsing from every stalk, every leaf, and every creak of a branch had uplifted the fairies’ spirits for ages beyond memory. Pips knew that Ferngully’s heart would beat stronger again with time. For now however, he would find solace in the unburnt edges of their home.
He zipped into the thicker underbrush and felt relief as the blurred scenery grew greener the faster he flew. The heart of the fairy sanctuary remained untouched and, as if to counteract Hexxus’s very existence, was thriving more than ever. Every inhabitant had been so adamant in saving their home that they had perhaps gone a little overboard in Pips’s opinion. The sanctuary had not only grown greener than the rest of the rainforest, but each new day brought a fresh batch of flowers blossoming across every available surface of their tree, to the point that they had to pluck a good number out just to be able to move about freely.
When Pips arrived, the Beetle Boys had been rounded on flower-plucking duty and they called him to help the moment he came in sight.
“You know, I would…” he landed on a high branch above them, resting his elbows on his crouched legs and giving them his signature elfish grin. “But you guys are doing such a great job. I wouldn’t want to interrupt your flow!”
“Slacker!” Root shook a fist at him only to be pushed down into a pile of white petals a second later by Stump barreling into him. The boys quickly made a mess of their work as they wrestled each other, scattering the little progress they had made across the branch floor. The commotion was enough to grab the Elder’s attention, and he made short work of giving the Boys an earful.
His mischievous deed done for the day, Pips flew off with a snicker before his friends could accost him. He made his way to his favourite berry-filled tree, intent on spending the afternoon gorging. After all, he had done his job well and he deserved a little reward. Unfortunately, his sanctuary proved not so peaceful upon arrival.
Batty and his cumbersome wingspan were currently taking up most of the space right by the berries. He was sprawled limp across a branch, wheezing profusely. Pips cursed his ill-timing; he debated coming back later so he wouldn’t have to endure whatever gibberish the damn bat would spew at him. But the call of those ripe berries was too strong and Pips was weak when it came to his indulgences. He landed delicately on the very tips of the branch where its fragile stems trembled underneath his weight.
“Do you have to do that here?” he muttered.
Batty pushed his head back so that he was looking at Pips upside down. His tongue was sticking out, fluttering lightly with every long wheeze he took. Pips wrinkled his nose and drew back.
“What’s wrong with you?”
“I can’t take it anymore,” Batty rubbed frantically at his eyes, which were nearly as red as the berries. “The flowers! They’re everywhere in the sanctuary! My allergies are acting up! I haven’t felt this itchy since my uncle Marvin threw me into a termite mound to try and help me build character!” He coughed violently. “Oh, won’t somebody save me from this endless torture! Yikes!”
In his theatrical lament, he had swooned right off the tree but managed to grab onto the branch by his hind claws, swinging upside down in a flurry of rasps.
“Riiiiight,” Pips said. Weirdo.
At the very least, the path to his beloved berries was once again free. He flew over to the nearest cluster and tugged at the biggest one he could find, his mouth already open wide for that first sweet bite.
“I have half a mind to sneak into that human camp and rummage through their things for antihistamines,” Batty moaned and Pips abruptly shut his jaw with a sharp clatter of teeth. “I don’t know if they work on bats, but I’m sure I swallowed worse things in the lab—”
“Where!?” Pips snapped, suddenly right in his face. Batty nearly lost grip on the branch and wheezed out his shock. He clutched at his chest and gave his most dramatic glower. "Geez, are you trying to scare away what sanity I’ve got left?”
“Where are the humans? In the forest?”
“Crysta didn’t tell you? She’s observing them right now at the top of this tree. I’m supposed to keep watch in case anything happens.”
Pips flew up without another word. The wind whipped past his ears in the same blood rush that now thrummed in his veins, shooting fear into every nerve ending in his body. He hoped that Batty was just mumbling nonsense like he always did, but as he broke through the thick layer of leaves that sheltered the berry tree, he saw Crysta. She was floating above the canopy, nearly still save for the incessant fluttering of her wings.
Pips halted next to her, but she made no acknowledgement of his presence, her eyes fixed on something in the distance. Only when he gently touched the small of her back did she finally turn to him.
“Is it true?” he asked, “Are there more humans in the forest?”
She hesitated a moment before giving him a slow nod. “Look over there.”
She pointed to their right, to a place where much of the trees had been felled. There was a clearing of muddy ground, peppered here and there with patchy mounds of dried yellow grass. Pips hadn’t explored that part of the rainforest since its destruction, and was struck by the small moving figures that entered the clearing. They stood among the carnage, their bright clothes shining starkly against the charred, drab background.
Pips’s fear grew, thrumming like a violent swarm in the pit of his stomach. “Why are they back? Is Zag here again? Is he with them?”
Crysta smacked his chest. “It’s Zak. And I don’t know. I haven’t gotten close enough to find out.”
Pips grabbed her arm. “You’re not thinking of going there, are you?”
“I have to.”
“Are you crazy?” he shouted. Crysta frowned at his tone, but Pips had ignored her reproachful looks all his life and he certainly wasn’t about to start now. Not for a threat this serious. “Haven’t they caused enough trouble? We’ve barely gotten the worst of the rainforest to grow again!”
