Consequence

  ( Princess Puddingpuff )

  It hadn't taken Princess Puddingpuff and Bubblebun long to handle things in Songflower. For their first time encountering an eruption, it had gone remarkably smoothly. They'd prioritised stemming the flow, then dispatched the few unfortunate souls who had mutated afterwards.

  It seemed the others had encountered equally easy opponents, for they too had returned to the palace with reasonable swiftness. Yet not all was well. There was still no sign of Sunshine, and even more worryingly, a fifth flare had apparently launched to the west. A flare Winterwish and Merrymint had given chase to. Now chill winds were rolling in, as concerning as they were unseasonal.

  Cutiehorn had been quick to reassign their forces. Cherrychomp was dispatched to survey Tuberly from the air, with the strict instruction only to engage if absolutely necessary, whilst Bubblebun, Splishsplash, and even Dollymop atop Mister Bear's shoulder had been sent to search the west.

  "I don't like this," sighed Cutiehorn shakily, clearly stressed to the limit. "I just hope Tuberly and the west are small-scale attacks like ours. Dammit, what the hel is Sunshine doing? She'd better be ok..."

  Princess Puddingpuff chose not to speak, and instead focused on thought alone. Whilst she may have taken their enemy for little more than a convenient distraction at first, learning of a hostile Fairy Princess' presence had heightened her concerns dramatically. Yet plans had already been set in motion. Titania's absence was such a rare occurrence that she'd decided to play the odds. Now, however, she couldn't shake the feeling that she'd made a terrible mistake.

  Damnable deviants. Even with a Fairy Princess of their own, I never imagined they'd be able to hit five locations at once. This would've taken time to plan. How did news of Titania's absence leak? I didn't tell a soul, and Splishsplash would not have breathed a word either...

  She rolled her lips and cast her gaze up the towering palace. There were but two accessible entrances. The one they stood before which had been guarded the entire time, and the faefire-locked Sky Spire.

  What was it you were attempting to achieve? At first I thought you were trying to overwhelm us, but if so, you've done a shoddy job of it. No. There has to be another reason to divide us...

  "Merrymint and Winterwish should be fine, right?" asked Cutiehorn. "They survived Candy Town. They're strong. They could easily handle what me and Cherrychomp were up against in Plumpberry..." The knight continued to ramble, giving voice to internal turmoil despite receiving no response.

  True... but Candy Town isn't the only incident Winterwish survived...

  "Am I to take it that no one has encountered the enemy fairy yet?" asked Princess Puddingpuff.

  Cutiehorn's expression contorted with worry. "...Not yet."

  Today. Candy Town. The hostile fairy's first appearance. All major incidents put one specific individual at risk. The enemy somehow learned of Titania's absence. Is it not possible they've also learned of Winterwish's potential? If so...

  Princess Puddingpuff snapped her parasol to a close. "I'm going to help search."

  "Wait!" said Cutiehorn, gesturing to a red orb on approach.

  The Muncher's tongue flapped from the side of its maw as it zoomed to meet them, but the imp atop lacked her usual enthusiasm.

  "Cherrychomp! Did you find Sunshine?" asked Cutiehorn.

  The imp's complexion had paled. Her voice trembled. "No. Just... dead people. Lots an' lots. Well, bits of 'em. My friends at the beetyroot school... They won't be able to play with me no more..." Ruby eyes shimmered with tears that refused to shed.

  As if in response to her pain, a speck of soft white drifted through the air. The imp's eyes crossed as it landed upon the tip of her rosy nose. She attempted to reach up and grab it, but couldn't before the warmth of her body took effect. It melted to a droplet, before falling free.

  "...S-snowin'?" she asked.

  And it was. Not just a few flakes, but a flurry. All around them, fluffy cold danced down.

  "There she is!" shouted Cutiehorn, before breaking into a clattering sprint.

