《Wish Granted: The Making of a Fairy Godmother》 1. Party Preparation Clover Quinn''s sixteenth birthday, the magical day she was to receive the powers of a fairy godmother, was turning into a disaster. Crouched on the rickety roof of a chicken coop, Clover gasped for air as a large, furious rooster flapped its wings, trying to land on the roof and peck the teenage fairy. Throwing eggs at the rooster had only enraged it further. "You know," she shouted, her voice strained in frustration, "you could help instead of laughing at me, Lily." Outside the fenced-in chicken run, her human friend since childhood wiped away tears of laughter. "I''d sooner fight a mountain bear than that rooster. Why do you need so many eggs, anyway?" Clover kicked a foot in the rooster''s direction. "They''re for the baker." "Well then, why isn''t he here?" "He''s too busy making the pies and extra pastries for my birthday party tonight." "And what do you need extra pastries for?" "To exchange with the candlemaker for my centerpiece candles. I don''t have enough money to pay her¡ªaaand to pay the fiddle player." "Fiddle player?" Lily''s head popped up, eyes wide. "Tell me you convinced Declan O''Shea to come into town to play for your party," Lily said, her eyes wide with disbelief. "You know, someday¡ª". "¡ªYou''re going to convince him to marry you." Lily''s excitement had her mouth racing to keep up with her thoughts. "I need to get a bath¡­and comb my hair. What am I going to wear? I should wear a dress¡­but then I''ll need to borrow nice shoes I can dance in." Clover swatted at the rooster and yelled, "There won''t be a party to dance at if you don''t help me gather eggs." The tomboy was already climbing over the fence as she said, "I''ll distract the rooster while you sneak into the coop." She waved her arms. "Hey, you big, dumb rooster. You''re done keeping Clover from hiring my future husband!" While Lily ran around in circles and stayed just out of the rooster''s reach, Clover filled two buckets with eggs. Both girls were covered in dirt and feathers by the time they escaped. "Thanks, Lil. I owe you." Lily was already in motion as she said, "Thank me later. I have to run." "But the party isn''t for another twelve hours." Covered in mud, feathers, and chicken manure, Lily said, "Look at me. It will take hours to make myself Declan O''Shea ready." "You do look like you could hire yourself out as a scarecrow." "Funny," Lilly said before she paused and pointed. "Is that chicken poop on your shoes?" Clover looked at her feet. "Ha! Made you look. Go run your chores. See you tonight," Lilly said as she hurried home. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. * * * The tiny Irish village of Glenaleen sat nestled in a lush emerald valley split by a mountain stream. Villagers spent their days herding sheep, working at the lumber mill, or casting their fishing lines into the meandering stream. Less than two dozen thatched roof cottages clustered around a central market square. A human could stroll from one end to the other in ten minutes. For a petite fairy girl the journey took twice as long¡ªwhen her arms weren''t full. Two buckets of eggs, Clover discovered, felt like two buckets of rocks for her. I should have waited to tell Lily about Declan and had her carry the eggs. The heavy buckets of eggs swinging precariously at her sides, she lumbered toward the bakery. Just a little further, she kept telling herself, gritting her teeth against the strain. The kind-hearted baker noticed her struggling and rushed out to assist her. "You''re just in time," he said, his voice urgent. "The first tray of pastries is fresh from the oven. Miss Brennan loves her pastries hot. Hurry before they cool." Clover handed over the second bucket of eggs and grabbed the tray of pastries. She hustled as fast as her short legs could manage to the candlemaker''s shop. Balancing the tray in one hand, she grabbed the door handle. The door swung open, jerking her off balance. No, no, no! Clover''s heart sank as she watched half the pastries fly off and hit the ground. "I''m so sorry," said the customer. Clover recognized him as one of the local hunters who lived at the base of the mountains. Her jaw tightened. How did he not see me? Instead of demanding compensation for the dirty pastries, she reminded herself today was special, forced a smile, and swallowed her frustration. "It was my fault, really. Didn''t have a proper grip on the tray." "Well, I''m sure the birds will enjoy them," he said and walked away. This time, she backed through the door. The candlemaker, Saoirse Brennan, was immediately drawn to the mouth-watering scent of freshly baked pastries. She set aside the candle pins she''d been placing into candle molds and snatched the tray of pastries from Clover. "Where''s the rest?" she asked, while popping one into her mouth. Even with the baker''s warning, the woman''s ravenous fixation on the pastries surprised Clover. Her voice flustered, she replied, "I dropped them. Sorry." "Hmm. This isn''t enough to cover the candles you ordered," Miss Brennan said out of the corner of her mouth. I knew I should have asked him to pay. Too late now. I have to make this work. "Will you accept half now and half tomorrow?" That seemed like a fair compromise, although it would mean helping the baker again in exchange for more pastries. The woman nearly choked on the third pastry as she spoke. "Sure, if you want half as many candles." "The party is tonight. I need a centerpiece for every table." Miss Brennan''s eyes lit up. "That''s right! You''re the fairy girl who''s going to become our fairy godmother." She rummaged under the counter and pulled out a box of rejects. "How about these odd-sized candles, free of charge?" Despite living in Glenaleen since age two, a third of the townspeople hadn''t bothered to learn Clover''s name. When they called her ''fairy girl'' they meant it kindly, of course. It always made her feel like she would only ever be considered ''Other''. A curiosity living among humans. Hearing it today of all days cut like a knife. Lost in thought, Clover realized the candlemaker was waiting for an answer. She eyed the odd assortment of candles warily. "How long will they burn? I ordered eight-hour candles." The candlemaker picked out the largest candle and eyeballed it for a moment. "They''re not as big, but if you light them at seven, they should last until midnight. Make sure they''re in a candleholder. The ends aren''t capped so you could start a fire if they burn for that long." Clover sighed. She had no other choice. "I''ll take the candles and candleholders. Could you give me a birthday discount?" Saoirse scrutinized Clover like she was seeing her for the first time. "Is it true you''ll be able to grant wishes?" "That''s what I''ve been told." "I''ve heard the fairy godmother in Bryn has made them prosperous with her magic. Consider the candleholders a gift¡­ for now, so long as your magic isn''t a trick like the fake magician in the traveling circus." "Thank you." Clover scooped up her items and exited the shop. She dropped the candles and holders in her hut. With the last of her trades completed, she grabbed her coin purse and hurried to the market square. 2: Birthday Party Clover navigated the modest, but bustling, morning market, stopping at various shops and stalls to purchase supplies for her birthday party. The scent of fruits, vegetables, and assorted roasted meats filled the air as villagers hawked their wares. Arriving before they closed up and headed to their day jobs, she knew she could bargain for better prices. "Morning, Miss Clover!" called the butcher, packing up her order of cold cuts. "Me and the missus are looking forward to your party. I can''t believe Glenaleen will have a fairy godmother again. No more having to wait until we go to Bryn or Dunmire." With a polite smile, she handed over the payment, her mind heavy with the growing expectations and the upcoming metamorphosis. At the cheese stand, the merchant wrapped up a wheel of velvety soft goat cheese. "Think you could magic me up a herd of self-milking goats after your birthday?" he asked with a wink. "Then I wouldn''t have to pay Vakur Doyle to help." "That would certainly be something if I could, but he likes helping out." Clover replied, moving on before he could respond. The blacksmith was heating iron billets in his fiery forge as Clover scrutinized his selection of table knives and serving spoons. "I hear congratulations are in order. Our resident fairy girl is finally becoming a fairy godmother. I''m looking forward to you revitalizing the magic of Glenaleen. The effectiveness of my enchanted cutlery and tools has steadily declined every year since your mum died." She bit her tongue. The party is a celebration of my transition into womanhood, not about taking over the job of a mother I don''t remember. Clover gathered her purchases and then struggled to keep from dropping