“That’s why I need to go over there, Pips. Maybe they’re good humans like Zak, maybe they aren’t. But we need to find out what they’re doing here.” She wrapped her arms around her waist and closed her eyes, her shoulders sagging considerably. “Magi left me with the responsibility to watch over the rainforest. If we find out what the humans are doing back here, we can be better prepared.”
Pips watched as she slid her fingers down her arms in a slow drag, blunt nails leaving pale white streaks across her skin. It occurred to him then just how draining this had all been for Crysta. She was still so young. Much too young really, to carry the heavy burden that Magi had shouldered for so many years. She didn’t have the same luxuries for idleness that he often thrived in. Burrowing themselves in Ferngully wouldn’t guarantee their safety and if he tried to do just that, he knew she would worry herself into a frenzy before flying off to do something foolish.
“Fine,” he said, “But I’m coming with you. Leave the bat behind though; he’s about as subtle as a rampaging hog.”
Crysta beamed and grabbed his hand, pulling him with surprising strength. Pips let her drag him even as he wondered whether he had just made a mistake, but her enthusiasm wasn’t something to fight against, as he had learned long ago.
They quietly landed on a tree just above the humans and huddled together under the shade. Now that they were up close, the little group’s voices rang loudly across the clearing; or rather, the smallest of them was causing a good amount of fuss while the others tried to shush her. A human child, Pips guessed. She was being placated by her parents, while the other standing a few steps away was—
“Zak!” Crysta whispered in excitement, “It’s him! He’s back!”
“Great,” Pips said flatly.
Zak was peering up at the sky, one hand flung over his eyes to shield them from the sun. He was wearing the same bright blue clothes as before, and stuck out sorely against the earthy clearing. Complete bait for any wandering predator had he been shrunk to fairy size again, Pips thought. Humans really had no sense of self-preservation.
The others said something to him and he nodded once before they disappeared into the trees. He remained in the clearing, his head darting this way and that, searching for something.
Pips stood up and dusted off his petal skirt. “Well, now that we know it’s him, we’ve got nothing to worry about. So why don’t we just—Hey!”
Crysta had shot out of their hiding spot before he had even finished and made a beeline for Zak, doing the exact thing he'd dreaded she would.
“Zak!” she circled around the human’s head, calling out to him with a joy Pips hadn’t heard from her in a long time.
Zak’s eyes went cross-eyed from trying to keep up with the little red blur. He quickly shook his head and refocused his vision and once they were face to face, he beamed.
“Crysta! I’ve been looking for you. Well… actually, I was hoping you’d find me.” He cupped his hands and held them out for her to land on. His smile was bright and much, much too big for Pips’ liking. His teeth were blindingly white, almost the size of his favourite berries. He floated close, arms crossed in his signature standoffish pose as Zak turned that unsettlingly large smile on him. “Good to see you too, shrimp.”
“Right back at ya, you hairy mountain,” Pips replied. He landed on the very tip of Zak’s right index finger and bounced on it a few times.
“What are you doing back here?” Crysta’s smile faded as she glanced at the direction the other humans had gone. “Is everything alright?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah! Yeah, those were my parents and my little sister. I brought them here to show them what’s happened.” Zak also dropped his smile, the corners of his mouth tightening. “People need to see the destruction that... well, that I helped cause. If they can see it with their own eyes, it might help them better understand why things need to change.”
“I’m so happy to hear that!” Crysta exclaimed. She leaned forward in his hands, gazing up at his large face with an almost painful earnestness. “How long will you be here for?”
Zak hesitated a moment before replying: “Just for the afternoon. My dad’s taking some photos of the rainforest for documentation.”
“Oh…” Crysta’s wings drooped behind her. “Of course.”
They lapsed into a sad silence, leaving Pips to fume from his precarious perch. He wasn’t even sure why he was so angry; Crysta understood that Zak’s place was with his own, that his time among them had been fleeting no matter how enchanting it had been for the both of them. Perhaps he sympathized with her pain of having feelings that would never grow into something more. He still ached sometimes whenever they were alone together, his heart clinging onto vain hope. But Crysta had always known what she wanted, and much as she loved Pips, it was not the kind of love that would blossom into a mating. He’d accepted it now, just as he'd believed she had accepted Zak’s departure as well. But his return had re-opened that wound, and perhaps that was what irritated him so. He hated seeing her hurt, the sort that couldn’t be soothed by ointment or words.
Pips cleared his throat, determined to break the awkward silence. “Well, we’ve been hard at work regrowing the forest. It’s taking less time than it would normally thanks to Crysta’s magic. As long as you haven’t brought another of those giant tree devourers with you…” His eyes narrowed. “Or did you?”
“Wh—Dude, no!” Zak emphatically shook his head, “I don’t even have a license to drive one of those things. And I spoke to my bosses about—hey!”
Pips had left his hand and zipped behind him, satisfied with Zak’s simple “no”. He didn’t need to understand the human specifics beyond that. There was, however, something else that piqued his interest.