  Princess Puddingpuff turned to see an almost unrecognisable figure shuffle from the western treeline. With robe bloodied and wings limp, the barely-feathered fairy emerged. Her skin was swollen and patchy with purple. Her extremities blackened. A familiar hat tucked beneath one arm.

  "That's Merry's 'at..." said Cherrychomp. "She must've lost it. I sure 'ope 'er 'air doesn't get too cold."

  Princess Puddingpuff shuddered. Her brain wanted to leap to logical implications. It wanted to draw conclusions and make assumptions, but she wouldn't let it. Every time a thought entered her mind she refused it. Right now she didn't want to rationalise, she wanted to hope.

  "Stay here, Cherrychomp," she forced through stiff lips, and took off after Cutiehorn.

  "It's true. They have a Fairy Princess..." Sunshine mumbled weakly, her gaze low. Weeping eyes that once gleamed golden had dulled.

  "Merrymint and Winterwish? Where are they?" asked Cutiehorn.

  Tarnished orbs scrunched to a close. Tears rolled down frostbitten cheeks. Sunshine could only choke the answer. "...Dead."

  One word. A single word. Yet it hit Puddingpuff like a hammer to the gut. The air was forced from her lungs. She doubled over.

  Cutiehorn fared no better, crashing to armoured knees. "No..." A gauntlet clenched until metal creaked. "No! No! No!" With each rejection, an armoured fist punched the whitening ground, as if by denying the truth, reality might be changed.

  Puddingpuff wished she could doubt Sunshine, but even through the blisters and burns, her expression was one of devastated certainty.

  Death had always been a possibility, for any of them. It was an insurmountable force that could, and often did strike without warning, yet knowing and experiencing were two very different things.

  I... I have to fix this! There must be something I can do! Some way to... to...

  Her throat squelched with the following swallow, as if gulping a marble.

  ...No. That's not the nature of death. It's irreversible. Absolute.

  All she could do was tremble. Utterly powerless. She'd thought herself capable. She'd thought herself clever. But at that moment, she may as well have been nothing.

  She'd been so focused on the disaster that would follow should Titania fall that she'd allowed miscreants to lurk unchallenged amongst the populace. Now two of her closest allies had paid the ultimate price.

  In truth, when Puddingpuff first spied their newborn sibling standing beside Merrymint atop that Candy Town roof, she'd perceived little more than opportunity. A chance to guide Titania's favoured cocoon-dweller away from Splishsplash's stern Mentorship, and into the hands of one far more malleable. Yet, in the short time they'd known each other, she'd grown genuinely fond of the frosty fairy. Even Merrymint, who wasn't nearly as naive as she'd initially hoped, was well-meaning. They'd not just been pieces in play. Not just pawns. Not just family. They'd been dear friends.

  Now they were gone.

  That was when she heard the footsteps approaching from behind. Despite being told to wait, the little red fairy was walking down toward them.

  Puddingpuff forced a shaky breath. "I'll do it. I'll tell her." She accepted the hat in shaking hands. It was tattered. Bloodied. But precious nonetheless. "You should head inside, Sunshine. Warm up until someone can tend to your injuries. Titania will have questions."

  But Sunshine shook her head. "No. I'm leaving."

  Cutiehorn clambered up from the ground and grabbed Sunshine by the shoulder. "What do you mean leave? You can't leave!"

  "There's nothing for me here. Not anymore," whispered Sunshine. "I've done enough damage."

  "That doesn't mean you can just walk away!" cried Cutiehorn.

  "Are you going to stop me?" asked Sunshine.

  Armoured digits pressed deep, locking tight. "If I must."

  "What's 'appenin'? Why's you fightin'? An' why's you got Merry's 'at? Where is she? An' where's Wintywish?" Cherrychomp stood just a few paces further up the hill than the rest of them, almost putting them on eye level. "...Are they busy makin' it snowin'?"

  Puddingpuff swallowed hard and thumbed the hat in unsteady hands. Words had always come so easily to her, but not now. "Merrymint and Winterwish... they're... they're not coming back."

