Clipped Wings

Within the inky darkness of a black egg there lies a radiant cage held up by three golden chains, and inside that cage there is a fairy. Small and sacred, and whose two pairs of viridescent wings have been clipped, her crimson blood desecrating the shining sanctity of the prison that binds her to this black egg.

It is that time again. From the top the black egg hatches, letting a myriad of colors shine into the once pitch black chamber, straining the eyes of the poor fairy and putting her under the pressure of a power beyond her comprehension.

Three pale hands unfold from the top of the now shining egg, and together they hold onto the three golden chains, holding them in place.

And then they started shaking the chains, which shakes the cage that holds the fairy within.

The fairy crashed into bar after bar after bar, over and over again. She feels the bruises beneath dainty and torn clothes worsen after every impact, and with each hit her mind whispers: ‘My fault, my fault…’

And when the shaking stops after an hour, the hands surround the cage and from their open palms come holy beings, whose divine nature cannot be distinguished, and whose light blends with each other.

They whisper horrid things to the fairy, they speak of her unholy nature and of the sins that stain her soul. They remind her why she is here, why it is what she deserves.

‘No more!’ she wants to cry, but the fairy stays silent, taking the heinous words, for it is what she deserves.

Soon, after three hours and thirty minutes of endless tormentous reminders and painful lectures of her sins, the ascended beings retract back into the palms of their creator, and soon they too leave the black egg, taking the holy light with them.

The top of the egg closes shut, leaving the bleeding fairy isolated for another day.

And soon, it will start all over again.

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Something different has happened today.

When the Moment of Torment has arrived, no light bleeds from the sky, but rather, a single white beam of soft light focuses on the fairy, and suddenly, she feels replenished. But her wounds still ache.

She stands up from the red and yellow floor of her prison and she begins walking towards the bars, with the beam of light following her every step.

She peers into the darkness of the egg, and the darkness peers back, opening a sinister eye of bloodshot red.

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She takes a step back, but the light seems to be pushing her, leading her into the inky blackness, but she cannot push against the cage, its bars too tight for her to squeeze through.

But then, before her eyes the light shines onto the bars of the cage, warping them into a wooden door.

Carefully, cautiously, the flightless fairy reaches for the door’s bronze knob and twists it open, and from the other side of the door there is a room of wood, warm and cozy.

Excitedly, the fairy rushes for the door, but she suddenly gets a chill down her spine as she takes a step just before the warmth of wood reaches her bare feet.

“Punishment” something whispers in her ear.

And she takes a step back.

And another step backwards, back to what she deserves.

But then, from the other side of the wooden door comes… another fairy, whose wings are full of life and whose face is soft and unblemished.

‘Come to me,’ he mouths, to which the flightless fairy shakes her head.

“Why not?” he asks.

The flightless fairy replies softly, weakley, “I deserve this.”

“Says who?” the fairy from the other side asks.

The flightless fairy points upwards to where her tormentors once were.

“But they are gone now, why stay?”

“Because I say so.” the clipped fairy responds.

“Are your sins so bad that this torment is warranted?” the warm fairy asks sadly.

The clipped fairy nods, “I am a bad fairy who failed to ascend with her peers, whose failures are mocked throughout the world. I told myself that I’ll never make it, and this cage proves me right.”

“Is being right more important than being happy?”

“No, being punished is more important than being happy,” the clipped fairy weakly states.

“I don’t think you deserve this,” says the warm fairy.

“Prove that I don’t,” the clipped fairy challenges.

And with that, the warm fairy accepts her challenge by stepping out of the warmth of his wooden cottage and into the cold embrace of the black egg.

With every step he takes, it hurts his warm, bare feet.

With every step he takes, he feels the pressure mounting on his back more and more.

With every step he takes, he feels tears well up at the corner of his eyes.

‘Is this how this fairy feels?’ he wonders.

Finally, he comes face to face with the clipped fairy, who dully asks, “What is it? What are you doing here?”

And then… he hugs her.

“You are enough,” he says.

“But my wings are clipped,” she replies confusedly.

“You need not harm yourself any longer.”

“You are enough,” he repeats.

“I don’t understand,” the clipped fairy replies.

“You are enough.”

The clipped fairy stands still in the embrace.

“You are enough.”

The clipped fairy raises her arms and slowly begins to put her hands on the back of her embracer.

“You are enough.”

Her face scrunches up.

“You–”

She cries.

Gently, she feels the warm pats of the warm fairy’s hand on her back.

“There there… there there…”

Together, they stand still in this golden prison. A prison meant for the eyes of many has suddenly become a prison for the eyes of two.

They will leave this prison, but not too soon, for the girl could not bare the warmth too much.

But the warm fairy is patient, for soon she will grow clipped wings and soar higher than any other.