all the party supplies as she rushed back home, her mind focused on the remaining tasks. She narrowly dodged her elderly neighbor, who ambled into her path. "Sorry, Mrs. O''Toole. Kind of in a hurry." Mrs. O''Toole grabbed the sleeve of Clover''s dress. "Turning sixteen today. You''re going to get your wish powers like your mother! You know, I was one of her biggest customers." "I hope to be as good as her someday," Clover said as she escaped what was certain to be a long, rambling story. * * * Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. With time slipping away, Clover darted around the village green, swiftly adorning and arranging tables and benches for the party. Her neighbor and foster-father, Vakur Doyle, came to help. He was a tall, muscular man of Viking heritage. The task of hanging lanterns from the trees seemed effortless for him. Their tasks complete, he grasped her shoulder with a massive, calloused hand. "You did an amazing job of transforming the place. Hard to believe the little Clover who used to ride on my shoulders is turning into a woman. Mrs. Doyle would have been so proud." A sense of joy filled Clover as she reminisced about her years of care by Mrs. Doyle as she put out food for her guests. As the last of the preparations were completed, guests began to arrive. Everyone buzzed with excitement about Clover becoming a fairy godmother. She overheard the baker wishing for an oven that could bake a dozen pies at once. A farmer wanted sheep with wool that came off as easy as removing a jacket. As she mingled with her guests, a dull ache gnawed at her heart, casting a shadow over the festivities. The party was turning into a repeat of her experience at the market. Is no one here just to celebrate my birthday? A loud, girlish squeal pierced the air as muscular arms wrapped around her, threatening to crush the air from her lungs. Lily! Clover spun around. Lily was radiant in an elegant dress, a stark contrast to her usual work clothes. She had transformed from a sweaty, dirt-covered tomboy into a radiant young woman. "Happy birthday, Clover. Goodness, it looks like the whole town is here," Lily said while stuffing an entire pastry in her mouth. "They''re all eager for me to become a fairy godmother. It''s making me anxious because I don''t feel any different," she confided. As Lily spoke, bits of crust and filling erupted from her mouth like a miniature volcano. "Clover Quinn, you need to stop doubting yourself. You''re going to be a great fairy godmother." Clover hugged her friend tighter and rested her head on Lily''s comforting shoulder. "What if I can''t figure out how to grant wishes and disappoint everyone?" "Then you''ll learn and get better," Lily replied with assurance. "Besides, Glenaleen hasn''t had a fairy godmother since we were toddlers. How bad could you be?" She''s right. If it were difficult, someone would have come and given me training before today. Her spirits lifted, Clover threw herself into the celebration. She flitted about like a hummingbird, doing her best to be a perfect host. Throughout the evening, she found herself laughing until her sides ached, watching Lily''s clumsy attempts at courtship. The love-struck girl was so focused on the fiddler that she often missed a step while dancing. Her attempts at flirting were even clumsier, but she''d fail and try again a few minutes later. She was as persistent as the rooster that had tormented them that morning. The party lasted until the candles sputtered and dwindled, casting flickering shadows upon the partiers. She bid her guests goodnight. The excitement of the party and her anticipation for the morning should have kept her awake. However, once she was alone, the lure of her bed was an irresistible force. She fell into the deepest sleep of her life. 3. Double-edged Wand Clover awoke to golden rays of sunshine streaming in through her windows, casting a warm glow across her room. Her skin tingled with an unfamiliar energy, a mixture of excitement and trepidation. Then her eyes fell on a delicate wood wand attached to the end of a thin branch that had grown out of the wall during the night. She detached the wand from the branch, her fingers tracing the delicate carvings etched into the polished willow wood. It''s a real magic wand. Holding the wand, the reality hit her, and a flutter of uncertainty stirred in her stomach. I''m a fairy godmother. A trail of sparkling motes filled the air as she waved the wand around. The sight was both enchanting and mesmerizing. She tapped the tip on a few items around her hut, but nothing happened. Hmm, it doesn''t work by touching things. Maybe I have to say something, like for a spell. She chewed her lip. Noticing a dirty dish on the table, she said, "I wish that plate was clean." Her heart fluttered with anticipation as she focused on the plate. The wand vibrated in her hand, its tip pulsating with a soft yellow radiance like a captured firefly. Motes raced to the plate and formed a small cloud over it. In the blink of an eye, the plate was clean. The motes faded away, and the wand stopped vibrating. Hushed voices filled with a mix of excitement and uncertainty drifted in through the open window. Clover snuck to the window and peered outside to see a small crowd. Her neighbors and friends waited expectantly, sharing their chore-ending wishes with each other. Determined not to let their selfish desires dampen her spirits, Clover resolved to prove herself. She hurried to dress, drew a deep breath, and stepped outside, wand in hand. "Clover!" Little Timmy squealed, holding out his beloved stuffed bear, eyes gleaming with anticipation. "Can you use your magic to fix Teddy''s ripped arm?" "Let me see what I can do." Silence descended upon the crowd as she waved her wand over the bear and said, "Repair this bear." Palpable anticipation filled the air as she focused on the bear. Nothing happened and the crowd fell silent, all eyes on her. She replayed the actions in her mind that she used with the dinner plate earlier and tried again. The wand remained inert. She cleared her tight throat. "It worked earlier. Maybe it needs a minute to recharge." A woman''s voice said, "Timmy, say it as a wish." Timmy looked at Clover. His eyes showed a mix of hope against concern she would fail again. "I wish my teddy bear was like new." The wand vibrated again as she tapped the stuffed bear. A thin stream of motes sparkled around the bear. It was pristine and new. Then, before everyone''s eyes, the fixes came undone. The seam split, and the arm swung loose again. Timmy''s face fell. Clover''s heart ached as she saw the disappointment in his eyes. "I''m sorry, dear. I''m still learning." Other villagers called out their own wishes. Clover granted a few small wishes - tarnished pots and pans made shiny again, chipped crockery repaired. Small wishes that could have easily been accomplished with manual labor. The more elaborate wishes she granted, like fixing a broken mantle clock missing some gears and springs, were temporary. More than once, she failed to meet the expectations of the crowd and herself. The villagers offered polite smiles and gave her half-hearted encouragement, but their voices betrayed the disappointment. "You''ll get it. Just takes practice is all." One by one, they drifted away, back to their daily lives. She watched them go; wand heavy in her hand. She had much to learn before she could make them happy. Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. Over the following week, as Lily had predicted, Clover worked hard to become better at granting wishes. As her abilities improved, the villagers found new ways to push the limits of her skill. * * * The MacKay family raised the chickens whose eggs Clover supplied to the baker. When she went to thank them for their generosity, Fiona MacKay approached her with a wish. "Clover, you know how busy Angus is between working the farm and cutting trees for lumber." "Yes, ma''am I do. I think I''ve only ever seen him relax a dozen times in my life." "Well, we''ve been wanting to add another room for ages. Now that we''re becoming grandparents an extra bedroom has become a necessity." She looked at her husband with admiration. "My poor Angus never has the spare time. We considered hiring someone, but we''re short of money." "What my wife is trying to say is, Fairy Godmother Quinn, can you use your magic to build our room?" Clover placed a hand on Fiona''s arm. "Congratulations. I know how much you love kids." She turned to face Angus. "I''ve noticed you have all the construction materials in the yard. Which is good. I don''t think I can make things out of thin air." Clover hesitated, her gaze flickering with uncertainty. I can do this. I have to prove myself. "However, I can''t make any promises because I have trouble making big wishes last. Are you still willing to try?" Angus and Fiona exchanged a brief glance, then nodded in agreement. "OK, I''ve