  The little red fairy's brow creased. Lips quivered. "W-what do you mean? They 'ave to come back. They live 'ere. With us."

  "No..." Puddingpuff struggled to hold Cherrychomp's gaze. "Not anymore."

  Cherrychomp started to look around with growing panic. "They campin'? Then, they'll be back tomorrow!"

  Puddingpuff's vision moistened. Her voice cracked. "No. They're gone."

  "Gone?" Cherrychomp started to ventilate rapidly. "Gone where?" Ruby pools glistened. "They can't be gone... I'll go too! I wanna go too!"

  Puddingpuff's chest ached as she watched the little red fairy fight so hard to hold back the tears, just as Merrymint had always instructed. "I'm sorry..."

  "Tomorrow's tomorrow?" yelped Cherrychomp. "They'll be back tomorrow's tomorrow?"

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Puddingpuff could no longer summon her voice. All she could do was lower her gaze and shake her head.

  "No," whimpered Cherrychomp. She gasped for breath. Gulped for air. Her eyes and nose trickled even if she refused to cry. "Can't be. It's a fib! You're a fibber! Stop fibbin'!"

  Puddingpuff shakily walked toward her and crouched down. She offered Merrymint's stained hat. Cherrychomp yanked it from her grasp and stumbled past her, heading closer to the treeline.

  "Merry'! Wintywish!" screamed the little red fairy. "Come back! Don't be gone! You're not allowed to be gone!" Her legs buckled. She fell to the settling snow and squashed the hat to her chest, as if it might ease her tearing heart. "I was good! I did the promises! I promise to be good forever an' ever! Just... Just come back!!"

  Try as she might, sniffing and shaking and clenching sharp teeth, Cherrychomp could endure no longer. The floodgates opened. Unbearable howls shook the crisp air.

  Puddingpuff, Sunshine, Cutiehorn and Cherrychomp wouldn't be the only ones to cry that day. Almost all found the news impossible to accept. Even the usually harsh Dollymop.

  The Royal Tailor must've outlived generation after generation of Fairy Princesses, each time crafting the perfect outfits just so they could lose their lives to unspeakable horrors. Perhaps by feigning hatred, she'd hoped to lessen such blows. 'Why do you girls keep doing this?' she'd sobbed. 'Stop. Please, just stop. I can't take it anymore...'

  Titania practically shattered upon her return. Seeing her wail with inconsolable grief shook Puddingpuff to the core. She'd thought Titania had cared nothing for them, yet the grim news had broken the supposedly indomitable monarch instantly.

  In her distress, Titania had Sunshine sent to the prison tower for disobedience. An impulsive, but somewhat understandable initial reaction. Puddingpuff would counsel mercy at the next meeting, for despite the feathered fairy's recklessness, there was no direct link between her actions and the loss of their sisters.

  Cutiehorn had attempted to surrender the title of leader, and even tried to relinquish the faesteel shield, though no one was willing to take either.

  "Do not attribute yourself a share of the blame," said Puddingpuff. "It belongs to the aggressors alone."

  She was, of course, painfully aware how unreasonable it was for her to say so, for her own negligence was the primary cause. Not only had she underestimated the villains at their door, but she'd also guided Titania's suspicions abroad. In all likelihood, her distribution of brass scopes to the populace had contributed to the enemy's intel too. The eyes she'd provided Rainbow City could've been monitoring her sisters for weeks, months, or perhaps even years...

  Soon, she'd set about closing those traitorous eyes forever.

  Despite the continuous snow and insufficient clothing, some chose to remain outside, for Cherrychomp refused to budge from where she'd fallen. She clung to the bloodstained hat and waited for Merrymint and Winterwish to miraculously emerge from the treeline.

  Puddingpuff had tried to keep the worst of the cold from them with her parasol, but as day fell to night, both Cutiehorn and Bubblebun started to shiver and turn blue-lipped.

  "Go inside. I'll stay with her," said Puddingpuff.

