Archive of Our Own ^beta

CHAPTER 1

The bell at Piltover Academy rang, sharp and shrill, and students poured from classrooms into the corridor, not wasting even a second to be rid of school. The bright ribbons in braids, scuffed boots clapping marble, boys shoving at one another and laughing too loudly, girls muttering to themselves and giggling. The school had a purpose but the children did not care about it. For them the bigger thing was the fact that they were free. The school yard was now their territory where their friendship bloomed. So all the kids were excited. Well… almost all of them.

Caitlyn stayed pressed against the wall, clutching her books to her chest like they might shield her from the noise. Once the last of the kids ran off she slowly got up. She adjusted her skirt, and then capped her pen shut. She placed it into its designated spot in her metallic instrument box. Then the box slid into its designated compartment inside her leather bag. Then finally, the books were arranged in ascending order of size and placed into the book compartment of her bag. 

As she slowly walked out of the classroom, she saw many faces, but none saw her. No one looked at her. No one ever looked at her. The only ones who did were some of the sweeter and kinder teachers or staff members. When she passed by she would bow her head and greet them as per the proper manners and etiquette. In theory they were supposed to help her be a better member of society and become a meaningful person with good social connections and presence. But so far, it hadn’t worked. She had no friends. Aside from her parents and maybe Jayce, no one even smiled at her mostly. 

It wasn’t that she was afraid of the kids and didn’t want friends. Oh no. She wanted friends, she wanted connection, she wished to be as eager to get out of class and run to the playground with the kids. But it was easier said than done. As she walked the cobbled path of the Academy ground, watched students run around, climb the jungle gyms and slide down the other assortment of equipment, she couldn’t help but feel envy. 

She kept her chin up anyway. That was what her mother had taught her. “If you cannot belong, at least look like you do.” But it was getting harder and harder to do so, because each day it became more and more apparent that she did not belong anywhere. Even pretending so, now felt like a losing battle. She saw the long shape of her family car, the Kiramman crest gleaming in the glow of the afternoon sun.

Once seated inside, she caught sight of her reflection in the window of the car: thin, pale, with dark blue hair, and equally beautiful eyes. Her hair color matched with the blues of her school uniform which itself was complemented by the whites of the same. She looked precise and perfect. As a Kiramman should, but perhaps more than that, she looked like someone who was trying very hard not to look lonely.

The faint mechanical noise of Piltover hummed outside; gears, whistles and sirens, but she didn’t care about any of it. She just wanted to be home. Jayce was due to return today, and she could spend some time with perhaps the only human who understood her. It wasn’t much, a fifteen year old girl should not really be keeping a twenty-one year old man as her sole friend but she did not have other options. So she waited to reach home soon. 

Ruffles met her at the porch, as he always did, barreling toward her in a blur of golden fur and delighted barking the moment she stepped out of the car. The retriever licked her cheek and then bolted back towards the interior of the mansion itself, where she saw Jayce… getting ready to leave. Her heart stooped low like a dive bombing eagle. 

“Jayce… where are you going??” She asked, her voice laced with uncertain confusion.

Jayce looked at her, he appeared unhappy. She did not like it. He picked up his trunks and walked towards her, setting them aside and kneeling down. He looked into her eyes, then with two fingers, gently caressed her cheek. 

“Sorry Sprout, I… I… I can’t stay this weekend. My services are being-” 

SCREEECH!!!  

Caitlyn whipped her head around. She saw a car park itself on the porch. She looked back and Jayce cupped her face. “But you promised me that you will be here all weekend” 

“They need more mechanics on the frontlines… I… I’ll be back soon okay?” Jayce said

Caitlyn simply nodded. The emotions inside her begged her to cry and scream and plead with him to stay and not leave. But her emotions were locked up deep inside, leaving only the stoic emotionless face of someone who is looking at the broader scale. 

“Be safe… and write as often as you can,” she said. Jayce fought back the tears in his eyes as he leaned forward and hugged her. She hugged him back and then, he was gone.

The warm golden light of the setting sun wrapped the garden in a scenic beauty formed by the auric hue of the sunlight and the light shadows it cast. The golden fur of the retriever danced in the serene environment as he ran back towards Caitlyn with the red squishy ball in his mouth.

“You’re the only one left for me to play with now Ruff,” she muttered as she knelt to ruffle his ears as he dropped the ball into her other hand. Ruffles licked her hand in the process, then sat back, eager for Caitlyn to throw the toy. 

“Fine. Go long for me,” she said, smiling faintly despite herself, and throwing the ball into the garden. Ruffles bolted after it like a blur, zooming into the shrubs and bushes of the rows and rows of violets in the garden.  

The garden was quiet and cool this time of day, the shadows of the statues stretching long across the grass and marble. Beyond the walls, the rest of Piltover hummed with the distant sound of machines and faint sirens but here, the air smelled of damp earth, wet grass and violets.

Her mother planted more of them every spring, deep purple blooms, clinging stubbornly in clusters at the base of the walls. They were her mother’s favorite. She said that they are Caitlyn’s birth flower. As such they are a symbol of good luck for Caitlyn. That the violets would protect her and keep her safe. 

Ruffles, however, had no respect for the violets. So when it took him some time to return back with the ball it scared her. She could already envision the dog snuffling through the flowers, digging at the soil with his front paws or whatever else he does.

“Ruffles!! Ruffles where did you go?? C’mere boy!!” She called out as she traversed the vast garden in the direction of the dog. She soon saw him, he was trampling on a bed of flowers and clawing and barking at what appeared to be a crack on the brick wall of her house. 

“Ruffles!” Caitlyn marched across the grass. “Stop that, you beast! you’ll ruin them!”

But Ruffles ignored her. Instead, he suddenly shoved his entire head into the flowers, snorting and pawing and… growling?

That was new.

“Ruffles?” Caitlyn frowned and crouched beside him.

At first she thought he’d found a mouse or perhaps a beetle, something small and wriggly. But no — this was something else entirely. Ruffles was growling, yes, but also… whimpering? His tail wagged furiously but his back legs kept dancing like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to retreat or charge forward.

“Let go,” Caitlyn said firmly, grabbing his collar and trying to tug him back.

He refused. Instead, the arrogant dog clamped his jaw shut and began shaking his head violently, as though he’d caught something in his teeth and was determined to either chew it or kill it outright. Whatever was inside the crack was now inside his mouth.

“Ruffles!” Caitlyn yanked harder. And then she heard it, the faintest, most furious little voice, muffled and almost comically high-pitched, it sounded… human?? Caitlyn froze.

“Ruffles,” she whispered, eyes wide, “what’s in your mouth?”

Ruffles whined through his clenched jaws but still refused to let go, his cheeks bulging comically as something inside wriggled and kicked and to Caitlyn’s complete horror, whatever was inside was fighting back hard enough that his whole head jerked.

That decided it. Caitlyn grabbed his snout with both hands, forced his jaws open with a grunt of effort, and when he finally yelped and released something pink and shining tumbled out onto the grass, coughing and flailing.

Caitlyn gawked. It wasn’t a mouse. Or a bug. Or even anything she had words for to describe something that would fit inside the mouth of a dog. It was… a girl.

No bigger than Caitlyn’s pinky finger, with wild pink hair, some kind of weird clothes and an expression so furious it could have melted glass. The tiny girl scrambled upright, shook a fist at Ruffles, and shouted, in a voice so small Caitlyn barely caught it:

“You…. fight….overgrown….Next….Mazeltov?!”