learned for big wishes, it helps if we wish together to draw on more magic. Mrs. MacKay, grab my hand and Mr. MacKay hold her other hand. Concentrate and repeat after me, "I wish for another room to be built onto the house." In unison, they recited the wish incantation. Energy surged through Clover as her wand warmed, pulsing in harmony with the rhythm of her racing heartbeat. This feels¡­ right. I know it''s going to work this time. From the tip of her wand, a cascade of shimmering sparkles erupted like a celestial waterfall, enveloping the building materials in a mesmerizing light. With an unseen force guiding their movements, the materials assembled themselves. Bricks were stacked, windows framed and set, and the door hung, as if by the hands of invisible workers. Five minutes later, the new room looked as if it had always been part of the cottage. Mr. MacKay narrowed his eyes, as if trying to conceal his amazement. He shook the door and windows and kicked the base of the walls. "It''s solid and fine craftsmanship, Little Clover Blossom," he said with a nod. "Grab as many eggs as the rooster will allow whenever you want." Mrs. MacKay gave him a stern look and slapped him on the shoulder. "You wouldn''t dare put her through that again." Clover thrilled at the pet name he''d called her since she was a young girl. Elation filled her heart. She had fulfilled a wish that seemed deserving. More gratifying was that the room didn''t collapse into rubble. The oppressive weight of self-doubt she had carried for days now lifted from her slender shoulders. She was as light and carefree as a feather floating on the breeze. Her feet barely touched the ground as she sought out Lily. * * * After a morning of completing odd jobs, the girls walked to Clover''s place. It was the first time they''d talked since the birthday party. Lilly wore a permanent smile on her face. Although she was looking at Clover, her attention was turned inward. Her voice had lost it''s normal gruffness. "Declan is polite and treats me nice, but he''s still not smitten. I''ll win his heart yet if I can figure out how. He''s not like the rugged farmhands I work with. He''s a delicate soul with the heart of an artist." Clover squinted and half-grinned at Lilly as she said, "Who are you and what have you done with my friend?" Lily''s voice grew serious. "Marrying Declan has been my dream for years. Unlike you, I can''t wave a magic wand to make dreams come true." Clover studied her friend''s face and saw her fierce determination. "I know you will find a way, Lil. You''ve always been a force of nature by never accepting that failure is final. Anything I can do to help?" Lily looked away and stammered, "Can you explain to me what a salad is? He really likes the salads his mother makes." She cupped her hands, forming the shape of an imaginary bowl. "I tried one. It''s a weird jumble of vegetables and goat food in a bowl. Imagine a vegetable soup without any water or meat." She gave a small, involuntary shudder. "If I can learn how to make a salad as good as hers, maybe he''ll see I''m more than a tomboy and a loudmouth." "I''m sure you''ll figure it out, Lil." Clover paused before declaring, "Just so you know, I can''t wave my wand and make anything I want to happen. I still fail at granting wishes as often as I succeed." "So I''ve heard. Thomas the fisherman nearly earned himself a black eye for bad-mouthing you." "He has a right to be mad. After I built an extra room for Mr. and Mrs. MacKay, he came asking me to do the same for him. The MacKays had lumber and stone and glass. Thomas had driftwood and some gravel." She exhaled deeply. "That eyesore won''t stand up to a light rain." She shrugged. "I tried my best." Lily shook her head. "You''ve always been a people pleaser, even to those who mistreated you. I won''t argue that the MacKays deserve what you did for them." She raised her voice, exasperated. "What you''re not hearing about is all the jealousy your act of kindness for them has created." "I''m a fairy godmother. Isn''t that what I''m supposed to do? Besides, the wand doesn''t grant every wish, so it must have safeguards." A gust of cold air swept down from the mountains, stirring up dust. Lilly''s hair ruffled in the breeze as she planted herself in front of Clover, hands on her hips. "People will ask for bigger things. Being who you are, you''ll try, and it will get you into a heap of trouble. Mark my words, Clover Quinn, you need to learn how to set boundaries to protect yourself from being taken advantage of." 4. A Wish Too Far Unlike the human cottages made of stone, wattle, and thatch, Clover''s modest fairy hut was a living, growing structure. Integrated into the hollow trunk of a giant willow, it adapted and sprouted new rooms and nooks as she matured. The tree house was more than a home; it was an extension of Clover. The tree stood in a small, unused field next to the Doyle''s cottage. Childless, Mr. and Mrs. Doyle had taken Clover under their wing when she was young. They were the closest thing to parents she had ever known. Since Mrs. Doyle''s untimely passing last year, Clover spent every Sunday helping Mr. Doyle with chores. She cleaned, helped with the laundry, and prepared enough meals to last him the week. The kitchen was missing some ingredients, so Vakur gave her money for a quick trip to the market. He told her to purchase the best fish she could find. The fish she selected was too large and cumbersome, so Thomas the Fisherman helped deliver it. Before he departed, she grabbed his arm. "I''m really sorry about that new room¡­ and the embarrassment it''s caused you. When you find more materials, I''d be happy to try again." Clover prepared and baked the fish. Then she and Vakur enjoyed a sumptuous meal together. As they ate, his eyes avoided her gaze when asking how she was doing. When the last morsel was gone, he lingered at the table, picking dirt from his fingernails. She washed the dishes in the sink and asked about his week. "It''s getting more difficult to find steady work," he said. "No telling when I''ll be able to afford a meal like that again. Seemed appropriate, though, to celebrate your becoming the town Fairy Godmother." He pushed his chair back and cleared his throat. "I''m not asking for a fortune but I, uh, I wish I had more money." She scrubbed the last dirty plate, keeping her back to him. "Who doesn''t want more money? Vakur remained silent for a moment. "Those are the words I''m supposed to say, right?" Clover''s shoulders tightened as she concentrated on drying the dishes. She forced a lightness into her voice. "Those are the words if you were wishing for something like that." "So what happens next? Do the coins appear on the table?" She squeezed the dish towel tight and let out a nervous laugh. "Well, I''d need my wand too. But that''s not a wish I would grant. Can you imagine if everyone suddenly had all the money they wanted? " Vakur''s voice grew gruffer. "I wasn''t talking about everyone else, and I''m not interested in a bigger house. Work has dried up. I''m barely scraping by. A little financial boost is all I''m asking for." He cleared his throat and repeated, "I wish I had more money." Clover''s breath grew rapid, her heart fluttering like a trapped bird. He wouldn''t ask for something like that. He didn''t mean to say those words. She gripped the plate tightly to hide her shaking hands. Keeping her voice light was a struggle. "It''s getting late. I should finish up and tidy the kitchen," she said, hoping her voice disguised her escalating panic. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. Vakur''s chair screeched back. "Put down the plate and take out your wand." The tone of his voice made it clear it was a demand, not a request. Clover''s throat tightened. "Please, I''ll do anything else to help like come by twice a week. Granting that wish wouldn''t be right." In two thunderous steps, Vakur loomed behind her. Clover froze as his thick hands clamped her shoulders. He effortlessly yanked her around to face him. He loomed over her at twice her height. His usually kind eyes narrowed to slits, his face flushed red. "After everything I''ve done for you, this is how you repay me?" he spat. "By refusing my only wish!" Clover tried to shrink back, but the sink trapped her. Clutching the towel tight, she stammered, "I don''t mean to seem ungrateful, but¡­" Vakur''s face contorted in rage. Clover flinched, thinking he might strike her. "You owe me, girl. If it weren''t for you, I wouldn''t be in this bind." He leaned in close and growled, "Grant my wish." Tears sprang to Clover''s eyes. "Please," she whispered. "Don''t make that wish. You know it''s not right." Vakur roared, jabbing a finger in her face. "The Pact requires you to serve the people of this village. If it weren''t for us, you''d be a feral orphan hunted every night by the creatures of the forest. We protected you. I protected you! Now keep your side