The Fifth Element

Festival 

AN;Sorry this came out so late. I had originally written in months ago. Felt okay about it. And went to post it, only to realized I hate it so I had to start it over. Thanks so much for your patience!
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Why was my  nose was always so itchy when I knew I couldn't scratch it? I spared a glance at Henry, who had on a beautifully painted  dragon's mask, while Fern held tightly onto the hand that did not hold a cane. Fern, the most beautiful little girl in the world and who did not have the face of a fugitive , wore no itchy mask. I, who did have the face of a fugitive, wore a stupid itchy fire-fox mask.

Fern 's bright blue eyes, the same color as her dad's, danced excitedly around the Full Moon festival that the local villagers had set up. The village was located down the mountain from the cottage that Emily and I's family shared. We tried to interact with the villagers as little as possible, but neither I nor Henry could ignore Fern's big pleading eyes when she asked us if she could go to the festival this year:

All around us, orbs of colorful light bobbed and danced around us, while the smell of fairy-silk and grilled sea-serpent filled the air.

Fern tugged Henry over to a stall where fairies that shimmered with blue, gold, and silver light flung themselves frantically around their glass lantern prisons. The stall was manned by a man around Henry and I's age, with beady blue eyes and a sly smile.

"Daddy," Fern said softly. "I want to let them out. They are all crying, look at them!"

Sure enough, my eyes landed on a pink shimmering fairy who had her small, angular face pressed up against one of the glass panels. Two streams of glitter stained her face.

"I feel you man, being in imprison is rough," I mumbled under my breath and the fairy looked up at me, almost like she had heard me.

Henry knelt down so he was at Fern's level and whispered into her ear. He reached into his pocket and produced a silver coin, which he slipped into Fern's outstretched palm.

Fern nodded  at whatever had been said to her and zig zigged through the crowd, over to one of the stalls that sold grilled sea serpent.

Henry slowly stood up, using his cane to support a majority of his weight.

"What are you up to?" I asked and lifted the mask ever so slightly to itch my nose, only for Henry to firmly grab it and yank it back down.

"Mask down," he said firmly.

"My nose is literally so itchy right now, it feels like a gremlin is under here tickling it. I'm sure I can do it really quickly without anyone noticing."

"Just hold on a second," Henry replied in a voice barely above an octave. "We will be leaving shortly."

My eyes flew to the sea serpent stall, where a balding man was removing a wooden skewer impaling a few juicy sea serpent bits, from the grill.
I watched while Fern grabbed a fist full of wooden skewers, from a bucket right behind him, while his eyes were focused elsewhere.

Before I could question what I just witnessed, Henry was already guiding me towards the vendor  selling the fairies.

"How much for one of the fairies?" Henry asked.

The boy sniffed loudly and spat on the ground. "Two gold pieces for one or two for three."

"That's a little expensive for a fairy, don't you think?" Henry asked. "I thought two silver pieces could buy ones."

"That's the price outsiders pay. Haven't see the likes of you...ouch!" the man cried and his body went ridged with pain, while he reached his hand behind him and produced one of the wooden skewers. The man stared down at it, when abruptly, another skewer sprouted from his cheek.

Henry leaned towards me.
"Now it's time to go!" he said and Fern materialized beside me.

I grabbed her hand and turned away from the fairy cart, just as the fairy seller erupted into screams of pain. I looked down at Fern, who was grinning ear to ear. My eyes darted to  Henry who I could tell was grinning under his mask.

"Just what are you teaching my daughter?" I said angrily, while I gave Fern the look that she was about to be in big trouble as soon as we got home. Her smile did not waver from her face despite this.

"How to help the little guy stand up for themselves," he replied, as the sounds of people yelling in pain, presumably from being stabbed with wooden stewees, followed us into the night.