Ruffles, unbothered, just wagged his tail and licked his chops. Caitlyn blinked her eyes harder to see if she was imagining things. The little human planted her hands on her hips, turned on Caitlyn, and started yelling something else, but it was so fast and so high-pitched that Caitlyn could only make out bits and pieces.

“…ruined everything… wings soaked… stupid mutt…”

She crouched lower, straining to listen.

“…WET, you dum…”

Caitlyn blinked. “Wait. Wet?”

The girl finally paused, narrowed her eyes at Caitlyn as if finally acknowledging she had half a brain, then pointed furiously at her wings. Caitlyn glanced closer, WINGS!! delicate, translucent wings, and they were indeed drooping and slick with Ruffles’s saliva.

“Oh,” Caitlyn murmured, fumbling for her pocket. She pulled out a small, neatly folded handkerchief and offered it between two fingers. She didn’t have the faintest idea what was happening, and matter of fact, she believed she was dreaming. 

The girl snatched it without a word, flopped down on the grass, and began drying herself off with the smallest, most indignant grumbles Caitlyn had ever heard. It was like watching a baby fight a bedsheet. The girl was squirming around in it to wash off the saliva. When she finished, she shoved the somewhat soggy handkerchief back into Caitlyn’s fingers and, without so much as a thank-you, marched toward the cluster of violet flowers nearby.

Caitlyn watched, dumbfounded, as the little figure attempted to climb the stem of one, her tiny boots, at least Caitlyn believed they were boots, slipping and catching as she hauled herself upward with furious determination.

“Do you…” Caitlyn hesitated, then slowly reached out a finger. “…need help?”

The fairy scowled over her shoulder at her but didn’t say no. Caitlyn gently scooped her up and set her down on the open blossom of the largest violet.

The fairy stood there, her wings shimmering faintly in the late sun, and with one last fiery glare at Ruffles, who was now lying belly-down and wagging innocently with his head placed firmly on the grass. She spread her wings and leapt into the air. The faintest shimmer of pink light trailed after her as she disappeared over the garden wall.

Caitlyn remained crouched in the grass, staring after her, heart hammering. Her fingers still smelled faintly of violets and something faintly metallic she couldn’t name. She rubbed her eyes and let out a weak laugh.

She was losing her mind. She was absolutely, definitely, completely going insane. 

"All grown-ups were once children... but only few of them remember it."
— Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince

CHAPTER 2

“Hyperactive Imagination” 

That was the term her mother used to describe what she told her. And it made sense. After all, most sane humans would think tiny finger sized humans with insect like wings, was indeed the result of a child’s imagination. And Cait believed it. Maybe the suspicious pink marks on her handkerchief were a coincidence. Maybe Ruffle’s mouth was indeed just hurt by some tiny critter that was not a human. Yeah, Jayce had left and she was sad. That’s all there is to it. In her sadness she imagined things. 

Caitlyn finished dinner and returned to her bedroom. It made no sense to fuzz about things like tiny cute pink haired girls with wings. She was a Kiramman, she had more important stuff to do. Like homework. The door to her room creaked open. Caitlyn turned to her desk, sat down, opened her textbook and notebook and took out her favourite fountain pen and sat ready. 

“(a + b) 2 = a 2 + b 2 + 2ab” she said as she read from her textbook, jotting it down on the notebook and applying it to the problem. It had been a few long minutes by now. She had already finished history and english, math was the last remaining one. Her mind was now totally free of thoughts about tiny human beings and more filled with thoughts about tiny math problems. 

“Okay seriously who buys 40 watermelons? And why does this formula exist?” 

Her train of frustrated thoughts were halted when she heard her mother enter the room, the door creaking just a bit. “Honey? Can I come in? I got you some snacks” 

Caitlyn turned around to see her mother’s shadow by the door. “Come in, mother,” she said, as the door opened further and her mother walked in, holding a tray with a glass lid, revealing 6 handcrafted strawberry cupcakes. With Vanilla frosting and a single red cherry topping on each. This was a rarity. No snacks after dinner after all. 

"What's the occasion?” Caitlyn asked

Her mother smiled, setting the treats on a table beside Caitlyn’s bookshelf. She turned to look at her daughter. “It’s nothing, I was just concerned, you know. I know neither of us are around long enough to be with you, and… Jayce was filling our shoes in many ways. I just… I just want you to know we love you okay?” 

Caitlyn felt a small warmth inside her little heart. She smiled and nodded. “I love you too” She said as she got out of the chair and walked over to hug her mom. She felt her mom press a delicate kiss on her forehead and step back. Cassandra ruffled her daughter’s hair lightly and stepped back. “Sleep well okay, and don’t waste time thinking of tiny humans”

Caitlyn watched her mother leave and let out a sigh. She looked at the cupcakes and walked back to her desk to finish the last of work. But then, she saw something. Caitlyn looked up at the table upon which her treats rested and she was 100% sure she saw something move. Something distinctively pink. She froze, one hand still resting on her open notebook, the nib of her fountain pen drying mid-sentence.

It had to be her. Caitlyn, as quiet as humanly plausible, got out of her chair and crawled closer to the table, then she slowly peeked up. She popped her head up to her eyes over the edge of the table. Looking like a rabbit peeking out from its burrow. She saw it. She saw HER . Same glassy-metallic wings, same pink hair and glow, same tiny limbs and same squeaky voice. The little thing was trying to lift the glass lid of the tray. With considerable effort too.

Caitlyn blinked, and said. “Hello.”

The girl landed with a tiny plap! on the furnished mahogany wood of the table. She quickly scrambled up, flying a few inches above the table and landing back down before screaming at Caitlyn. Once again, it was hard to make out what the little thing was saying, so she listened closer. She made out some of the words.

“Scared….creepy….fight….” 

“I was going to eat those,” Caitlyn muttered, assuming that the girl thought she wasn't going to do so. She heard the small human growling something, it might’ve been a curse, and tried again to lift the glass lid, wings fluttering erratically from the strain.

“You know I could just lift it for you.”

She was ignored

“Hello!”

Still nothing. Caitlyn sighed, stood up, and gently popped the dome off. The girl stumbled forward and caught herself with both hands in a heap of frosting. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and looked up at Caitlyn as if nothing had happened.

“I wasn’t struggling,” she mumbled. Or at least Caitlyn thought that’s what she mumbled based on her body language.

Caitlyn sat on the bed’s edge, plucked a crumb from the edge of a cupcake, and offered it. “What’s your name? I’m Caitlyn.”

The girl grabbed it like a raccoon hoarding treasure, dropped down to sit cross-legged beside the treat on the pillow of Caitlyn’s bed, and began chewing. It was surreal, Caitlyn thought, watching something barely the size of her thumb munch through cake with the attitude of someone twice her own height. 

“You didn’t answer what your name is” Caitlyn said as she now laid flat on her stomach to observe the little creature closer. She didn’t say it aloud. But, she didn’t want her guest to leave. She wanted to learn more about this…. Person??

The little girl looked up, and said something. Cait didn’t catch what she said, so she leaned closer. The girl set down the cake and flew up, she hovered near Caitlyn’s ears, making Caitlyn feel the wind from the wing flaps. Caitlyn could hear much more clearly now. 

“My…. Name… is…. Vi”

“Vi? That’s your name?” Caitlyn asked, to which the little girl placed her hands on her hips and nodded her head exaggeratedly.

