First love brings such sweet sorrows, even in the fairy tales. My first love was when I was very young and naive to the world. I was in love with the idea of love, as many young girls are. No one ever forgets their first love, and for me, there was only ever one. The difference is, I never got my happily ever after. For that is the price of granting wishes, fairies cannot make their own dreams come true.

Fae have a long life span of three-hundred years. Thankfully, we do not age, granted with eternal youth. If we did grow old, I might shrivel up into a grasshopper like the Greek, Tithonus. What a frightening thought! I suppose, even when we die, there is some beauty in it, mixed with the sorrow. Fairies do not grow frail and sick, free to run and play till the day we pass on. Only our souls grow old, as the fire in our eyes slowly starts to flicker. We go swift and painlessly, like the tide retreating into the sea. One day the flickering flame is suddenly blown out, and we are left for the first time in darkness.

As wonderful as being eternally young, there are prices to pay. Our minds remain fresh, not ever being affected by age. We cannot forget the past and the mistakes we make. It is the curse which cloud our sunny days. In our long lives, we remember every life we touch along the way, as well as feel the pain of each loss, clear as the day it happened.

In the woods of the evergreen forest, there is a single willow tree which blooms throughout the year. I remember a time when the land upon which it stands was bare, many years ago. This is where the story began, and my life forever changed.
***

I remember the sunshine glimmering above, feeling its warmth prickle on my back. I roll up my purple silk dress and plunge my feet into the frigid waters of the brook as I sit on the grassy edge. Beside me I have a pile of daisies which I have picked from a small patch of flowers in the wood. One by one, I begin to weave the white flowers together with my slender fingers in a circle to make a flower crown. When I finish, I gently place it on my yellow locks of hair. I bend over to glance at my reflection in the water below and smile in amusement. It reminds me of blossoms growing in the endless fields of wheat.

“Excuse me, fair maiden?” a voice calls. I snap my head up in surprise. “Yes, you. I am afraid I have managed to become quite lost, being unfamiliar with this neck of the woods. It also might be due to the fact that I have neglected to look at a map before venturing out. To… Well, to my dismay, I only realized what a mistake I have made after venturing thus far and have only managed to become more lost as I have tried to find my way back again.”

I turn my head sideways and crinkle my brow. “And… you would like to become un-lost?” I inquire.
“Yes. That would be the objective…” He chuckles and runs his hand through his black curly hair.

Shaking my back to unfurl my golden wings, I suddenly spring into the hair and land not a foot away from him. Sharply extending my right arm, I point to a moss-covered trail. While distinguishable, it was almost impossible to find if you don’t know what you’re looking for. “THAT trail.”

He nods his head quickly in thanks. With a gigantic smile widely spread across my face, I step in front of him right about as he begins to move forward. I shove my hand in front of him to shake. “I’m Cassandra… It is VERY nice to meet you! And you are who?” I chirp.

He returns with a smile that meets his eyes and my heart skips a beat. “I’m Philip… It’s nice to meet you too.”

“Well down that path is a small village named, um, Barlem, I think.”  Of course I didn’t know for sure. He looked again to the path and seemed a bit impatient to get started. Before he could, I said again hurriedly, “You’ll come back? Won’t you? ...I’m sorry, I realize I’m hyper and I might come on a little strong, but there’s no one really around to talk to. You seem nice and I am in desperate need of a friend.”

He thought about it for a moment. “...Sure.” He smiled again. “I promise.”

And that was the start of everything. Philip did come back- every day for the next year. We grew close as as we talked about everything under the sun. I showed him the forest, the nymphs and the sprites. In return he brought me to cities and towns.

I loved watching the humans. Watching them eat is especially fascinating because Fae only occasionally drink nectar. My favorite memory was going into that small town of Barlem one night for their county ball. We spent the night dancing in all over the cobblestone streets and fell asleep in a sunflower field, watching the night stars. For the first time in my entire life, he made me feel important. He became my best friend and I, his. We were so happy, I thought it would be that way forever. Of course I hadn’t met Isabel yet.

She was seventeen years old with dimpled cheeks, lips redder than roses in May, and long golden spools of hair tumbling down her back. Those beautiful, piercing green eyes of hers; how could anyone resist? Don’t believe for a moment that she was a perfect girl. No, I met her sneaking out of a cabin wearing nothing but bedsheets. I dared not ask what she was doing there, but a could easily wager a guess.