  Cutiehorn didn't even look up. "It's fine. I'll stay. As long as it takes."

  Puddingpuff leaned a little closer and lowered her voice. "This could take a while. If things keep escalating then you two will need your strength. Rest up and remain strong for the fights to come."

  Bubblebun put a hand to Cutiehorn's arm. "She's right," she said stiffly.

  The knight loosed a heavy sigh and turned toward the palace. "...I'm sorry."

  "Enough," said Puddingpuff. "If you've still got the energy to move your jaw, then go eat something."

  She watched Cutiehorn start to shuffle up the hill, but Bubblebun remained. Iridescence glared.

  Does she... know something? Come to think of it, she was rather prickly on our return from Songflower too...

  "Are you coming, Bubblebun?" called Cutiehorn.

  "...Yeah." Bubblebun snapped to her senses. She looked to the little red fairy sitting in the snow. "Give me a few minutes. I'll bring blankets and firewood. Enough to see you through the night."

  "Actually, there's one more thing..." said Puddingpuff.

  When Splishsplash had first presented the crate of candles, Puddingpuff had felt a fool for not foreseeing such a misunderstanding. Now, however, she was most thankful. Over the next few hours, she and Cherrychomp unpacked and lit each one until the surrounding snow flickered like an ocean of tiny lights.

  After that, the little red fairy's tears ceased to flow, though Puddingpuff suspected that was more due to exhaustion than acceptance.

  ...Might as well see what this tragedy afforded us, I suppose.

  "Cherrychomp, my dear, how's that nose of yours?"

  The little red fairy responded only with a snot-clogged sniff.

  "Charming. Well, be a good girl and let me know if you see someone coming. We can't have anyone sneaking up on us now, can we?" Puddingpuff reached into a frilly pocket and retrieved several sheets of aged paper.

  In truth, she'd not planned to leave any trace of her visit to Titania's Chambers, but the first flare had launched before she'd had a chance to complete her search. In that instant she'd been presented a choice. Leave with nothing, or risk removing pages from an ancient tome she'd just discovered. Considering the record of royal lineages hadn't been updated in over a thousand years, she'd decided to play the odds and tear free the final entries for later reading. A gamble she dearly hoped would pay out in her favour.

  She shifted her gaze frequently, taking in only a few words at a time before checking her surroundings, again and again, until it was done. Knowledge was absurdly difficult to assimilate without context. Stray words had a habit of sneaking by without one realising their proper relevance. In this case, the paper she held was little more than a list of forgotten families who ruled over lands no one remembered.

  Once upon a time, a man known as King Hyperian had reigned and sired two daughters. The eldest, Princess Nix had died unwed, whilst the youngest, Princess Nym, had married a lord of unrecorded renown. Whoever succeeded them remained unwritten.

  Hyperian... Nym... Nix...

  "What happened to you?" whispered Puddingpuff. She glanced up to see sad, red eyes shining in the dark.

  "...'Ow long they gonna be gone for, Puddypuff?" It was the same question Cherrychomp had asked a dozen times before.

  Puddingpuff carefully returned the pages to her pocket. "You do understand what we mean by gone, don't you? They've passed on. Departed. Died."

  Candlelight danced within clueless ruby mirrors. It was as if the little red fairy were looking right through her. Like the words just weren't connecting.

  "People don't come back from death, Cherrychomp. You know that. It's a deep, deep sleep. One that never ends."

  The small girl shook her head rapidly, as if refusing the entire possibility. "...What do we do while we wait for 'em?"

  Perhaps it's still too soon. I suppose she'll accept it when she's ready.

  Puddingpuff rolled her lips whilst pondering the question. Of all the words in her vast vocabulary, only one came to mind. "...Revenge."

  Cherrychomp frowned. "Merry' says revenge is no good. Merry' says a pie for a pie makes the 'ole world 'ungry... I think it means stealin's no good."