Vi floated down to the cupcake and began munching on it. Caitlyn moved a tad bit closer. “So… are you like a fairy or something?” Caitlyn asked, her curiosity peaking. Vi didn’t give a verbal reply, not that it would have worked much, especially considering the effort it took just to learn her name. Instead the fairy simply nodded.

Vi finished her crumb, dusted her hands, and looked around the room with a faint sniff. She walked across the nightstand like a tourist inspecting an unimpressive rental, making a face at a pencil holder and kicking at the corner of Caitlyn’s pocket watch. It looked like she was searching for something.

Then the door creaked again. Ruffles. His big golden snout pushed into the room slowly, suspiciously. He took one look at Vi and paused, ears folding, tail already preparing to wag if allowed. Vi immediately stood up and shouted something in his direction. Caitlyn could tell it was angry. She could hear the emotion in the tone, sharp, spiky and indignant. They came out like a rapid flutter of high-pitched sound, airy syllables too faint to make out, like the echo of a whisper bouncing inside a tin can.

Vi pointed at Ruffles, then at herself, then possibly mimed choking his throat with a rope. Ruffles slinked further into the room, keeping low, his giant body moving inch by inch, cautiously hopeful.

“Hey,” Caitlyn whispered, “he’s not going to bite you again.”

Vi turned to her and launched into another miniature tirade, pacing across the nightstand, fists clenched.

“Wait, say that again?” Caitlyn leaned closer. “Did you say ‘barking war machine’ or… wait… ‘sparkling door routine’?!”

Vi slapped a palm to her face.

“I can’t hear you,” Caitlyn said, more frustrated now. “Like, I can hear you, but you sound like a  mosquito, fighting a hurricane, in a wind chime.”

Vi groaned and flopped backward into a discarded cupcake wrapper, one wing twitching.

“I want to understand you,” Caitlyn muttered, more to herself than anything. “You show up, eat my food, threaten my dog, and... I think you called me a ‘wet biscuit’ now. Either that or a ‘shit posh cunt’ Which, if you did, then super rude thing to say okay”

Vi sat up, arms draped over her knees, wings slowly folding behind her. Caitlyn leaned on her elbow beside the nightstand, chin resting in her hand. Then she saw the fairy glow brighter. She flew off and rested on Caitlyn’s book. Caitlyn followed. Vi circled over the English essay she had just written. Caitlyn took it out and examined it. The fairy then began to point to words on the page. 

“Missing. Check. His. Mouth”

Caitlyn’s eyes sparked with recognition. ‘You mean you think something of yours is in Ruffle’s mouth?” 

The fairy nodded, glowing brighter now. She gestured to her neck again. The same gesture which Caitlyn had previously assumed meant ‘choke your dog’ probably meant ‘Necklace in his mouth,’ Caitlyn walked to the dog and turned to Vi. 

“You mean Necklace?” Caitlyn asked, to which Vi gave two exaggerated thumbs up and a big smile. 

Caitlyn sat cross legged on the floor and asked Ruffles to come over. The dog obeyed and sat in front of Caitlyn. Caitlyn gently opened his mouth and peered in under the light of the lamp. The fairy girl wasted no time and dove in, Ruffles, to his credit, did not bite. A few seconds later, Vi snatched something from between two of Ruffle’s teeth and flew out. Caitlyn gave the dog a cupcake as a treat and returned to focus on Vi. 

Vi was furiously rubbing the necklace on Caitlyn’s bedsheet before wearing it. She then flew in front of the mirror and then turned to face Ruffles, she blew her tongue at him before flying off. But then Caitlyn called after her. 

“You can barge in whenever you like, you know. I don’t mind. I’d like to know you better.”

Vi blinked at her. Then she nodded before flying off. Caitlyn stared at her, smiling faintly. Then sighed. 

Over the days, Vi stopped by each night for snacks and games. Games primarily involved playing fetch with Ruffles or attempting to guess what Vi was saying. It wasn’t much but it was fun to a degree. Vi was particularly good at Hide-and-Seek, due to being small and all, But Caitlyn soon began to look for faint pink glows to track her.  

Vi was, in every imaginable way, a chaos storm. But she was company. A presence. Not a maid who tiptoed around her, not a parent who looked through her, and certainly not the girls at school who never invited her into their conversations. Vi didn’t ask questions. She didn’t expect perfect posture or polished grammar. She just barged in and acted like she belonged. Caitlyn found it… comforting. But they still had one problem, Caitlyn could not hear her properly. 

Caitlyn’s feet clapped against the cold tiles of the school library as she made her way towards the tall bookshelves. She eyed one book in particular; Labelled: “ADVANCED ACOUSTICS AND SOUND ENGINEERING”

“I really, really need to figure out how to hear her properly.”

"We’re all a little weird. And life’s a little weird. And when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall in mutual weirdness."
— Dr. Seuss

CHAPTER 3

The next morning, Caitlyn was awake before the bell rang. She’d barely slept, her mind kept replaying the sight of Vi sprawled in the crater of a cupcake wrapper, pink hair stuck to her cheek, wings faintly twitching, and her strange, musical little voice hissing and chirping at Ruffles.  And Caitlyn, for all her cleverness, hadn’t understood a single word. It gnawed at her.

She sat at her desk now, pyjamas only halfway buttoned, staring at the clutter of books and papers she’d dragged down from the shelves in the library. Sound-wave charts. Even a children’s book about sea shells and how they carried whispers if you held them to your ear. She had decided, somewhere between three and four in the evening yesterday, that she was going to fix this.

If she couldn’t make Vi louder, then she’d make herself better at listening.

Later, after another day of school spent mostly staring at the blackboard and scribbling strange calculations in the margins of her notes, she ducked into her father’s study. The room smelled of metal and disinfectants, full of glass cabinets with delicate tools and shelves lined with velvet boxes of brass and copper parts. Her eyes landed on the old stethoscope immediately. It hung neatly from a hook above the doctor’s bag her father hadn’t touched in years.

Carefully, she lifted it down. The rubber tubing was still supple, the chestpiece cool and heavy in her palm. She turned it over, tracing the edge of the diaphragm. Sound was just vibration, after all. And vibration could be caught and carried and amplified, if you were clever enough. By the time she was back in her room, she’d already sketched out a plan on the back of an essay draft.

That evening, Caitlyn sat cross-legged on her bed, tongue caught between her teeth as she worked. The stethoscope lay disassembled in her lap, earpieces, tubing, chestpiece, a few screws she had almost dropped down the crack between the floorboards. She’d lengthened the tubing, created a small hollow “bell” at the end, and reinforced the diaphragm with a thinner, more sensitive foil. Then she’d coiled the tubing in a way that allowed her to rest the bell easily on the table while the other end fed straight into her ear. 

Lastly, she inserted a thin metal wire made from stainless steel she found in her father’s study and carefully inserted into the stethoscope tubing. It was the primary source of sound transmission. Ruffles sat nearby watching her, head cocked, every so often letting out a disapproving grunt. When she was finished, she held it up triumphantly.

“Alright,” she said aloud, as much to herself as to the room, “if this doesn’t work, I don’t know what will.”

She didn’t have to wait long to test it.

At exactly the same impossible hour she always did, Vi darted in through the crack of the window without knocking. The tiny menace was back, and with exactly the amount of ceremony Caitlyn had come to expect from her. Which was none at all. She zipped once around the chandelier, kicked off a bookshelf to redirect herself, and came to an indignant hover above Caitlyn’s nightstand. The tiny fairy zipped down next to the nightstand, dumped her boots off her feet like she owned the place, and immediately made herself at home on the edge of Caitlyn’s ink blotter.

