Chapter Text
The island was dying. That was the fact of it. It was as if the darkness was a terrible beast that was ever hungry. It first devoured Mermaid Cove, then moved inland. The beast surrounded the island, trapping it in its dark claws.
Everything and everyone that had some semblance of self-preservation left or disappeared. It began on the coasts. Leaves dissolved into bark, the trunks of massive trees sinking down into the ground. Grass retreated into the earth. The animals burrowed deep, getting ready to wait the siege out and the sky was turning gray like a murky soup made of dishwater.
The mermaids were the first to leave. They went down to the depths of the seas and into great caves. Then the Indians, then the Lost Boys. They sailed away to unknown places, not placed on any map.
The fairies stayed the longest. Everyone was packing and getting ready to leave. The spring and summer fairies were packing their paint and brushes. The tinkers were packing hammers and other tools. The winter fairies were busy preparing themselves for crossing the border and frosting all provisions and fairy wings. Queen Clarion was wrapping a sapling taken from the Pixie Dust Tree. Each fairy was hurrying before the Darkening hit.
“Quickly everybody. We need to get out of here. It’s getting worse.”
Tinkerbell was flying around, helping every season to fill baskets and wagons. Each minister was gathered at the Pixie Dust Tree, each lending their talent to the tree.
Soon every fairy was gathered. Queen Clarion’s three lights arrived with little fanfare. It wasn’t a time for reverence. The earth shook violently, like it was warning them, urging them to leave. The wind tugged at wings and sent what few leaves were left flying. The ministers’ talents were slowly combining and swirling into a portal.
The mountains surrounding their home began to shake and crumble. The Darkness was upon them. Gasps of fear told Tinkerbell all she needed to know. The portal was open and Queen Clarion ushered everyone through as quickly as they could go. She sent a portion of the scouts through first to make sure nothing was there to surprise the fairies. Nobody knew where the portal led, but it had to be infinitely better than being utterly destroyed. One by one, all the seasons and progressions went through. Lord Milori and his owl went last.
The light of the portal stretched and pulled Tinkerbell and her friends, taking them through the blur of color. She felt as if she was being stretched to her limit and then compressed and scrunched into the smallest jars the tinkers made. It seemed that she was being torn apart. The colors bled together, forming a constantly changing watercolor. The light grew brighter, overwhelming all the color that she could see, replacing it with blinding white.