of the bargain, fairy!" Her lips quivered as she fought back tears. She wanted to run, to hide, but where could she go? He was like a father to her. The wish was wrong, but how could she deny him? She lowered her eyes and, helpless to resist, pulled out her wand. She whispered, "Tell me your wish again." He shoved his coin purse in her face. His voice was calm, almost apologetic. "I don''t want charity. When I make money, I wish everything I put into this will double." Even using both hands to hold it, the wand jittered in her hands. A wan stream of uncertain motes wandered around the tip. The coin purse crackled and sparked when she tapped her wand on it. Vakur released his grip and sat down. He didn''t look up as Clover fled the house, sprinting blindly to her hut. Scalding tears burned her eyes and cheeks as she fumbled with the door. She felt hollowed out and cold, as if her heart had been ripped from her chest. Clover''s mind reeled, awash in a storm of thoughts and shame. Emotions collided within her, overwhelming her ability to sort them. Mr. Doyle rarely lost his temper, and even more rarely directed it at someone. When his dander got up, Mrs. Doyle had always been there to calm him. Clover had never seen such raw anger and aggression from him. A haunting thought seized her: if the enchantment failed, he might storm in and demand she repeat the process. Panicked, Clover shoved the table and chairs against the flimsy door. The makeshift barrier would be no match for a man of his strength. Her trembling hands fought to stabilize the wand and enchant the entrance. No matter how hard she concentrated, the wand refused to respond. Trapped in her home, she felt vulnerable and alone. All she had ever wanted was to belong, to not be ''the fairy girl''. Now, the closest thing she had to family just turned on her. Tears scalded her cheeks as they flowed freely. She collapsed onto her bed and buried her face in the pillow, sobbing. If the man she thought of as a father could turn on her so easily, did the rest of the villagers view her the same way? Not as a girl or even a person, but a magical device to serve their own purposes? She cried until no more tears came, leaving her limp and hollow, staring up at the ceiling. As daylight faded to dusk, she remained curled up in her bed, her will shattered by the encounter with Mr. Doyle. Slipping into restless sleep, a desperate voice within her pleaded, "I can''t do this. I just want to be a normal girl." 5. Careful What You Wish For At dawn, Clover unbarricaded her door. She stumbled outside to find the willow branches hanging so low they scraped the ground. The grass was carpeted in dead leaves. She hurried to put as much distance as she could between herself and Vakur''s house. Clover trudged through the village in a daze, her heart heavy. Villagers approached, then veered away from her evident dismay. Only the most persistent dared ask for a wish. Near midday, she spotted Lily leaving the produce vendor''s stall and her dark mood brightened. "Hey, Lil." Clover''s voice wavered, her eyes darting to the bags in Lily''s hands. "Do you have time to talk? I really need your advice." "Sure. Grab a bag." Hefting the other bag, she pointed her feet toward home. "I could use your opinion on my salad making skills." Twice they were stopped on their short walk as Clover paused to fulfill the wishes of eager villagers. Each time, Lily''s smile tightened, shifting from foot to foot as she waited. When they arrived, Lily set to work making salads for them. "You can''t even walk down the street anymore without being stopped." Her voice was laced with concern. The knife increasingly slammed against the cutting board while chopping a cucumber. "That must get so annoying." Clover washed and separated the lettuce as they talked. Weariness tinged her voice. "Most wishes are for simple things so it''s not so bad." She grabbed a dish towel to dry her hands. "It''s easier to just grant their wish than to, uh, say anything that might¡­ anger them," she confessed. "I''m surprised anyone ever gets angry at you," Lily said while setting the table. They sat and ate. "That''s what I wanted to talk to you about," Clover said, pushing her food around her bowl. "Yesterday I went to the Doyle''s like I do every week. Everything was fine. Normal. Until we finished dinner." Her voice trailed off as the memory returned. "I was washing the dishes when he said he wished to be rich. When I said I can''t grant wishes like that, he¡­" She set her fork down and stared into the bowl. Her heart raced as she re-lived the trauma. "I''ve never seen him so angry. I was terrified and attempted to grant his wish when I knew it was wrong." A shudder ran through her. "I''m afraid to see him. Scared he will ask again." Fire burned in Lily''s eyes as she shoved her bowl aside, her nostrils flaring as she glared at Clover. "I warned you! You''re always so quick to please. And now they expect you to do anything they ask." She huffed and pointed her fork at Clover. "It''s your own fault and you have to face the consequences for what you''ve done." The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. Clover looked up at Lily, her eyes questioning. "Consequences for making people happy? I''m confused. Why does it feel like you''re angry at me and not him?" "First off, I am angry at him, but I can''t just go beat him up like the boys who bullied you." She leaned back in her chair and folded her arms. "Second, I sympathize with him. I can barely find odd jobs because nobody wants to work anymore." Her voice rose and turned derisive. "Why would they when Fairy Godmother Quinn can wave her wand and do it for them?" Clover pleaded. "I''m only trying to help like everyone expects. I didn''t know it was discouraging people from working." Lily''s gaze turned icy, her accusing words precise and measured. "But you did know that two weeks ago, I was in negotiations with Angus MacKay to help build that extra room. Or did you forget in your haste to do their bidding?" "That''s not fair," Clover protested. "They offered me all the eggs I needed for the party. It would be ungrateful to not help them." Lily folded her arms, glaring down at the table. "The more you help everyone else, the more I''m the one paying for it." She lifted her gaze, eyes flashing hurt and anger. "I wish you never got these powers. I wish things could go back to how they were before you became a fairy godmother." Time stopped, and so did Clover''s heart. Lily''s words hurt more than Mr. Doyle''s, echoing her secret doubts. "Lily, you can''t¡­ don''t ever say those words to me." She reached across the table. "Swear to me you''ll never make those wishes again." Lily''s face blanched white and tears welled up in her eyes. "I''m sorry, Clover. I didn''t mean it that way." She extended her arm, her fingertips barely touching Clover''s. "You know that?" The question hung in the air. She withdrew her arm. "It''s just, even if I could help¡­" she trailed off, her gaze sliding away. Neither girl looked at the other. Dumbstruck and unable to think of a response, Clover''s quiet broke the silence. "The salad tasted delicious." "Thanks," Lily said while cleaning the table. "I''ve got a lot going on right now." She turned away. "Thanks for helping with dinner." She busied herself at the sink, the clattering of dishes filling the silence between them. Clover stumbled out of Lily''s home, holding back the tears. With nowhere else to go, she returned to her hut on autopilot and crawled into bed, the weight of Lily''s words crushing her. Nothing makes sense anymore. The two people I care most about hate me. Maybe Lily is right and things are worse. Are fairy godmother powers actually a curse? Her eyes snapped open. No! She sat up, her heart pounding. People said they visit a fairy godmother in Bryn. They wouldn''t travel all that way for a curse. She sat in contemplation and worked through her feelings about the last few days. Memories of the past few days flashed through her mind, each one tinged with a new bitterness. Her stomach churned as every thought, every memory, led to a single, inescapable conclusion. It''s me. I''m the curse. Her throat tightened and new tears came to her eyes. To dad, and to Lilly. She sobbed until a new thought rose into her consciousness. I didn''t have these powers a week ago, so there must be a way to turn them off. Go back to just being a ''fairy girl.'' Emotionally drained, she pulled her blanket over her head and escaped into the mindless void of slumber. 