Chapter Text
“Eeeheeheehee…”
The sound of some very distinct laughter rolled through the lavish halls of the Commonwealth’s grand palace, which only meant one thing.
Dizzy was near.
Celariel had gotten quite skilled at picking it out, as it generally meant that… pranks were soon to follow. Normally the pranks were fairly harmless, such as a water bucket propped up over a doorway, thoughtfully affixed to the ceiling so that when it fell it wouldn’t hit anyone. Other times… well, she didn’t like to think about other times. One such prank had led to a rather… disastrous diplomatic meeting when the ambassador from the neighboring remnant’s pudding had exploded in their face.
The fact that Celariel may have laughed certainly didn’t help either.
They had tried to keep the avoreal out, of course, but somehow she just kept finding her way in. Well, her and her technically-inclined human friend Piper. The two had the various members of the Commonwealth doublechecking their covers, triple checking their beds, and constantly looking over their shoulders. And their nerves were beginning to wear thin.
“Eeeheeheehee…”
The noise was closer now. Remarkably close, in fact. Celariel stopped, looking around for anything that seemed off.
And there it was. A loose pink feather resting on the ground, just outside of a suspiciously slightly open closet.
Pretending to take an intense interest in a nearby painting depicting Althea taking a stand against the Witheri- the Tatters, she reminded herself- she glanced sideways at the closet, confirming that Dizzy was indeed there. She seemed to have rigged the door with… something full of glitter, judging by the small shiny pile on the ground.
“Ah, Celariel! There you are.”
She was shaken out of her art appreciation by the Narrator. Although the Shadow Stage had only recently been discovered, he had been quick to rise in the ranks and was now one of the highest-ranking members, thanks in part to his charming voice. As in literally charming. Cela had a marked dislike for the man(?), and even she found herself agreeing with him in his presence. As soon as she had left, of course, she began to regret the entire previous conversation, but what has been said cannot be easily taken back.
She turned to him. “Ah, Narrator, I see. You wanted to speak with me?”
The narrator smiled. It was not a happy one. “Do you know what I found in my oatmeal this morning?”
“…do you mean oats, or something of more no-”
“WORMS, CELARIEL!” he snapped. The closet shuddered slightly.
“That’s… unfortunate,” she said, choosing her words carefully. “I suppose it was Dizzy? No one else puts you in quite such a tizzy.”
“Would it really be anyone else?” he grumbled. “Well, that Artois girl, perhaps. But either way… You are the ruler of that forest, right? Keep her out of here. If I ever have to see that stupid grin again, it’s the downside for her AND Piper. Do you hear me?”
“I… yes. (…I guess…)” She mumbled the last part, avoiding his gaze. “…is there anything else you need? If not, I really simply must flee…”
He seemed to calm down a bit. “No, that will be-“ he stopped talking, suddenly noticing the feather. “…what is that.” There was a faint eep from the closet.
“I-I’m sure it’s nothing. Say! You should go,” Cela stammered, trying to shepherd the narrator away from the closet. “Isn’t it time for one of your sho-“
“This is one of Hers.” He had stooped down and was examining the feather. “she’s near.”
He turned towards the closet.
“Wai-“
He pulled the door open and was immediately met with a flurry of glitter, completely covering him until he was as shiny as Cela’s hair.
Dizzy was sitting in the closet, her face frozen in a terrified grin. “ehheehee.. hee..”
Although she’d never say it to his face, Cela was quite amused.
The narrator was… considerably less so.
--
Dizzy and Piper were soon brought to “justice”. The trial was uncharacteristically swift. With the Narrator himself acting as judge, prosecution, plaintiff, and jury, it was clear to Celariel that the whole thing was just a formality
Not that she got out of having to banish them.
She now stood uncertainly at her podium, the various members of the commonwealth seated around the semi-circular room. At the center of attention was the Narrator, a Stagehand Phowl sitting on his shoulder, another Stagehand known as Iris, Dizzy, and Piper. The two looked very small, a pained smile still on Dizzy’s face as she attempted to comfort Piper, who had sat on the ground curled up in an effort to avoid everyone’s gaze.