Isabel was the daughter of a nobleman, Henry Caldorf, and was destined to be married off to the man of the highest bidding. She was running away from that fate. She did not believe in love or happily-ever-afters. She told me once, “The fae may have magic to perform their petty little tricks with, but money is the TRUE magic of the world.” I admit it, I hated her for all the privileged, self-entitled,  narcissistic person she was; but I was stuck with her whether I liked it or not.

I happened to be travelling with some of the members in the Court of the Fae. They are an ancient group of fairies. While they do not flaunt their age, seeing it as a severe form of vanity, it is said some are over eight-hundred years old. It is to policy that upon encountering anyone in need, we must bring them to the Court’s GREAT HALL, where a tribunal gathers.

*(Note to Folklore: There is a Queen Mab of the Fae, but she is more similar to the empress of  a great empire, therefore she cannot afford to be present at every district court. We are more of a bureaucracy. Every Enchanted Forest runs independently, while bound by the same code of law upheld by the Greater Fae Kingdom. The Court of Fae are appointed by the Queen herself though.)*

There it was decided that I was to become this girl’s fairy godmother. She was to be my first godchild. The Court explained their verdict by telling me that they hoped it would shed a higher sense of responsibility. Instead of occupying my days by frolicking through fields and meadows, I would be baby sitting.

What is the first thing she orders me to do? Isabel demands that I manifest a stack of gold, rubies and emeralds ten feet high. The Fae are obliged to obey all wishes of their godchild until they are no longer in need. This was quite worrisome to me, as I quickly found out. To Isabel Caldorf, I was a genie with more than three wishes. As for her being someone “in need”, never have I seen a human so needy. Still, that was not the worst to come; she was about to ask for something far more precious than any amount of jewels.

I had managed to sneak away from Isabel early one dawn so I could meet Philip in our special place by the brook. He kept on telling me how much he missed spending our time together and how close we’ve been. I had just gotten up the courage to express my feelings for him when I heard a groan in frustration.

“Ugh!” Isabel shouted as her impractically large dress snags on a broken branch, tugging her gown. Philip, being his chivalrous self, did not delay a moment in assisting her. “Thank you Prince Charming. Your Highness, what on earth are you doing here?” She asks, quickly curtsying.

“Your Highness?” I ask with great confusion.

“This is my dear friend, Cassandra.” Philip tries to introduce the two of us, attempting to avoid the question.

“We’ve met…” Isabel replies smugly.

“Yes. We have. She’s my… godchild.” I swallow hard. “But WHAT do you mean ‘your Highness’?” I ask again.

Isabel exclaims in surprise, “Well he is the Crown Prince! How could you possibly not know such a thing?!”

“I wanted you to accept me for who I was as a person, not the title I was given.” Philip tries to explain. As livid as I was that he would neglect to tell me such a thing, I do understand his reasons. Turning back to Isabel, he said, “I hope we may meet again soon, milady.” He turned around to leave, with a whispered ‘farewell’ to me.

She smiled and called to him, “I hope so too! I’d love to be rescued by you any day of the week!” Walking towards me, she hissed in my ear, “HE is my next wish. That will me my happily-ever-after.”

Rule 437: Any and all wishes must be granted to their godchild if it does not interfere with the sacred rule of life. (i.e. You cannot create life or take it away).

I read that rule hundreds of times, trying to find a loophole in vain. And what a stupid number it is anyways. What about the sacredness of the heart? Forcing love, how can that be allowed? And so, with a reluctant wave of my hands, I cast the spell. In that moment, I swear I could hear my heart breaking.

Philip would never know what I did that day, or how I deeply I loved him. I was a good godmother and said the right things at the wedding and made sure everything was perfect. Perhaps if I was invisible to him, this would not hurt so badly? Instead he looks at me and smiles, but never in the same way he does at her.

He lived to an old age, surrounded by children and grandchildren, and happiness filled his soul. That was the one consolation: I wanted him to be happy, even if it wasn’t with me. In the end, it may have been impossible for him to love me, as I could never grow old beside him.

After he died, he was buried beneath the earth beside the brook, where we had spent so many afternoons all those years ago. To mark his grave, I planted a small sapling and through the years I’ve watched it grow. Now I lay myself down to rest beneath the willow’s shade. I close these violet eyes for the last time, listening to the whispering of the trees. And then I fade away, dreaming of a life where we may meet again, as equals.