“What’s this?” he poked at the giant purple thing on Zak’s back. “What’re you hiding in there?”
“Pips, don’t pry!” Crysta chided him.
“Nah, it’s cool. It’s my sister’s backpack.” Zak slid it off his shoulders and dropped it on the ground. “She got tired of carrying it around and made me take it.”
Pips ran his hand over the bright images of happy winged animals that dotted the backpack’s surface. “Hm. Doesn’t look any sturdier than the bags we make.”
“But it’s much bigger!” Crysta exclaimed, flying over to him so she could also examine it. “Look, it’s got more pouches than a kangaroo!” She tapped on one of them, her big eyes shining with ever-present curiosity.
“Sure, it looks big to you. But this is a kid’s backpack. It’s been cutting into my shoulders for the last hour. Man, what does she keep in there?” Zak rummaged inside of it and pulled out what looked like a flat square stone.
“What’s this?” Crysta landed on it once it had been set on the ground, leaning forward. She gasped and looked up at Zak. “It has a fairy on it!”
Pips peered at the thing over her shoulder. There was indeed a very detailed image of a fairy dressed in bright colours. It was like someone had taken a real fairy and squashed him until he had flattened against the stone. He was holding hands with a wingless girl.
“It’s a book,” Zak explained, “A storybook. This one’s… well, it’s a fairytale. It tells a story.”
“How can a story be a thing?” Pips sneered, “A story isn’t something you can touch, it’s something you tell to others.”
“It’s… look.” Zak peeled open a layer of the so-called book; Pips and Crysta shot up in surprise as he revealed the insides of the storything. “See? It’s got words and pictures to tell the story.”
The two fairies cautiously landed back on the book, this time standing among flat white hills covered in dark marks and more strange images. Pips traced a round black loop with his toe, face scrunched up in confusion while Crysta pressed her palm into a symbol that looked like a long branch.
“What are these markings?” she asked.
“They’re letters,” Zak replied, “You know, to make words?” He was met with blank stares. “You guys don’t know how to read? Crap. Um, how do I explain this?” He rubbed at the back of his neck, wrinkling his nose in thought. “Well, humans sort of made these symbols up so they could, y’know. Communicate without having to talk.”
“Why?” Pips asked.
Zak bristled. “I dunno, man! We just did! Look, these letters form words that we read. And they help to tell a story.”
Crysta’s wings perked up. “Like how we can read a tree’s rings to find out their life story!”
“Yeah, sorta like that.”
Pips pointed at the image on the right where the wingless girl sat bathed in moonlight as the fairy flew above her. “So what’s this story about? I’m dying to know how many things about us you humans got wrong.” He spoke the last part in a snicker.
“I don’t remember, I haven’t read this since I was little.” Zak flipped through the white leaves until he was at the very first one. “It’s called Thumbelina.”
“Will you tell it to us?” Crysta implored.
Zak pinched his lips, glancing back at the direction his parents had left. “Um. Sure, I guess. It’s pretty short.” He ran his finger underneath the first line of words and recited them: “Once upon a time, there was a lonely woman—”
“Why aren’t the people moving?” Pips interrupted and Zak dropped his finger with a loud sigh.
“Dude. They’re just pictures. They’re not real.”
Pips puffed out the air from his cheeks. “Well that’s no fun.”
“Alright then, genius. Why don’t you use your magic to make them move?”
“Our magic only works on living things,” Crysta chimed in, “Like trees and fairies and humans.”
“Well, technically paper comes from trees,” Zak said, pinching one of the thin white sheets, “Maybe they’re still alive.”
Pips and Crysta looked at each other before glancing down at the book. What strange sort of tree could possibly produce such a thing?
“I don’t think we should be using magic unless it’s important…” Crysta said uncertainly.
“It couldn’t hurt,” Pips told her, “It’d make the pictures more interesting.”
Crysta looked up at Zak, who shrugged in response. It was a juvenile request to be sure, and she couldn’t have been surprised that Pips made it. Really, he had just wanted to take a jab at another of Zak’s human oddities, but from the way Crysta chewed the inside of her lip, she was clearly considering it. Even though she had taken on the mantle of Magi’s legacy, caution could still be thrown to the wind if her curiosity was great enough.
She placed her arms out, palms facing the pictures and took a moment to think up the words. “Images still as the water’s surface,” she slowly recited, “Come to life and act out your purpose!”
Her hands glowed a bright blue, flashing a direct current to the page until the entire book trembled. Pips’s legs wobbled and he flung out his hands to steady himself, slapping them right against the image of the fairy. He watched the picture's neck slowly crane from right to left. One by one, each part of him detached from its original spot and began to sway.
“It’s working!” Pips exclaimed. His hand never left the page’s surface and swiftly followed the fairy’s hand to where it stretched out. Suddenly, he felt it grip onto him with unimaginable strength and before he could utter a sound, he was being pulled face first into the page. He squeezed his eyes shut before the impact, but none came save for a freezing blast that whipped across his face, chilling every inch of his skin and trickling down his spine. The last thing he heard was the distant echo of Crysta’s yell before he faded.