Behind them laid the Tatters, churning hungrily.
“And so,” the Narrator concealed a chuckle. A few audience members joined in. “Dizzy and Piper were declared guilty for the following crimes: Conspiracy against the Commonwealth. Breaking and entering. Reckless endangerment. And, of course, being tremendously annoying. They were exiled to the Downside, where their lives were short and excruciatingly painful. The End.”
”If anyone has any reason to give this story a different ending, speak up now.”
It was not an invitation. More like a trap. Dizzy let her confident guise drop long enough to shoot a pleading look at Celariel.
She looked away. The narrator chuckled. “What staunch supporters you two have. Very well. Celariel, send them off.”
She fidgeted uncomfortably in her seat.
“Celariel!”
Faced with no other real choice, she began. “…You have been brought here to atone for crimes committed against the throne-” The Narrator grabbed Dizzy and began to clip her wings. Her expression broke a bit, tears pooling at the bottom of her glasses as the gravity of the situation fully sank in. “-for your transgressions you will be sent to the downside as punishment.” The narrator’s shears glowed as they finished, the snipped edges of Dizzy’s feathers stained black with magic. They wouldn’t grow back any time soon. As the narrator released her, she and Piper exchanged a look.
Celariel began fidgeting with her hair as she continued. “Your arcade closed, your kith conscript, your wings feathers have been clipped.” She didn’t know it was possible for anyone to stroke a phowl affectionately and have it come off as menacing, and yet the narrator was doing it now. His maniac expression didn’t help matters.
“And with that, so we may adjourn, I declare you banished, never to retu-” Her voice caught in her throat.
As she was sitting there, fidgeting with her hair, her fingers had closed around a drab gray streak.
“There you have it!” The narrator announced. Celariel, thankful that all eyes were on him and that no one had apparently noticed her stuttering, hid the gray streak behind her and returned her gaze to the center. “Now then…” he turned towards Piper and Dizzy.
And suddenly landed facedown on the ground, his tied-together shoelaces clearly visible.
The stagehand on his shoulder was sent sailing ungracefully towards Dizzy, who leaped and caught him in midair as Piper grinned in the background. She grabbed her hand and they ran together towards the Tatters. “Thanks for nothing, Buttface Steve!” Dizzy crowed before they vanished.
There was about half a second of astonished silence before a concerned murmur spread throughout the crowd. As the narrator looked up, fumbling with his shoes and sputtering about how this was definitely not an issue and how his hold on his Stagehands was impenetrable, Celariel took the opportunity to make a quick exit.
--
That night, alone in her room, she confirmed her fears. Not only had a lock of her hair faded entirely, the rest of it didn’t seem that far behind, shining only faintly in the candlelight.
Life as a part of the commonwealth would be wonderful! everyone had said. Especially compared to your time in the Downside. We’ll even give you back your position as ruler of the Enchanted Forest!
She had been a fool to accept. It was clear that the Commonwealth was rotten to the core. The Narrator, particularly. Granted with the amount of power he’d accrued the two were becoming synonymous…
She couldn’t keep doing this.
Her duty was to her people.
And she certainly couldn’t serve them from this gilded prison. She could hardly remember the last time she had done any actual ruling.
…she needed to disappear. And suddenly, she knew just the place.
She’d survived there once before. She could do it again.
She stood up suddenly, scrabbling at some nearby paper and scrawling out a note before turning away, thinking for a moment, and disappearing into the hallway, returning with a bag shaped like a black-and-white striped creature that had been confiscated from Piper. ‘Seeba’, she thought it was called.
She began filling the bag with a few things that could come in handy. Perhaps she could atone for her failures yet…
The next morning, she was gone.
--
It was some time before anyone came in to check on her. When they did, all they found was a note in Celariel’s handwriting:
“I’m out, you louts.”