But she stopped when she saw the contraption lying there. Vi tilted her head at it, suspicious. Then she jabbed a finger at Caitlyn and jabbed another at the stethoscope.

“Yes,” Caitlyn said, grinning faintly. “It’s for you.”

Vi raised an eyebrow and said something. Caitlyn quickly slipped the earpieces in and gingerly set the bell on the blotter as close to Vi as she could without squashing her. The tubing trembled faintly, and suddenly the faint chiming whistle of Vi’s voice poured into her ears.

“Wow Cupcake... I see you've been busy”

Caitlyn nearly toppled backward in surprise. Her heart was hammering. She could hear her. The words were still faint, but they were words. Clear, tangible and legible words. Caitlyn leaned closer, eyes wide.

“Say something else.”

Vi rolled her eyes and plopped down on the blotter.

“I said,” she drawled, “you finally figured something out. Nice work.”

Caitlyn laughed, softly, almost giddy, and dropped her chin into her hand, staring at her unlikely neighbor. “You’re welcome,” she said.

Vi smirked faintly and kicked her feet over the edge of the paper. “You’re still weird,” she added. Caitlyn grinned wider. “Maybe,” she said. “But now I can hear you call me that properly.”

The next few days became a strange kind of ritual.

Every afternoon after school, Caitlyn would slip away from the clamor of the house and shut herself in her room. By the time she set her bag down and loosened her collar, Vi would already be there, perched on the windowsill or sprawled on the nightstand like she owned the place. It amazed Caitlyn how quickly she’d come to expect her. And how easily she’d gotten used to her impossible and illogical existence.

That evening, Caitlyn found Vi sitting cross-legged atop the table, wings folded neatly, her hair barely fluttering in the wind. The stethoscope bell was already waiting on the desk. Caitlyn slipped the earpieces in without ceremony. The two had been making a few modifications to it. To make it more refined and capable.

“…’Bout time you got here,” Vi’s voice crackled faintly in her ears. “I was about to eat both your cupcakes just to spite you.” Vi said, referring to the secret stash of cupcakes Caitlyn stole from the kitchen for them to eat in private.

Caitlyn rolled her eyes, smiling despite herself. “I see your patience hasn’t improved.”

Vi smirked, leaning back on her elbows. “So what do you have in mind for today? Cupcake”

She sat in her chair and rested her chin on her hands. “Tell me more about… you,” she said finally. “Where do you come from? What are you? You said you are a fairy or something”

Vi plucked a handful of cupcake frostings and twirled it between her fingers.

“That’s right,” she said after a moment. “Just one kind, I am a Bloom fairy, we care for the growth and blooming of the flowers and plants.”

“Whaaatt?? You never told me you can do that!!” Caitlyn exclaimed, partly annoyed. “What other secrets have you been keeping from me?”

“I mean, it’s a simple job, and it’s an easy job. Not as gruesome as the job of the bone fairies” Vi said, now balancing along the edge of Caitlyn’s slender fingers like a rope walker.

“Bone fairies? You mean Tooth fairies?” Caitlyn asked

“Eh.. kinda, you see tooth fairies are young bone fairies. They have to practice decomposing teeth before they can start working on bones” Vi said as a matter of fact. “And I mean, hey it’s not a pretty work but without them, everyone will be drowning in bones”

Caitlyn’s eyes widened, her expression shifting from annoyance to pure fascination. A soft gasp escaped her lips as she leaned in closer, marveling at the tiny fairy balanced on her fingertips. “That’s... actually incredible,” she whispered, her voice tinged with wonder. “I never imagined there was a whole system like that behind the scenes. Bone fairies, Bloom fairies… Vi, this is like a whole hidden world!” She blinked, as if trying to absorb it all. 

“It is… you humans have no clue of any of it.”

“So where are you family?” Caitlyn asked after a few moments of pondering Violet’s words. 

“Huh? What do you mean?” Vi asked, as if caught off guard by the question.

“Your family, you said tooth fairies are young bone fairies right? That must mean fairies have parents and family right?” 

Her wings shimmered faintly in the lamplight. “My kind,” she continued, quieter now, “used to live all over. Gardens, meadows, hidden glens. Not that you’d notice. You big folk stomp through everything without lookin’.”

“Anyway,” she added, shrugging. “Most of ‘em are gone now. Or hiding. And my family is hiding too…”

Caitlyn leaned closer, frowning. “Gone where?”

Vi shrugged again, but this time her expression faltered, just a little.

“…Doesn’t matter,” she said. “I’m here now.”

Caitlyn watched her a moment longer, feeling that faint, hollow tug in her chest again, the one she couldn’t quite name.

“Do you ever… miss them?”

Vi snorted. “Used to… all the time. I’ve searched everywhere for them. The one I miss the most is my sister… She had the most beautiful blue wings I have ever seen”

“Wh..” Caitlyn stopped herself. She took a breather. Now wasn’t the time to ask anything. She just let the silence stretch as Vi gazed at the moon through the window.

The next afternoon at school, Caitlyn sat through arithmetic with her chin in her palm, her pencil scratching absent little spirals into the margin of her notes. The girls in front of her whispered and giggled over something she couldn’t see. The boy to her right shot her a disdainful glance when her pencil rolled off the edge of the desk. By the time the final bell rang, she was ready to vanish entirely.

But when she opened her notebook to pack away, she noticed something wedged between the pages: a violet petal, pressed flat and still faintly fragrant. Her cheeks warmed.

Later, in her room, she was recounting her miserable school days while Vi lounged on the bed with her arms behind her head.

“…and then I heard one of them say that I was inbred and that’s why my eyes are small,” Caitlyn muttered.

Vi rolled her eyes. “You let them walk all over you because you’re polite. That’s your problem.”

Caitlyn raised an eyebrow. “And what would you suggest? Pull out their tongue for speaking behind my back?”

Vi smirked. “Worked on your dog, didn’t it?”

That made Caitlyn laugh, louder than she’d meant to. And it got Ruffle’s attention too as he whined. Vi quickly kicked a cupcake down from the plate and gobbled it up happily.

Vi grinned at him, then floated over to the dog and sat on his forehead before rubbing his wet muzzle. Then she turned to Caitlyn, leaning up on one elbow.

“You should let me come with you,” she said. “I’d fix it for you. No one messes with my friends.”

Caitlyn felt the faint warmth bloom again in her chest at the word — friend. 

The fairy was still smirking, but Caitlyn could swear there was something softer underneath it now. Something that made her heart beat a little faster.

“You’re insane,” Caitlyn murmured, but there was no malice in it. Vi only stretched her arms over her head, wings fluttering lazily.

"The most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or touched, they are felt with the heart."
— The Little Prince

CHAPTER 4

The week of the school recital arrived. Caitlyn sat at her desk one evening, the sheet music spread out before her, her bow resting across the strings of her violin. She’d played this piece dozens of times in practice, on the stage in front of no one but the instructor, with fingers that never quite stopped trembling.

But this time would be different. This time, she thought with a tight knot in her chest, everyone would be watching.

“You’re holding it wrong,” came the tiny, knowing voice from the corner of the desk.

Caitlyn jumped and looked up. Vi stood on the rim of her ink bottle, wings lazily folded, pink hair falling into her eyes. Caitlyn was now much more capable of hearing Vi. Even without the stethoscope, she knew Vi enough that she could discern what Vi said from her mannerisms and lip movements. 

Caitlyn narrowed her gaze. “I am not.”

