• 𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒙𝒕𝒐 - incarnation ii

26 7 16
                                    

Ahra didn't even know fairies could get back pain.

To be fair, she moved around a lot more than any of her colorful...friends, as she would say, though she doubted they would ever admit they knew her in the presence of someone else.

A bit sad, but that's a fragile topic no one ever mentioned, though she'd always been itching to bring it up about six dozen times over the last three months.

Maybe that's too much.

She twisted her little fingers in ways that didn't seem humanely possible — likely because she wasn't...well, a human — to keep herself distracted from the creeping fact that she'd been sitting beside the boy for almost two hours and counting, but she buried the rising suspicions and sinking of her spirits by practically screaming Ring Around the Rosie telepathically to herself.

A bit chaotic, her mind was.

She looked that way too, apparently, with a frizz of dark, grayish green hair that was slowly growing out to reveal their originally orangey red color at the roots. She hated that.

Green and orange clash.

But that seemed to be the only thing she knew about fashion, evident from her tight, weirdly fitting leggings that resembled tinsel, and her sweater made from some sort of coarse magenta material that looked absolutely revolting against her softly tinted coral wings.

Ahra didn't seem to notice how absolutely horrendous everything she was wearing was, since she had apparently decided those where her best articles of clothing.

Every other fairy had deeply pitied her incarnation.

Her wings were the only thing they even remotely liked.

Ahra was known to be...particularly annoying, to put it mildly.

Pity. Pity. Pity.

"Calixto Chronis..." she muttered, fiddling with a loose thread (which actually looks a lot more like a hair than a thread, according to Kael) on her brutally bright sweater as if it would help make her look less ridiculous.

Ahra was ready for many, many things in that moment, but what she was not ready for was a response.

A response in the form of a scream, sure, but a response nonetheless.

Calixto jumped up, scrambling to his feet as fast as possible, running to the nearest tree and pressing his back against it, scanning the ground frantically. Ahra just sat there, her eyes wide, her mouth tilting into a small smile, trying her hardest to not laugh.

Calixto had been awake for four minutes at this point, contemplating what to do next while laying completely still in case someone, or something, in this case, was going to murder him the second he showed a sign that he was conscious.

Not far off, if you considered the factor that was the tree he was backed against beginning to attempt to swallow his arm whole.

"Don't scream, it hurts my ears," Ahra said cooly, quickly recovering from her start. Her voice did not at all match the bright smile and curved, sappy eyes she was sporting. "If you're scared, just grab your robe and squeeze. It helps, I've learned."

Withdrawing his hand away from the tree as fast as he possibly could before permanent harm could be caused, Calixto cleared his throat and blurted, "Who's scared? I'm not scared."

It would've sounded believable if his voice hadn't cracked at the end.

He cringed.

Maybe not.

Ahra looked remarkably unimpressed, as anyone who had known her for a long time might be able to tell you, but Calixto wasn't one of those people. She still looked as sappy as ever, with no indication of a change in her mood.

But it was there. Barely, but it was.

She stood up, brushing herself off as she hovered up, making her way to Calixto, who ultimately decided not to even bother trying to convince her he wasn't scared as his voice cracked and waved with every word he said, "No, don't come closer. Please. What even are you?"

Ahra paused, as did Calixto, as they just stared at each other.

Calixto was silently worrying that Ahra was some sort of clever booby trap, and that he wasn't at all as safe as she indicated (which she didn't, indicate that he was at all safe, that is). His mind was spinning relentlessly, who would want to kidnap him? what did they want with him?

Blatantly ignoring the real, important questions was Calixto's specialty.

Ahra was really just wondering if he thought she was too impolite to be in his presence.

So she extended her cloudily semi-transparent hand and squeaked out in an attempt, a desperately failed one, to sound cute, "I'm Ahra, you must be Calixto, right?"

No response.

"Are you going to ignore me?"

He didn't even remove his hands from where they were covering his eyes. "What are you?"

"Oooh, good question." Ahra giggled, deciding to ignore his earlier request for her to not go closer. She circling his head, her wings buzzing ticklishly around his ears as she drawled dramatically, "I, my dear, am a fairy."

"B-But those are only in myths —"

Ahra was having none of it anymore, kicking her little foot into his hands as hard as she could, making Calixto yelp in pain and finally look up at her triumphant form. "What else am I" — she gestured to her cloudy, semi-transparent body that was the size of his hand — "supposed to be if not a fairy? A troll?"

He blinked, then opened his mouth as if to respond, making Ahra snap once more and strike his face with a tiny hand.

She shouted in a voice that was more frightening than thought possible for the tiny creature, "Welcome to the Coliseum, you biological mutation!"

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I had to end it like this. I had to _φ(_

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