  Puddingpuff wrinkled her nose. There were many places she could start in correcting the little red fairy, but now was not the right time. "...Indeed. Merrymint was a kind soul. Winterwish too. I am not. I'll be making sure any who dare to test our appetites starve."

  Cherrychomp tucked her knees to her chest. "I wish I could ask Merry'... She always knows what's right an' what's wrong. Whenever am confused she explains stuff for me in a way I can understan'... Splishysplash was my first Mentor, but Merry' is like... a forever Mentor."

  "You still have family. We'll do what we can. If you ever need something explaining you can always ask me. But in terms of right and wrong..." Puddingpuff hesitated, "...I suppose it would be best to ask Cutiehorn."

  For a moment, she'd considered naming Bubblebun too. The ribboned rabbit had a stronger sense of righteousness than most, but was often a little too quick to judge, and even quicker to sentence. Cutiehorn would provide far more reasonable and restrained guidance.

  "I can't ask you, Puddypuff?"

  "On matters of morality? That would be ill-advised, especially from here on out. I have allowed restraint to stifle my measures for far too long. This viper is done delivering dry bites. Merrymint and Winterwish wouldn't want you involved in such venomous matters." Puddingpuff quickly realised she should've used plainer terms when she gleaned the uncertainty upon Cherrychomp's face.

  "What about Sunnyshine?" asked Cherrychomp. "She seemed 'urt... an' 'er face was all sad again... Even sadder than ever..."

  "Indeed... Things have become quite kerfuffling, Cherrychomp."

  The little red fairy frowned her thousandth frown of the night. "Merry' used to call me Cherry'. You used to call me Imp. I won't have no nicknames while she's away."

  Puddingpuff raised an eyebrow. "Did you prefer those names?"

  "Dunno... Maybe? Why'd you stop?"

  "I promised someone. A good friend."

  "Oh..." Cherrychomp looked to her little fingers. "...Promises to frens is important."

  Puddingpuff tilted her head back. She shifted the parasol, only covering Cherrychomp a moment, so she might gaze up at the night sky and watch the snowflakes descend like lazy stars. "They certainly are. I believe in time, myself and this particular friend would've grown rather close. She had great potential. Too much, if anything. But... I do not believe she would've asked such a thing of me if she knew you were fond of the name. That's the thing about intentions. They should be evaluated upon their own merit, not their results."

  When Puddingpuff lowered her gaze, she found Cherrychomp just as confused as before. She loosed a sigh and crouched down.

  Keep it simple...

  "It hurts, doesn't it?" she asked.

  "Lots. An' lots an' lots. More than anythin'. Like am broke, an' won't be fixed 'til they're back..."

  Puddingpuff retrieved a handkerchief from her pocket and delicately dabbed at her sister's fresh tears. "That's quite normal, and it's ok to feel that way right now. We can be sad. We can be angry. We can cry. As much as we need to, for as long as it takes. But there is one very important thing I need you to do."

  Cherrychomp sniffed until she could respond. "What's that?"

  "When you think of Merrymint and Winterwish, I want you to remember the fun you had together. All the games you played. All the times you laughed. All the messes you made, if you must. Those are the most precious memories. The ones you need to hold close and carry with you forever. In here." Puddingpuff tapped upon her aching heart. "Whenever it starts to hurt, I want you to think about those happy times, so that one day, you can think back on them and smile again."

  Cherrychomp's face creased with pain as if the impossible was being asked of her.

  "I know it's hard, but you must try your best," said Puddingpuff. "It's what Merrymint and Winterwish would want. I'm sure if they could do one last thing, it'd be to make you happy again. Look around. They made it snow, right? Just for you."

  Cherrychomp closed her eyes to try and stop the salty streams.

  "Do you think you can do it? Will you promise to try, Imp?"

  A dainty hand lifted. A little finger extended.

  Puddingpuff hooked it with her own, sealing the pact, and with her other hand, reached out to scratch at the imp's scarlet scalp. "Good girl."