Vi snorted and leapt lightly down onto the sheet music, her boots tapping faintly against the paper. “You are. Because you’re thinking about the people watching instead of the sound you’re making. That’s why it always sounds so stiff when you play.”

Caitlyn flushed faintly, gripping the neck of her violin tighter. “It’s… harder when they’re looking at you.”

Vi tilted her head, studying her. “Doesn’t have to be. Not if you play it right.”

Caitlyn let the bow fall to her lap and leaned back slightly. “And you’d know, wouldn’t you?”

Vi smirked. “Better than you. Music isn’t just noise. Not if you know what you’re doing with it.”

She hopped closer to the violin, resting a hand on the wood like it was a living thing. “Where I’m from, we use music to speak to the world. Wind. Water. The leaves. All of it listens if you ask properly.”

Caitlyn frowned skeptically. “You’re saying… music controls nature?”

“Not controls,” Vi corrected, pacing the length of the fingerboard now, her boots clicking softly. “Persuades. Coaxes. Dances with it. It’s… like this.”

She planted her feet, closed her eyes, and began humming.

It was a strange little melody at first, soft and fluttering, impossibly high yet full and clear. Caitlyn leaned closer without even realizing. 

And as Vi’s tune floated through the air, Caitlyn felt something shift in the room: the curtain at the window swayed even though the glass was shut, the candle on her nightstand guttered and leaned toward the sound. She felt her own heartbeat sync to music Vi made as did she feel every bone in her body resonate to the vibrations in the air.

When Vi stopped, everything stilled again.

Caitlyn’s breath caught. “That… was amazing”

Vi opened one eye and grinned at her. “Now you try.”

Caitlyn’s smile vanished. “I don’t know Vi… it’s just, I just…” 

Vi spoke up before Caitlyn could stammer further. “I’ll tell you what. This weekend, how about I teach you how to properly sing?” 

Caitlyn looked up at Vi with shining eyes. “You will?” 

Vi smiled, as she ever so slightly glowed brighter.

Saturday came like a quiet promise. Caitlyn met Vi by the edge of the woods, just past the crooked fence where the grass grew taller and wilder. The sun was still yawning into the sky, and mist curled low over the field with a few dew drops still lingering on the leaves. Caitlyn had her Violin bag slung over her back. Vi sat atop the rusted post, legs swinging idly as she nibbled on a piece of berry she found.

“You’re late,” she called, crumbs on her lip. Ruffles was already wagging his tail excitedly as he eagerly smelled everything he could find and stick his nose up.

“I’m two minutes early,” said Caitlyn.

“Which is still late in fairy time,” Vi sniffed, though she was grinning. With a flutter of wings, she darted into the air and beckoned Caitlyn forward. “Come on, slowpoke. I’ve got someone I want you to meet.”

Caitlyn hesitated, eyeing the woods. “Are you sure it’s okay?”

Vi twisted in the air and gave her a sideways look. “What, scared of trees now?”

“Not scared,” Caitlyn muttered, pulling her jacket tighter. “Just… cautious.”

“Hey! You’re the one who said you wanted a place with peace and quiet for your music practice.”

“Yeah Yeah I know… It’s just” 

The woods swallowed the sound of Piltover’s machinations.Twigs snapped underfoot, leaves rustled above like whispers between old friends, and the deeper they went, the more the world fell away. Vi flew just ahead, weaving effortlessly through the bramble and undergrowth. Her pink glow illuminating what the sun’s rays didn’t. 

Finally, they reached a small clearing, half-sunken in moss and wild mushrooms. The light was golden here, dappled and soft, and the air smelled like earth and something faintly sweet. Ruffles was too busy chasing after a random butterfly he found.

“Atlas!” Vi called. “Oi, lazy-butt, I brought a visitor!”

Something stirred beneath a rotting log, and then with a low chittering groan, a massive beetle lumbered into the light. His body gleamed like polished obsidian, with a single thick horn curling from his head. He moved slowly, like a creature carved from ancient stone, his shell catching glints of sunlight.

Caitlyn’s mouth fell open. “What on earth is that??”

“A Rhinoceros beetle,” Vi corrected proudly. “He’s a friend.”

Atlas made a low, vibrating hum in response and bumped his horn gently against Vi’s outstretched hand.

“He’s beautiful,” Caitlyn whispered, crouching down carefully.

“He’s a Fat little shit” Vi snorted. “But yeah. He’s good people.”

“Why have I never seen a beetle like him before?” Caitlyn asked, genuinely curious.

Vi’s voice turned sombre. “Because he’s not from around here. He’s actually from some other far away place. I found him in the house of a guy down the street. Locked inside a Glass box. So I broke him out and brought him here”

Vi said the last part with a hint of peppiness to her voice as she stroked the beetle’s carapace. “So, how about we get started on the music? Atlas and that Golden furball of yours can be our audience” 

Vi said as she nodded towards Ruffles who was now rolling on the damp soil of the woods. “Borf!!” 

Ruffles, after much tugging and sniffing, had finally plopped himself down, tongue lolling and tail thumping lazily against the mossy ground. Atlas the beetle came to rest upon his head as Vi sat on Atlas’s Pronotal horn. They made it extremely hard for Caitlyn to not think how idiotic and funny they looked. But it was still not enough to dampen the nerves she was having.

Vi, now, hovered just above Caitlyn’s head, her expression unreadable.

“You’re too tense,” she said suddenly, breaking the silence. “Loosen your shoulders.”

Caitlyn blinked. “What?”

“You’re holding your breath. And you’ve been fidgeting with that thread on your sleeve for the past ten minutes.” Vi dropped down to perch on her shoulder, poking her collarbone lightly. “You want to learn or not?”

Caitlyn looked sheepish. “I do. I just don’t get how I’m supposed to do it.”

Vi grinned. “You don’t do it. You feel it.”

She fluttered up again, wings humming softly, and began to move in slow, deliberate spirals around Caitlyn. “The winds listen to those who listen back,” she said. “That’s all it is. A conversation, not a command.”

Vi snapped her fingers. A faint trill of music shimmered through the air, delicate and magical. “This,” she said, her voice becoming almost melodic, “is Janna’s Reverie.”

Caitlyn felt it immediately. It wasn’t just a song. It was a sensation. Like standing in a sunbeam after a storm. Like a cool breeze through open windows on a spring morning. The melody threaded into her chest and gently pulled. Vi danced in the air, weaving ribbons of wind behind her as she flew. Her hair trailed in slow, sweeping arcs, and her wings pulsed in rhythm with the notes. 

Caitlyn had grown to understand that VI glowed brighter whenever she was elated or happy. And judging by how her pink glow pulsed right now, she was very very happy. 

“Close your eyes,” Vi said softly. “Don’t think. Just let the song carry you.”

Caitlyn hesitated, then obeyed.

At first, there was only the faint sound of birds and the breeze rustling through the canopy above. But then, there was a low vibration in her chest, rising and falling with her breath. She felt the grass brushing against her fingers. The rhythm of leaves shifting around her. Her pulse matched it, then slowed to follow.

The wind stirred. Not hard. Not suddenly. Just enough to barely notice. The branches shivered. A few dry petals lifted into the air and spun in lazy circles. Caitlyn opened her eyes and saw them hovering around her like a slow dance.

Vi gave a low whistle and did a loop in the air. “Well then, someone’s got the touch.”

“I… did that?” Caitlyn whispered.

“You nudged it,” Vi said, settling gently onto Caitlyn’s open palm. “The music was already there. You just learned how to listen.”