6. A Perilous Journey Clover woke before dawn. Anxiety, rather than hunger, gnawed her insides as she replayed the confrontation with Vakur and Lily''s exasperated words in her mind. The fear of the unknown and the uncertainty of what lay ahead worked to weaken her resolve. She had to at least try, she thought, as she grabbed a hunk of cheese and slipped out the door. She ducked behind a scraggly bush, crouched down, and wove a Diversion Spell. For the next half hour, the spell would compel anyone who looked her way to avert their eyes. The Diversion Spell is why humans believe that wild fairies can only be seen in the fleeting glimpses of their peripheral vision. The spell enables fairies to hide in plain sight at the edge of perception. Before Clover realized she had abilities her childhood friends didn''t, she believed she was an exceptional Hide-and-Seek player. She hurried down the dusty road out of town. The memory of a furious Vakur Doyle, and Lily''s exasperated ''wishes'', spurring her on. The crow of the McKay''s rooster reminded her why she was gambling with her life on this solo journey. Pushing herself harder before she lost her nerve, she followed the winding road that led up and over the rugged Boggeragh Mountains. Lush, verdant fields and blossoming orchards stretched to the horizon. Morning sunlight turned overnight fog to steam that condensed into clouds. The fleeing clouds shed water weight as rain as they climbed the mountains. When the last of the clouds had burned off, the path over the mountains was revealed. The steep, winding mountain trail was treacherous after the early morning rain. Mud clung to Clover''s shoes, threatening to send her tumbling with each step. Determined to reach the peak, she soldiered on, only to lose her footing on the slick rocks. Blood oozed from scrapes on her knees and elbows, mixing with the mud streaking her dress. Finally, she hauled herself to the summit, exhausted and drenched to the bone. She paused to catch her breath while pulling the cheese from her pocket. Swallowing a bite, she looked out over the other side of the mountains. The sky was gray and sullen, the rain clouds casting a pall over the landscape below. The village of Bryn was just a speck in the distance, almost swallowed up by the inclement weather. Glenaleen and the comfort of her warm, dry bed beckoned from behind. Squinting against the distance, the familiar shape of her tree looked minuscule, unbelievably far away. This was the farthest she had ventured from the village alone, the realization both daunting and exhilarating. Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. Parents in Glenaleen often told their misbehaving children about a withered crone, older than the oldest trees, who wandered the fields and forests during the night. Her gnarled fingers could coax the very trees to life, commanding them to snatch up anyone who strayed too far from home. The Ancient Woman''s voice, they said, was like the creaking of branches in a storm. Children who were outside the village when the sun went down were never seen again. It was said that on quiet nights, you could hear their faint cries carried on the wind. Dismissing the childish tale, she turned toward Bryn. The town looked to be twice the distance. But between her and Bryn lay the ominous Coillte Dubha Woods, its dark reputation preceding it. The forest was said to be teeming with dangerous creatures that preyed on fairies, drawn to their magic. Fear gnawed at her core, but she was determined to keep moving. I get to Bryn, the fairy godmother makes my power go away, and Vakur and Lily forgive me. Everyone''s life goes back to normal¡­ or I get eaten on the way. Same result. Taking a deep breath to dismiss the grim thought, she squared her shoulders and started down the mountain. The many switchbacks on the path made the hike long and painful. Finally, she reached the bottom and faced the dreaded forest. She wasn''t prepared for the oppressive atmosphere of the woods as she stepped beneath the heavy canopy. Gnarled branches reached out like twisted claws, as if the towering trees themselves were trying to stop her. The air was thick with the scent of decay and something else¡­ something sinister. She glanced over her shoulder, half expecting to see something lurking in the shadows. The forest felt alive, watching her every move. The swaying branches creaked and groaned in a chorus of protest. Unidentifiable mumbling in an incomprehensible language seemed to answer from the forest depths. Was it the old woman of the forest hunting her? Fearful her sanity was slipping, Clover pushed her legs to their limit, racing through the woods with newfound urgency. Her lungs burned, her muscles ached, but the adrenaline coursing through her veins fueled her onward. I have to make it to Bryn. To safety and the answers I need. After an hour of brisk, adrenaline-fueled walking, Clover reached the market town of Bryn. A wooden palisade surrounded the town, unlike Glenaleen''s unguarded safety. Walls of stout, sharpened logs kept out the woods'' deadly creatures. The open gates gave access to a bustling market square filled with more vendors and shoppers than there were townspeople in the whole of Glenaleen. 7. Lessons in Being a Fairy Godmother The last time Clover visited Bryn was a fond, but hazy, memory from her childhood. People from far and wide had flocked to Bryn for a grand ceremony or jubilant celebration. As a child, the pageantry of the festivities had enthralled her, not the arrangement of the streets. Her destination unknown, Clover wandered through the bustling streets until she stumbled upon a modest ivy and flower-covered cottage with a well-tended garden at the far edge of town. There were no large trees in Bryn and it was the only house she''d seen that looked suitable for a fairy. Clover stood before the green door, water droplets falling from her damp hair into her eyes. She did her best to make herself look presentable before knocking softly. She waited, but there was no answer. What if I heard wrong and Bryn doesn''t have a fairy godmother? Now what do I do? Her shoulders slumped with the growing realization her journey had accomplished nothing. As she turned to walk away, a woman''s voice called out from behind her. "Excuse me, little girl. Was that you who knocked?" Clover turned to see a petite, middle-aged woman. Her salt-and-pepper hair was done up in a tidy bun and her eyes crinkled with kindness. Her teeth chattered while she spoke. "Hello, are¡­ are you.. the, the Fairy Godmother¡­ of Bryn?" "Yes, my name is Fairy Godmother Doherty." The woman looked her up and down. "Good gracious, you poor thing. How far did you travel to get here?" "Ov¡­ over the mountains, from Glen¡­ Glenaleen." She wrapped her arms around her to stop shivering. "My name is Fairy Godmother Clover Quinn." She shivered. "May I come in?" "Little Clover?" the woman exclaimed. "You''ve grown up¡ªand are a fairy godmother! Has it been that long? No wonder I mistook you for a human child." Fairy Godmother Doherty stepped aside, beckoned Clover in, and gestured to a chair by the fireplace. The earthy scent of dried herbs reminded Clover of the forest. Ancient tomes with cracked leather bindings covered every surface, creating an atmosphere of mystery and magic. Glowing embers in the fireplace bathed the room in a warm, inviting glow. While the elder woman added kindling and stoked the fire, Clover soaked in the heat. Fairy Godmother Doherty poured them both a steaming cup of herbal tea. Its aroma filled the air with a soothing fragrance. She refilled the kettle and then joined Clover by the fireplace. "Thank you, Fairy Godmother Doherty," Clover said while wrapping her chilled fingers around the warm cup. "You''re welcome, Fairy Godmother Quinn." Clover blushed. "I''m still getting used to the title after being just ''Clover'' all my life." Willowbud''s crinkled eyes sparkled with the same warmth as her tea. "No need to be formal. You can call me Willowbud. How may I help you?" Clover took a deep breath. "I''m figuring out how to use the wand to grant wishes, but I don''t know what I''m supposed to do as a fairy godmother." "Didn''t your mother teach you how to¡ª" Willowbud''s face flushed red. "Forgive me, I forgot Violetpetal Quinn was your mother. Such a tragedy. "For someone without a mentor, it sounds like you''ve figured out the mechanics. You''ll grow into the role, but I sense your true concern isn''t with your self-confidence. Why did you really brave the forest to come here?" "It''s all too much," Clover stammered, her bottom lip quivering. " I can''t do it." She blinked back the tears burning behind her eyes. Willowbud clasped Clover''s hand, her touch warm and comforting. ''Becoming a Fairy Godmother is a challenging transition,'' she said, her eyes filled with concern. "There''s something more, isn''t there? What really troubles you?" Clover poured out her heart, recounting her troubled lunch with Lily and the unsettling encounter with Mr. Doyle, divulging the details of his wish. "He''s always been like a father to me. When he grew angry, I became frightened. Then he mentioned a pact with humans. I felt trapped, with no choice but to grant his wish." Willowbud''s face darkened, and she nodded with grave concern as Clover continued. "As soon as I granted it, I became ill. I can barely sleep, tormented by what I have done." Her eyes pleaded as her voice sank to a whisper. "Please, tell me how to be rid of the power." The elder fairy put down her cup of tea. Her face no longer showed the pleasant features of a kindly older woman. "I see that you''re hurting, Clover, but I''m going to provide some tough love to save you from making a terrible mistake." Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Squirming beneath the stern gaze, Clover averted her eyes. "Fairies are a conduit for magic. Fairy godmothers draw it out, amplify it, and replenish it in the same way exercising a muscle increases its strength. Without a fairy godmother, your village has been using up its magic. Granting wishes and replenishing the magic is your role in the village, the same as the baker''s role is to bake bread." Clover stared at her hands clasped tight in her lap. She had come seeking answers, hoping to escape the overwhelming burden of her newfound responsibility. Instead, she''d been scolded and told to learn how to live with it. "What if I''m doing more harm, in the long run, than good? Surely, they''d want me to stop." "Maybe a handful of them could respect that decision, but an entire town?" Willowbud shook her head. "How many humans do you know that can resist the temptation of a delicious pastry sitting in front of them? They''ve had a taste of your magic, and they won''t be able to let it go." She leveled her gaze at Clover. "And neither could you." "I''ve only been a fairy godmother for a week. I''m certain I could stop¡ª" Willowbud leaned forward until Clover could feel the woman''s breath on her face, her eyes intense and unwavering. "There is something you must never speak of to any human, no matter how close you are to them." Her eyes darted around the room as if looking for eavesdroppers. "When a fairy godmother hears the words, ''I wish'' coupled with a wish, we are magically compelled to grant it. If you resist, the compulsion will only grow stronger until you give in. If a human learns this, they can use it to control you like the reins of a horse." Clover shuddered, remembering how powerless and violated she felt when she complied with Mr. Doyle''s wish. She recalled a cryptic remark he made while enraged. With a hushed voice, she asked, "Is it because of the Pact?" Fairy Godmother Doherty leaned back; her eyes distant. "The Pact. Many ages past, when humans were still new to these lands, magic was abundant. It was as ever-present as the air." "Where did the magic go?" "Everything that grows from a seed, is hatched, or is born absorbs some magic from the world. Humans multiply far faster than magical creatures and fae folk. Although they can''t wield magic, they learned to imbue magic into things they craft. Over the centuries, they depleted the magic of the world. With less ambient magic available, fewer magical creatures like fairies could exist. "Facing eventual extinction, we made a pact with the humans," Willowbud continued. "In exchange for lifelong protection and care, fairies pledged to use our unique connection to magic to grant human wishes." Clover sipped her tea, her ears focused on the story. "The delegation of fairies who forged the sacred Fairy and Humans Pact established two immutable rules," Willowbud said, holding up two crooked fingers. "First and foremost, the human must show worthiness of their wish, and not use it for harm or selfish desires." Clover flushed, thinking of Vakur. "Second, as stewards of magic, a fairy godmother may use discretion in how she grants the wish. Our only obligation is to satisfy the intent of the wish." A frown creased Clover''s brow as she contemplated this newfound revelation. The realization she possessed the ability to interpret and adapt wishes, rather than being bound to fulfill them verbatim, was both empowering and daunting. "If someone has already mentioned the Pact, there will be more difficult times ahead," Willowbud said. "I know you have it in you, even if you can''t see it yet. You will soon find the courage you need." Clover nodded, a new resolve strengthening her spine and amplifying her courage. Yet, a nagging concern lingered in the depths of her mind. "With the ability to make wishes come true, how will I know I am using my power responsibly?" Fairy Godmother Doherty''s eyes twinkled as she gave Clover''s hands a reassuring squeeze. "I''ll let you in on a trade secret, the people you serve are not all that complex to understand." Clover bristled. "The people of Glenaleen may not be as sophisticated as those in Bryn, but they''re not simple or stupid." Willowbud looked taken aback and then she reached out to grasp Clover by her shoulders. "That passion for your people is exactly what you need," she said. "However, that''s not what I meant." She sat back and continued dispensing advice. "Humans have considerably more opportunities than us, but they constrain themselves through lack of imagination or initiative. They take on roles and professions that align with their community''s needs, their innate talents, and where they live. A human raised in the mountains is far more likely to become a miner than a fisherman. That''s what his community needs. Conversely, those raised near bountiful waters are more inclined to find their calling in fishing." Clover nodded. "I have noticed that sons and daughters almost always choose the professions of their parents." Willowbud nodded. "Only a rare few humans want to radically change their circumstances and choose a different life. Their wishes are the most challenging. "During my many years as a fairy godmother, I''ve learned that most wishes fall into one of two categories. Either their wish is for something that gives them more fulfillment in their life or increases their happiness. Often, a change in one improves the other. Interact with your community. The more you know about their needs and desires, the more confident you''ll be in determining which of those two outcomes their wish truly seeks to achieve." "Until then, how do I decide which is appropriate?" Clover''s eyes searched Willowbud''s. "Trust your heart. It will tell you when you are on the right path." Clover stared into the fire. "Deep down, I knew I could never give up this new ability even if you had offered. But how can I know when my heart is on the right path? What if my emotions cloud my judgement?" The elder fairy snorted and laughed. "It will be apparent." She continued to chuckle while sipping her tea, not divulging any more information. Clover contemplated what she had learned as she finished her tea. She glanced out the window, startled to see the sun low on the horizon. "Thank you for everything, Willowbud," she said, rising from her chair. "I should get back before sunset." "Take care and remember all I''ve said." Clover embraced the older fairy before hurrying out the door, her steps light despite the long return journey ahead. 8. Ancient Wisdom Clover raced along the shadowy, twisted forest path, her breath coming in ragged gasps. I should have left earlier while the sun was still high. Since childhood, she had been warned about the dangers that prowled the Coillte Dubha Woods. Ancient, ravenous creatures stalked the shadows, eager to feast on anyone foolish enough to cross their paths in the dark. Wind whipped the trees and the distant, unintelligible whispers returned. A frigid chill gripped Clover and transported her to a childhood memory. She and Lily were playing Hide-and-Seek near Mrs. O''Toole''s cottage. Clover had hidden in a bush next to the house. She overheard Mrs. O''Toole explaining to a curious visitor how Clover''s mother fell ill. No one knew how to heal a fairy, so her parents left for Bryn. When her parents never returned, everyone assumed they had been devoured in these very woods. True or not, I don''t intend to join them. She quickened her pace, matching the speed of the racing questions in her mind. Fairy Godmother Doherty had imparted a lifetime of wisdom to her. Unpacking and reflecting on it would take time. Lost in thought, she let her feet guide her along the forest path. The abrupt appearance of an old lady in the middle of the path ended Clover''s musings. Her heart skipped a beat. Unless the woman was blind, she was exposed, unable to cast a Diversion Spell to hide herself. The woman''s frail body, bent by the weight of countless decades, seemed to sag beneath the burden of time. Her stringy, white hair cascaded like a silver waterfall down her hunched shoulders, and her thin, liver-spotted skin hung in loose folds. With each labored step, her gnarled hands leaned heavily on her cane. Her beady eyes, like two tiny black coals, peered out from beneath sagging eyelids, their gaze sharp and penetrating, as if they could see into Clover''s very soul. Clover''s eyes went wide. This wasn''t an old lady ¡ª it was an Ancient Woman, rumored to be the last of the wood