hwango

Once, quite a long time ago but not really all that far away, all things considered, there lived a particularly unlikable faerie by the name of Gloom-that-Spoils-the-Dawn. Now, I know what you’re thinking – a name like that is surely a self-fulfilling prophecy. But in this case the name came after the temperament, since this particular faerie started out with a comparatively lovely name, but subsequently murdered the previous Gloom-that-Spoils-the-Dawn so as to claim his title, lands, powers, and servants.

Among these servants was a cat by the name of Timothy. Timothy, like so many animals you might meet in the lands of the fae, had not always been a cat. Faeries are forever turning people and things into other things or people for any number of reasons – spite, malice, whimsy, punishment, or, in the very rarest of cases, practicality.

Timothy had been a horse before the previous Gloom had found himself in need of a cat. At the time, Gloom's castle was infested with mice who had formerly been a troupe of wandering minstrels before they had the misfortune to play a song that Gloom disliked. Later, when Gloom found himself in need of a horse, he transformed a nearby sparrow into one. Faeries are not known for long-term planning or putting things back the way they found them.

The new Gloom-that-Spoils-the-Dawn was no different, and barely a week had she lived in the castle before half of the servants had undergone some radical change in shape and duties. Timothy, however, was still a cat.

“Mistress,” Timothy said to her one sunny afternoon, “are we not blessed with the most marvelous weather today? Would you not delight in a ride through the lands of your estate?”

Gloom, at it turned out, would not. Eventually, however, Timothy recovered from his burns, and bided his time until another opportunity presented itself.

“Mistress,” Timothy said to her one bleak and rainy afternoon, “are we not blessed with the most marvelous weather today? Would you not delight – er…would it not be satisfying to go out and survey all that is your domain?”

“What are you up to, cat?” Gloom asked suspiciously. “Are you hoping to lure me away from the castle so you can engage in some mischief?”

“Nothing of the kind!” Timothy said, clearly affronted. “Why, I would desire nothing less than to accompany you on the proposed journey in whatever useful capacity you might require.”

Gloom narrowed her eyes ominously.

“Out with it, cat. What is it you hope to gain by this scheming?”

Timothy hung his head in despair. “Oh, mistress, the truth of it is that I so do miss my original form. Prior to my service as your cat I was the most magnificent steed. I only thought that I might by my offer encourage you to undo the enchantments that have bound me in a shape that is not true to my nature.”

Now Gloom was as cruel and vile a faerie as you could possibly meet, and there was in her heart not one shred of sympathy for this poor creature before her. On the other hand, the idea of stripping away the work of another appealed to her, particularly if it was the work of her predecessor, whom she had so envied and despised. And like any fae, she was prone to moments of whimsy and taking action without fully thinking things through.

And so she shrugged and absently tore asunder the glamours that bound Timothy in his feline form. At once, his shape twisted and expanded, and he stood before her as a fine horse with a milky white coat. But then his shape flowed and shifted again as another enchantment unraveled, and Gloom found herself attended by a tiny dove. Again and again Timothy’s shape changed as all of the work wrought on him by the fae over the years washed away.

Timothy had not lied. It was true that he wanted more than anything to return to his original form, and true that he had been a horse prior to being turned into a cat. He had, however, left out a few other facts.

Gloom found all of this far more entertaining than she had anticipated, and so it came to pass that she happened to be wearing an amused smile when Timothy finally reached his original form and immediately snapped her up with one bite of his mighty jaws. He roared in triumph, shattering every piece of glass in the castle and sending birds and animals for miles around fleeing in terror. He smashed through the wall of the castle and launched himself into the air, his mighty wings carrying him high into the clouds.

Never again, he swore. If he ever again found himself in the presence of a faerie, he would reduce it to ash before it could so much as blink.