Caitlyn looked around. Even Ruffle had noticed. His ears were perked, gaze trained on the petals spiraling overhead. Atlas, too, tilted his horn upward, watching with quiet reverence as one of the petals landed on his armored back.

“It feels… peaceful,” Caitlyn said. “But powerful.”

Vi smiled. “That’s magic. Not big flashy storms like your stories always talk about. It’s rhythm. Breath. Feeling the world move and letting it move through you. Long ago, all living things possessed it. Even humans”

Caitlyn took a slow step forward, the wind shifting gently around her. A few blades of grass bowed as she passed.

“Will it always feel like this?” she asked.

“Not always,” Vi said. “It’s hard to manipulate magic when detached from nature. It’s why no humans nowadays can use magic. That’s why I brought you here, so you may be surrounded by nature and so that you may have an easier time with it. But the reverie, it’s a melody you can always return to. Even when everything else is noise.”

She flew around Caitlyn in a lazy figure-eight, her voice soft. “You’ve got a natural stillness in you. That’s rare in your kind.”

Caitlyn flushed slightly but didn’t look away. “Thanks… I think.”

Ruffle barked once, his head nudging Caitlyn’s hip, and she laughed as she reached down to scratch behind his ears. Atlas gave a low hum of agreement from beside them.

The clearing felt different now, like it had opened up, breathed in deeply. The wind tickled the treetops and fluttered through Caitlyn’s hair like a gentle reassurance.

Vi landed on her shoulder again, wings folding neatly. “You did good, cupcake.”

Caitlyn smiled. “I kinda want to try again.”

Vi tilted her head. “Good. Because the world could use a few more humans who remember how to listen.”

They spent the rest of the afternoon there, the wind dancing in spirals around them, the tune of Janna’s Reverie lacing through the trees. And for the first time in a long time, Caitlyn didn’t feel like an outsider in her own skin, or her own world. She felt part of something. Something ancient, invisible, and full of wonder.

They sat in the clearing for a while. Vi kicked her legs off the edge of a curled leaf while Atlas snacked on a piece of pear Caitlyn had in her pocket and Ruffles was nearly asleep in Caitlyn's lap. For a time, there was only the gentle rustling of the trees and the rhythm of beetle-crunches and the occasional sound of Atlas exhaling loudly.

“I don’t get it,” Caitlyn said eventually. “This place is so… peaceful. Why don’t more people know about it?”

Vi’s wings drooped a little, and she didn’t answer right away.

“It’s better they don’t,” she said softly. “That’s the problem.”

Caitlyn looked over. Vi was picking at a blade of grass, her voice quieter now. “There used to be a whole grove there.” Vi said pointing to the Piltover Lake. It was an Artificial lake formed by the construction of the Dam. “It was called Zaun. My family, we lived in the roots, the branches, the bark. We took care of the blooms, kept the rhythm. The seasons listened to us.”

She paused, chewing her lip.

“But then… they decided to build that dam” 

Vi’s voice caught.

“They drowned it all, Cait. The grove, the trees, our home. My sister and I were out collecting pollen when it started. The water came fast. I couldn’t get back. I don’t know if they made it. I’ve been looking ever since. And all I have been able to find are broken fairy wings. I… I… I don’t think they made it”

Caitlyn’s throat tightened. “Vi…”

The fairy wiped her eyes roughly and waved it off. “Don’t get weepy on me. It’s old news.”

“But it’s not fair. Why would they, why would we do that?”

“Because humans think they own everything,” Vi muttered. “You move in, build roads, cut trees, dam rivers. You don’t stop to ask what’s already there. You see land, not life.”

Caitlyn couldn’t argue with that. She looked around the clearing, imagining what it must have been like, full of laughing, fluttering things. A whole invisible world, crushed under progress.

Vi stood and fluttered over to her, brushing her tiny hand against Caitlyn’s thumb. “It’s not your fault,” she said gently. “But it is your world. And you get to choose how to move through it. And I do admire what you are capable of. You can change the world with your bare hands and warp the forces of nature with your intellect. You can adapt to things that would kill you and… I really admire you for all of it”

Vi paused, gathering her words and spirit. “You people have medicine and those tiny camera things and those boxes that make music for you and and Cupcakkes… You guys have cupcakes.” Vi calmed down, finally steadying herself. “I just wish you guys would stop and maybe take a moment you know….” 

Caitlyn didn’t know what possessed her but she had already leaned closer to Vi. Vi saw it. She moved closer. Caitlyn held out her palm as Vi climbed in. Caitlyn held Vi in the palms of her hand as she brought the fairy closer to her head. It was the closest either could get to a hug. 

They sat there until the sun started to dip, Atlas humming a low, sleepy tune as he nestled under Ruffle’s ear. Vi rested on Caitlyn’s shoulder, lighter than a breath.

“Come on,” Vi said eventually, tugging at a strand of Caitlyn’s hair. “Let’s head back. I hate the woods at night.”

Caitlyn smiled faintly and stood, brushing off her knees. “Thanks for bringing me,” she said. “I mean it.”

Vi shrugged, but her eyes softened. “You’re not the worst company either, cupcake.”

They walked back together, the shadows growing long behind them. And though Caitlyn’s feet crunched the undergrowth, she moved just a little lighter, just a little more carefully.

For the next two nights, Caitlyn practiced that peculiar little melody after her usual scales, playing it under her breath where no one else could hear. Vi would stand on her shoulder or hover around the violin’s scroll, shouting encouragement and insults in equal measure.

By the afternoon of the recital, Caitlyn knew the notes by heart. When she stepped onto the stage in front of the packed assembly hall, her palms were damp, her knees stiff. The lights were blinding. She caught sight of her parents near the front row, her father with his hands giving her thumbs up and her mother with her usual polite smile. And then she took in the size of the audience and nearly froze. Her bones shivered and her fingers trembled. But then something brushed her ear.

“You’ve got this,” came the faintest whisper, just low enough for her alone to hear.

Vi was there, perched lightly on the violin’s scroll, her wings shimmering in the stage lights though no one else could see her. And even if someone did, they probably thought she was a toy or something.

Caitlyn swallowed, lifted her bow, and began to play. The first few bars were her assigned piece, the one she’d practiced a hundred times, but halfway through she let her fingers shift, let the new melody slip in.

Vi’s melody. It poured out of her in a delicate wave. And the air shifted. A breeze rippled across the stage, lifting the curtains faintly. The faint scent of rain touched her cheek. She kept playing. Behind her, something faintly sparkled, fine droplets of water gathering in the air above the stage lights. The breeze grew stronger, coaxing the curtains to join the rhythm, the faint tapping of raindrops forming a counterpoint on the roof above.

Caitlyn’s bow swept faster, her feet steady now. And then she felt it, Vi’s glow bursting brighter than ever, circling around her in arcs of pink light, her wings a blur of motion as she danced through the air, weaving herself through the music.

No one else seemed to see her. The audience sat rapt, some leaning forward, though their eyes passed over the glowing streaks as if they weren’t there. But Caitlyn saw. And when she reached the final note, she felt Vi come to rest at her shoulder, her faint little laugh mingling with the hush that fell over the room. The wind stilled. The last few raindrops clung to the rafters like glass beads.