dryads of mythology. "Good eve, child," the Ancient Woman croaked. "I''m headed to Fairy Godmother Doherty''s cottage. Is it much further? I keep asking the trees, but they are stubborn and unfriendly." A gust of wind caused the trees to creak and moan in protest. The woman rapped the closest tree with her cane and the wind settled down. "A mile or more," Clover replied as she stared in astonishment. The stories are true. She can control the trees. The woman rubbed the small of her back. "Such a long way yet to go and I don''t move as fast as I used to." "I''m a Fairy Godmother, perhaps I can help?" Clover blurted out, the words tumbling out before she could think. Her chest swelled with pride at the thought of helping such a rare magical being. "Well, goodness me! What luck we''ve met. I''ve a simple wish for you, dear girl - I wish to be young again!" Clover''s shoulders slumped. That''s not a simple wish. It doesn''t feel right meddling with age itself. Recalling Fairy Godmother Doherty''s words about fulfillment and happiness, she knew there was a better solution. She picked up a large pinecone. A quick wave of her wand transformed the pinecone into a jar of enchanted face cream. "This will make you feel - and look - decades younger," she said while handing over the jar. "Such a thoughtful solution to an old woman''s silly desire," the woman replied with a smile. "Willowbud always serves me tea when I make that wish." She smacked the nearest tree with her cane. "Let this one pass," she said and headed in the direction she''d come from. As the Ancient Woman shuffled away, Clover''s wand glowed in a way she''d never seen before. Warmth rushed through her veins, her blood fizzing electric. Ethereal wings formed from magic sprouted from her shoulder blades and lifted her off the ground. "Apparent, indeed!" she cried as she twirled in midair. She marveled at the sensation until the magical effect wore off, the fairy wings faded away, and she touched down. For the remainder of her journey, the forest was brighter, less menacing, and the tree branches didn''t catch on her clothing. Clover raced down the forest path, joy coursing through her. "If this is what it feels like to properly grant wishes, I can''t wait to show everyone!" Her feet barely brushed the ground, even on the steep mountain trail, as she dashed towards her home. * * * Clover entered Glenaleen right as the sun kissed the horizon, bathing the village in a warm orange glow. As she approached her home, she was dismayed to see a crowd of villagers milling about outside. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. A rustling in the bushes made Clover freeze, every muscle tensing. Had something followed her from the woods? She strained to peer into the shadows, her imagination conjuring up all manner of dark, sinister creatures. "Clover Quinn, I''ve been worried all day you ran away." Lily''s hushed voice reached out through the shadows. "Where''d you go?" "I did, sort of. I went to ask the fairy godmother of Bryn for help." "You went by yourself! Why didn''t you ask me to go with you?" "After our last conversation, I¡­" Lilly struggled to speak. "I''m sorry, Clover. I never should of said those things." She sniffed and wiped her nose. "I hope you found the answers you needed." "Fairy Godmother Doherty was very helpful." Clover pointed to the crowd. "What''s going on?" "I''ve been making up stories about your whereabouts. They figured out I was lying¡­ which is why they''re camped outside your house. Sorry." Before Clover could respond, her friend disappeared into the darkness, leaving her alone to face the expectant crowd. "There she is!" Mrs. O''Toole exclaimed, her bony finger aimed like a weapon, pointed at Clover. "It''s about time you got back! We''ve been waiting all day to get our wishes!" Clover blinked in astonishment as two dozen sets of expectant eyes turned to her. A chorus of murmured requests filled the air, each villager pressing closer, their voices overlapping in a desperate clamor to be first. She raised her hands in a futile attempt to calm them. "Now, now, please, one at a time!" she called over the din. "I want a fishing rod that catches the fish for me!" "Make my cottage twice as large!" Mrs. O''Toole pushed her way forward. "I''m tired of doing laundry. I wish for clothes that wash themselves." The crowd''s anger was palpable, but the old woman had been the first to say the magic words ¡ª I wish. Clover gazed at her entitled neighbor. Her first test at asserting herself. With an exaggerated smile, she joked, "I don''t think we want your wardrobe wandering the streets. How about I give you enchanted laundry powder that keeps clothes from getting stained?" Mrs. O''Toole grumbled, "I suppose that will do." The villagers surged forward, their hands reaching for Clover in desperation to have their desires fulfilled. In the ensuing chaos, her wand was torn from her grip. A sickening crack echoed through the air as it snapped in two, the pieces clattering to the ground. Clover''s heart broke in two with it. With trembling fingers, she retrieved the broken halves. She called on her internal nature magic to bind the wand together. But when she gave it an experimental wave, only feeble sparks emerged. She broke out in a cold sweat as anger at herself and the crowd washed over her. Her voice wavering, she forced a smile and said, "It''s been a long day and I''m too tired for more magic tonight." The villagers grumbled but dispersed, leaving Clover to retreat into her hut. She collapsed on her bed, reeling from the damage to her wand. * * * Clover attempted to eat dinner, but her appetite had vanished alongside her happiness. Doubts consumed her mind. She had failed again, in the worst way imaginable. Was her wand broken beyond repair? Had she lost her powers forever? The memory of wielding that power, of controlling the outcome of wishes, now filled her with a bitter regret. How could she have ever wanted to relinquish that role? Had fate itself conspired to strip her of her abilities? What was her role in the village if she couldn''t perform as a fairy godmother? Was the pact between her and the village forever broken? Clover''s face paled as the room spun. She gripped the edge of the table to steady herself. A wave of panic crashed over her, threatening to drag her under. What if the other villagers secretly resented her like Mr. Doyle? Had they raised her only to become a fairy godmother, and now deemed her worthless? Would they shun her? Banish her? Or worse? She shuddered at the possibilities swirling through her mind. Memories of her childhood, when she had felt like an outsider, came flooding back. If she were human, she could flee to another village and quietly make a new life. But as a fairy, where could she run? The thought of leaving her home, her friends, her very identity behind, filled her with dread. She closed her eyes, but sleep eluded her. Sometime later, a sharp knock roused her from her fretful slumber. Clover''s breath caught in her throat as she recognized the Ancient Woman from the woods. She''s come to take me away, just like in the stories. The Ancient Woman, appearing decades younger but anxious, squeezed past her. "I can''t stay long. The magic here is too weak." She tapped her cane on the wall of the tree house. "And not enough trees." The willow tree creaked in response with a woody groan. "After your act of kindness in the forest, I felt compelled to offer a warning." Clover''s hair stood on end, recalling her visions of angry mobs and banishment. "A warning? About what?" The Ancient Woman seated herself at the small dinner table. "I''ve lived so long that I''ve forgotten the name my kind had before we became the Ancient Ones. Been a friend to the Quinn fairies for centuries. I knew your mother from the time she was a child." She looked lost in the past as she smiled. "Always so intent on making others happy." "What happened to her? I was told she fell ill and died on the way to get medicine when I was an infant." The Ancient Woman grimaced. "Fell ill? Is that what they''re saying happened?" She cleared her throat. "Like all magical beings, fairies'' bodies are mostly made of magic. It''s this innate magic which is the source of your abilities. Your mother tried so hard to grant every foolish wish that she exhausted her reserve of magic faster than it could be replenished. She became so frail and hollow that one day she faded out of existence. Poof. Gone." Clover shuddered. "That''s¡­terrible." "Heed my advice young lady. You own your magic, not the villagers. Serve as their inspiration instead of a solution for every problem. Teach them those lessons early or risk suffering the same fate." Clover offered to let her stay for the night rather than risk the dangers of the wilderness at night, but the Ancient Woman declined and left. Clover returned to bed and stared at the ceiling while a plan formed in her mind. 9. The