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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2198833
Rated: E · Fiction · Fantasy · #2198833
When the Old meets the New
From Rags to Fairy-ness

Prompt: Tooth Fairy


Enaira had been flying almost nonstop the whole night. She had never collected so many teeth in one night before. She had done what she could do. But her purse and her satchel where she carried the collected teeth were exchanging their weight. Her purse was getting light after every tooth and now she could hardly carry.
It would be morning soon and she would need to return to her realm but her wings were killing her and there were three more houses that awaited her visit. Finding a bench on the side of the street Enaira dropped her stuffs and slumped on the bench.
With a whish of her wand she produced a glass of water which disappeared after she had drank form it.
I am getting old for the job, she thought to herself. I would need to find someone and soon. But the problem was, these days’ people, especially the kids, didn’t believe in fairies. They put the tooth under their pillow in expectation of getting gifts or money.
But she needed someone to handover her responsibilities or else her kind would perish. Even the thought made her whole body shiver.
She was panting heavily when she heard someone singing. The voice was so soft and sweet than in an instant she forgot all her pain and stood up. Flattering her gossamer wings, she quietly glided towards the source of the song. It was a kid’s voice, very young, very melodic.
The singing took her to the next alley. In a cold corner, on the stony pavement, sat a girl tenderly passing her hand over a broken doll. It was a lullaby she was singing, pretending to put her doll to sleep.
Enaira watched the girl for some time. She was not more than ten years old, fair with rosy cheeks and bright blue eyes. Her clothes torn and dirty but her messy golden locks glistened in the light of the streetlamp. Enaira came down to the pavement and silently stepped forward, lest she scared the kid.
“Hello there,” she said.
The girl startled and stood up dropping the doll.
“My name is Enaira. What’s your name?”
“Arya.”
“You have a beautiful name and a sweet voice too.”
Arya listed her head and blinked a few times.
“Are you a fairy?” she asked all of a sudden. He eyes had gone wide. “Is … are those you wings?”
Enaira was stunned to find Arya see her wings. No human can see them. Then … Oh, Enaira couldn’t believe it.
“Yes,” she said. “I am a fairy. A tooth fairy.”
Arya jumped clapping as number of time.
“I knew it, I knew it,” she said. “I knew fairies are for real. Peter didn’t believe me.” She pointed at somewhere behind her.
Now Enaira saw another boy there, sleeping on a rug. She went near him and from under the rug brought out a small molar tooth.
“Who is he?”
“My brother. He says you are a myth. I made him keep that tooth.”
Enaira smiled.
“Will you like to be fairy?”
Arya gaped at the older fairy in disbelieve. Then she asked, “I can?”
“Will you come with me?”
Arya opened her mouth to speak but stopped. She glanced at her brother and then shook her head.
Enaira nodded brought out her wand. With light tap on the little girl’s head with the star at the head of the wand, she recited a spell.
Stars appeared all around Arya cascading from her head to her bare toes. A bright golden light enveloped Arya and when it settled a pretty little girl stood an inch above the pavement, thin wings flapping noiselessly and her neat locks gently flowing in the wind.
Arya looked about herself, amazed at her wings and beautiful dress that adorned her. Enaira went her brother’s side and tapped the boy’s head whispering something.
“Come,” She said to Arya. “We’ll have to leave.”
“Peter?”
“I’ve told him where to find us. Come.”
Enaira put her fair hand out for Arya. The little fairy took it and smiled.
“You have lot to learn, Arya. You are the youngest tooth fairy ever.”
Excited at her new life, Arya drifted with Enaira, hand in hand out of the cold alley just as the sun was rising in the eastern sky.
Behind her, Peter slowly disappeared, leaving behind the dirty rug and a broken doll.
© Copyright 2019 Rima: Happy New Year WDC (rimad at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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