And as the applause erupted below, Caitlyn only smiled faintly to herself, the weight in her chest lighter than it had been in years. Vi, still unseen by anyone else, grinned at her and murmured, just for her:

“Told you. You just had to listen”

"And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music."
— Friedrich Nietzsche

CHAPTER 5

The day the bombs fell began like any other. Caitlyn sat at her usual desk in the middle row, pencil in hand, eyes drifting toward the window as the teacher droned about geography. Outside, the clouds hung low and heavy, the air sharp with the faint smell of smoke from somewhere far away. Vi’s pressed violet petal still lay hidden in her notebook, flattened between the pages, her fingers tracing its edge absently while she half-listened.

Now and then, she thought she could hear the faintest laugh against her ear, a teasing whisper that no one else noticed, and she’d smile faintly to herself while the rest of the room kept its silence.

By midday, the tension in the air had grown thick. Outside the classroom, teachers were conferring in hushed tones, and Caitlyn caught stray words like evacuation and artillery . It wasn’t unusual, of course. Not entirely.

Whispers of the war had floated through Piltover for months now, even if no one spoke of it plainly. Still, they’d all thought it was something far away, a thing that happened to other people in other places. Even Jayce being called to the frontlines was a sign of growing unrest that she wasn’t able to discern back then.

But when the first distant crack of thunder rolled through the air, and the floor trembled beneath their feet, everyone finally fell silent. The teacher’s face went pale. She snapped the chalk in her fingers and ordered the children into line.

They poured into the corridor in a neat line at first, but as another shudder rippled through the building, the line fell apart. Caitlyn clutched her bag tight to her chest as the crowd surged toward the stairwell, the muffled roar of something outside growing louder now, a deep, grinding howl of engines and fire.

She stumbled once, someone’s elbow catching her side, and when she finally made it out into the street, the city was no longer the same. Smoke rose in plumes where the airships hovered above, their great black shadows blotting out the afternoon sun. Whole sections of the street were already collapsed, walls caved in like cardboard under boots.

Somewhere, she thought she heard her name, but the crowd swept her along too fast to see where it came from. And explosions and bombardments continued, nearly breaking her eardrums. And then, she felt a shadow fall on her, she looked up and saw the wall of the school come apart and fall on her

BOOOOMMM!!

By the time she woke up, she was alone. She saw that she was inside a crevice of some kind. Formed by the crumbled remains of the school. She crawled out through the gaps. She saw no one. She saw nothing but rubble and ruin. Fire and Fractures. 

The air was thick with ash and dust, and the ground shook intermittently as the bombs fell further away. Her legs carried her automatically toward home. Toward the one place she could think to go. When she turned the final corner onto her street, she stopped dead.

The gate was bent in on itself. Smoke poured from one of the windows. The garden wall lay cracked open like an egg. She walked forward, hoping against hope. 

“MOM!! DAD!! ANYONE!! PLEASE!! I’M SCARED!!” 

Moving was hard. The adrenaline was fading and she started to feel the pain shoot from various parts of her body. She trudged on, looking under broken walls and cracked pillars for any sign of life whatsoever. 

And then she heard a sound. A weak little whine. Ruffles!

She rushed in the direction of the sound. Stumbling and falling on her way but still picking herself up and running forward regardless. She found him, he was lying at the foot of the garden steps, his fur blackened in places, one paw stretched forward.

“Ruffles!” she cried, running to him.

He didn’t move at first. Caitlyn fell to her knees, choking back a sob as she reached for his muzzle. Then he stirred faintly, his big tail giving the smallest twitch. She exhaled in a rush and pressed her cheek to his head. “You stupid dog,” she whispered. “You stupid, stupid dog…”

But then she felt something odd beneath her fingers. His jaws were clamped tight around… something. There was a faint glimmer of pink light between his teeth.  Caitlyn froze. With a faint whimper, Ruffles released his jaw. And Vi tumbled out and curled into a heap, slick with saliva. 

For the first time in hours, she felt her heartbeat steady again. Her fingers curled protectively around the tiny, impossible girl in her palm. Vi seemed injured, but not from Ruffle’s jaw. She seemed hurt from something else. Caitlyn stared down at her, chest tight, the roar of another explosion echoing through the streets behind her.

“Vi.. are you okay?,” she whispered.

Vi cracked open one eye, her voice faint but she was alive. Caitlyn then turned to Ruffles, attempting to scoop him up as well. “Come on boy” She said as she lifted his head. But nothing happened. 

The Dog made no sound. His tail didn’t wag. His nose didn’t twitch. His head simply flopped like a master less puppet. 

“Ruffles,” she breathed, prying his eyes open carefully, “don’t you dare…”

“No… No… No… RUFFLES!! RUFFLES!!” 

NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

"Fairy tales do not tell children that dragons exist. Children already know that dragons exist. Fairy tales tell children that dragons can be killed."
— G.K. Chesterton

CHAPTER 6

Pitover had become a labyrinth of death and destruction. Caitlyn pressed herself against the cracked wall of an alley, her breath ragged in her throat, her hands cupped protectively around the little jar she carried close to her chest. The sky above glowed an ugly red, streaked with smoke, and the low, mechanical hum of planes droned overhead, punctuated now and then by the distant thunder of falling bombs.

She swallowed hard, forcing her legs to move. One step. Then another. Her boots splashed through puddles dark with ash. Around her, the air smelled of soot and something acrid, sharp, and metallic. She didn’t let herself look too long at the street ahead, the buildings torn asunder like paper boxes, the windows shattered, the shapes of people lying too still in the road.

“Don’t stop,” she muttered under her breath, more to herself than anyone else. “Don’t stop. Don’t stop.”

The jar shifted faintly in her hands, and she looked down. Inside, Vi lay slumped against the glass, her wings dim and folded, her breathing shallow. Even her pink hair had dulled to something almost grey in the weak light. Caitlyn pressed her fingers lightly against the jar, and Vi stirred faintly, her eyes opening just a sliver.

“You still with me?” Caitlyn whispered. Vi’s lips curved into the ghost of a smirk. 

Night fell heavy and fast. The streets emptied entirely. The roar of planes overhead grew fainter but more sporadic, just enough to keep her stomach in knots, waiting for the next crash. The cold settled into her bones. Every few minutes, she stopped and ducked into the remains of a doorway or under the half-collapsed awning of a shop to catch her breath.

But Vi was growing worse. Her tiny shoulders shivered against the glass, her wings twitching weakly. Her mouth moved now and then, but no sound reached Caitlyn anymore. It was water she needed, Caitlyn thought. Water, warmth, something. Her gaze darted up the next street and caught on a mostly intact building that wasn’t reduced to a destroyed mess of bricks and concrete.

A plant shop. A broken signboard read “AMANDA’S GARDEN” 

Half its windows were blown out, the door gone entirely, but it still stood. Offering refuge, shelter and maybe a safe heaven for the two. Caitlyn squeezed through the splintered frame and into the darkness. Inside, the faint scent of soil and crushed leaves still clung to the air. The floor was littered with broken pots and glass, but in the corner, one of the greenhouse tables still stood, its legs stubbornly rooted in cracked tiles.

She set the jar down on the table and curled herself up on the floor beside it. Her fingers ached. Her throat felt raw from breathing the smoke and ash.

Vi stirred faintly and pressed her palm to the glass.

Her voice reached Caitlyn’s ear, faint, almost pleading. She focused on Vi’s lips to maybe decipher what she said. Caitlyn blinked at her.

“What?”

Vi’s eyes fluttered half-shut, her tiny lips forming the word again, but this time Caitlyn heard it. “Sing”

Caitlyn hesitated, her fingers curling tight into her skirts. Then she closed her eyes and started, soft at first, so soft it was barely more than a whisper, for all that mattered, only one song came to her mind.