Magic Happens Clover stood outside her willow tree home, her fingers clenching the newly grown wand. Golden morning sunlight cascaded over the majestic mountains, bathing everything in a radiant glow. The McKay''s rooster crowed, stirring the Glenaleen to life. Villagers slowly emerged from their homes and shuffled towards her, bringing their unfulfilled wishes. As the villagers slowly gathered, murmurs rippling through the crowd, Clover summoned her inner strength, steeling her nerves. If she succeeded, they would forge a new future together. If not, a Diversion Spell wouldn''t be able to hide her from the angry mob she feared they might become. Clearing her throat, she took a step forward, her voice initially trembling as she addressed the gathered villagers. ''Good people of Glenaleen,'' she began, her words laced with both determination and a hint of vulnerability. "As a child, you welcomed me as one of your own." A few in the crowd nodded in agreement. "I want to apologize for the chaos of the past few days. I know my new role as your fairy godmother has been an adjustment for all of us. That changes, starting now." The villagers hushed and gave her their full attention. "It''s been years since there has been a fairy godmother here. I''m still learning what this means. I hope you''ll honor the obligations set forth in the ancient pact made between fairies and humans." She gazed into the eyes of the villagers, allowing her words to sink in. "In exchange for your protection and care, I will use my magic to grant wishes with fairness. But there are rules that must be followed. "Rule number one." Her voice hardened. "I will not grant any wish I believe will be used to harm or deceive or is otherwise immoral." Her gaze landed on her adoptive father, his burly frame towering over the crowd like a formidable oak tree. She locked eyes with him, her stare unwavering. "Nor will I be coerced or bullied into granting wishes if we are to maintain our trust and friendship." Vakur flushed under her scrutiny, shame creeping into his bearded face. An uneasy silence settled over the crowd as they absorbed her words. She was no longer the timid and shy ''fairy girl'' they had known, replaced by a fairy godmother radiating strength and determination. Vakur Doyle muscled his way forward. "Aye, she speaks the truth,'' he confessed, his voice gruff. ''Times have been hard. I''m ashamed to say I forced her to enchant my coin purse to double what I put into it out of desperation and greed." He held his large right hand over his head, revealing an extra thumb and two additional fingers. "This is the price I paid when I tried to take out a gold coin. I deserved this and it will remind me of the shameful things I said and did." A ripple of shock coursed through the crowd, sparking furtive glances and hushed whispers. Clover stood composed, her gaze steady, waiting for the commotion to settle. "What happened to Mr. Doyle was not intended, but it illustrates why your wishes should be worthwhile." She paused for her words to sink in. Stolen story; please report. "Someone I know deep in my heart who is worthy is my best friend, Lily." Clover gestured to Lily, "Will you share a wish with everyone?" Lily stammered, barely meeting Clover''s eyes. "I wish for my garden to fill up with delicious fruits and vegetables that will impress Declan O''Shea." Clover arched an eyebrow. "Your garden? Do you mean that patch of weeds and stones beside your house?" A few people chuckled as Lily''s cheeks reddened. "That''s an honest wish, Lily. One everyone hopes for when they plant their seeds in the Spring. Growing a garden until harvest takes work and time. Not magic. Which brings us to rule number two. "Fairy godmothers grant wishes based on their discretion about what the intent behind the wish is. Lily wants a garden she can be proud of, which can only happen by putting in the work so I will not wave it into existence." Clover turned to Lily, her voice gentle but firm as she gestured to the side of her hut. "Hand me my watering bucket, please." Clover took the bucket from Lily. With a graceful flick of her wrist, she waved her wand over the bucket in a swirling motion. A faint shimmer of magic danced across the surface, then vanished. "I''ve enchanted this bucket. It''s yours now. The water poured from the bucket will make your plants grow bigger and stronger than ever." She turned to the crowd. "As I replenish the magic we''ve lost over the years, everyone will experience benefits like this." As Clover handed the bucket to Lily, her wand glowed in dazzling brilliance. Large magic fairy wings erupted from her shoulder blades. They lifted her two feet off the ground, a soft glow emanated from her clothing. The crowd buzzed in amazement, enthralled by this dazzling display of magic. "See what happens when a wish is honest and granted faithfully?" She stretched out her hand toward Vakur Doyle and floated to him while rising to his height. "Now, to show I remain the kind, forgiving adopted daughter you know, give me your right hand." She waved her wand over his hand, returning it to normal. "Mr. Doyle, you taught me that a coin saved is as good as a coin earned." Then she tapped his coin purse. "I replaced the enchantment. Now your coin purse will refuse to open if it detects you are being cheated." He stood dumbfounded, inspecting his restored hand in disbelief. "I don''t deserve it after the monstrous things I said." He got down on one knee in front of the crowd. "You have my word, Fairy Godmother Quinn. I''ll not threaten you ever again." His voice rose so everyone could hear. "I also pledge that if anyone threatens you, they''ll have to deal with me." Murmurs of agreement passed through the villagers. Relief washed over Clover, a smile breaking across her face. "I accept your apology." She reached down to place her hand on his shoulder. "I am proud of you. It took courage to apologize like that, and in public. Now please stand up, you''re making me uncomfortable." Vakur nodded gratefully and stood. Clover then noticed Timmy, the small boy whose teddy bear she had failed to mend. The cloth bear hung from his hand by its ripped arm. "Did you come to have me fix your bear again?" He looked at the ground and whispered, "Yes." She gestured to the people around her. "Do any of you think I''m better at sewing than the tailor?" "No way. That Susan could sew sunbeams together," replied one of them. Clover smiled, then raised her voice again. "Then we agree, a fairy godmother is not the best solution for this boy''s wants. The people of Glenaleen pride ourselves on our self-reliance and cooperation. Do we want to lose what makes us our best selves by using magic on problems we can solve ourselves?" She ascended higher still. "I am proud to be your Fairy Godmother and promise to elevate us all." The villagers cheered and then dispersed to go rethink their wishes. Clover smiled and waved, looking ever the part of a fairy godmother. Inside, she harbored one more concern. I hope I figure out how to land before the wings fade away, but not until after I taunt the McKay''s rooster. Epilogue From that day on, Fairy Godmother Clover Quinn and the villagers of Glenaleen coexisted in harmony, sharing laughter and helping hands as needed. She no longer felt the burden of their constant demands. In its place grew a mutual understanding and respect. Clover embraced the wisdom of Fairy Godmother Doherty and the Ancient Woman. No longer ''the fairy girl'', she transformed into Glenaleen''s trusted counselor, guiding them to discover their own inner strength. The villagers treasured their wishes and took great care to only make thoughtful requests of their fairy godmother. At Lily and Declan''s wedding reception a year later, Clover stood arm-in-arm with her dearest friend, surrounded by Lily''s bountiful vegetable garden. For months, Lily watched others make wishes, but always preferred to do for herself rather than rely on magic. Clover gasped when Lily asked her for a second wish, that ''Clover find someone who made her as happy as Declan''. Specifically, someone who favored meat stews, as she needed a place to go where salad wouldn''t be on the menu. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. Two years later, when Lily gave birth to her first child, she named Clover the godmother. Clover wept with joy as she held the precious child, making a silent pledge to watch over him for all his days. Clover devotedly served as Glenaleen''s fairy godmother for many peaceful, prosperous years. She took pride in watching the village grow and prosper. Soon Lily''s wish came true. Clover met and married a fairy man raised in the hectic city of Dublin, looking for a peaceful life in the country. Then, one magical day, Clover''s willow tree home grew into a second bedroom. Into it, Clover placed the baby daughter to whom she would one day pass on the role of Glenaleen''s Fairy Godmother.