"Blackbird singing in the dead of night…”

Her voice cracked, but she focused more on the feeling of the song.

"Take these broken wings and learn to fly…”

Around her, the silence of the ruined shop seemed to lean closer.

"All your life… you were only waiting for this moment to arise…”

“Blackbird singing in the dead of night…”

“Take these sunken eyes and learn to see….”

“All your life…..”

“You were only waiting for this moment to be free…..”

As her voice wavered, a faint sound joined it, the patter of something against the broken glass above. Caitlyn opened her eyes. Raindrops. Soft and tentative at first, then steadier, a light shower falling through the shattered windows and holes in the roof.

The dust and smoke around her settled and vanished, the air cooled. And slowly, impossibly, the dead, brittle plants that clung stubbornly to the edges of the room began to lift their leaves again. Tiny shoots unfurled in pots where there had been only soil.

On the table beside her, Vi lay still, but her wings began to shimmer again, catching the faint light from the rain above. Caitlyn reached for one of the rejuvenated leaves, tearing it free and nibbling on its bitter stem. She handed another to Vi, who took it with unsteady fingers, chewing as though it was a feast.

The rain kept falling. The plants around them whispered faintly in the breeze.

Caitlyn let her head rest against the table, her hand still cupped protectively around the jar, and whispered into the quiet:

“Blackbird… fly”

"Hope is being able to see that there is light despite all of the darkness."
— Desmond Tutu

CHAPTER 7

The fog rolled in before dawn. Caitlyn woke to the sound of distant engines groaning somewhere beyond the ruined streets. The plant shop was quiet, except for the occasional drip of water from the ceiling. Vi lay curled in her jar, faintly glowing now, her breath even but shallow. Her wings had regained a hint of their shimmer overnight, but she was still pale, her strength clearly faltering.

Caitlyn rubbed her eyes and straightened her back. Her whole body ached from the cold floor and from carrying herself through the wreckage all night. But she stood, picked up the jar, and stepped back into the street. The rain had stopped. The air hung heavy and wet, the fog so thick she couldn’t see more than a few steps ahead.

The city was almost unrecognizable now, the familiar avenues smudged into grey shapes, buildings reduced to blackened skeletons, the streets strewn with rubble and silence. She clutched the jar close to her chest and started walking.

Time lost meaning in the fog. Once or twice she thought she heard her name from within it, but it dissolved into the air like smoke before she could follow it. The ground trembled under her feet as more bombs fell somewhere far away. The planes still groaned overhead, their shapes vague shadows in the cloud.

And then she fell. Her knee struck the ground hard, and she barely managed to keep her grip on the jar. She stayed there for a moment, her breath coming fast and shallow, the taste of smoke thick in her mouth. Her chest heaved. Her legs refused to lift her back up. And for the first time since she’d set out, she let her shoulders sag, her eyes falling shut.

“I can’t,” she whispered.

The jar shifted faintly in her arms. She looked down. Vi had dragged herself upright, pressing both tiny palms against the glass. Caitlyn shook her head weakly, tears stinging her eyes. She placed Jar in front of her face.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I can’t anymore. I… I tried…”

But then she heard it. A sound beyond the fog. Voices. But not hallucinations, real voices. People. Her heart stumbled in her chest. Rescuers. They were close.

But they’d never see her in this fog. She didn’t have it in herself to scream out for help. Her limbs refused to co-operate. But then, her eyes saw something. Vi. She crawled out of the jar that was meant to protect her.  

“Vi… what… what are you? What are you doing?” She managed to croak out but barely.

And that was when Vi began to glow. She started as a faint shimmer — then bloomed into a fierce, bright light that pierced through the fog. Caitlyn squinted against the brilliance, her breath catching.

“Vi—”

The little fairy rose into the air, her smile faint but resolute now. Her glow pulsed once, twice, then grew so bright it lit the fog for meters in every direction, cutting through the smog like a star fallen to earth. And above the roar of her light, Caitlyn could just make out her faint voice, she didn’t need to read those lips nor use the stethoscope. She heard Violet loud and clear.

“I love you… Cupcake”

Caitlyn tried to move as the shouts in the fog grew louder, closer now, but Vi’s glow was almost too much to look at. Then, with one last blaze, the light flared.

And went out.

When Caitlyn blinked the spots from her vision, All that remained was a single shard of wing, faintly glimmering as it floated towards her and landed squarely in her outstretched palm.

Caitlyn stared at it, her throat tight, her hands trembling. The voices were close now, shapes of people appearing through the fog, rushing toward her, reaching out. But all she could do was stare into the empty jar, whispering the only thing she could manage through the lump in her throat while holding onto the wing held tightly in her clutches

“…I love you”

"The stars are not afraid to appear like fireflies."
— Rabindranath Tagore

Years later, the city stood rebuilt. The streets were smooth again, the rubble cleared, the gardens replanted. New spires rose where old ones had fallen, gleaming in the morning light. On a quiet hill overlooking the city, a woman stood alone.

Caitlyn. Her hair was longer now, polished and straight as the hung till her shoulders, her coat trimmed with fine velvet. But her hands, though steady, still trembled faintly. On her delicate and long neck was a glass pendant and inside, a broken fairy’s wing.

It caught the light just as it had that day, shimmering faintly, impossibly delicate. Caitlyn’s thumb brushed over it, and her lips curved into a faint, private smile. Behind her, faint laughter echoed down the hill, a child’s laughter, and she turned to see a little girl running ahead of her mother, a wooden sword clutched in one hand.

The mother called after her gently, her voice carrying just enough for Caitlyn to hear:

“You’ll hurt yourself, slow down!”

The girl only laughed harder, her wild hair catching the sun, her footsteps fading into the distance. Caitlyn lingered there a moment longer, then when she turned to leave, her path wound past a row of houses.

The curtains of one fluttered faintly in the breeze. And just for a second, only long enough for her to doubt herself, she thought she heard it. A laugh. That laugh. High and clear and full of mischief. Her breath caught as she stopped at the gate, eyes scanning the street. Nothing there.

She took a step forward. And she turned the corner to the garden of the small house. And there she saw her. Her eyes watered and her lips trembled. She smiled faintly. 

THE END

“But Mama,” the little girl complained, “that’s not how the story ends! What happened to the fairy and the princess? You can’t end it like that!!”

Caitlyn’s smile softened as she crouched to brush the girl’s hair back from her face.

“You’ll find out someday,” she murmured, kissing the crown of her head. “But not today”

The girl huffed but allowed herself to be tucked into bed a few minutes later. Once the room fell quiet, Caitlyn rose and padded down the hall, she stopped by the dog bowl and poured a healthy amount of dog food in for any midnight cravings and walked towards her bedroom. Inside, the lights were dim and the air warm, and someone lay with their back to her and curled up. Her pink hair contrasting nicely with the surroundings.

“She asleep?… Or did you leave the story unsatisfied again?”

The voice was teasing, familiar, and unmistakable. Caitlyn shook her head fondly, slipped off her coat, and slid into bed beside her. Taking up the position of the bigger spoon. 

“She’ll be fine,” she murmured. 

The reply came in with a light teasing chuckle. “You are still too tense, you need to feel the story cupcake”

“Oh Shut up” Caitlyn said, but not with annoyance. The light was switched off. And on the bedside table, the broken fairy wing glimmered faintly in the dark ever so slightly.

"In every real fairy story, there is a deeper truth — that which was lost can sometimes be found again."
— J.R.R. Tolkien