Canary
I fly with Nebula over the city. It always feels nice to stretch my wings, though it saddens me - I think of the world outside, the hills and grass and sky and all the colours it must entail… I deeply sigh and Nebula notices something is going on. She lands.
"What's wrong, Canary? Not much of a flier?"
"Did you know I've never seen an actual canary?" I land as well.
She chuckles. "I can show you one."
She starts moving her hands, her fingers intervening, knitting a tapestry of purple and blue light. I am always taken back when she uses her powers. I wish so deeply I could do that as well, but alas, I was born a Kobold. Death becomes ashes and those ashes don't hold pixie dust - a punishment from the Seelie Court. Everything is a punishment.
Punishment for the first Kobold who tried to trick the Seelies and brought fire to the fae kin.
Nobody cares about that story when they light fire in the winter and let it warm up their hands.
We just feel its heat when we work at the factory. We keep the city running. We keep ourselves rotting.
But there is no rot or sweat or anything in Nebula's magic - it's pure and reminiscent of night skies, or at least my dreams about them. She smiles as she holds a canary in her hand. It's purple and there are stars in it.
"This is a canary." She releases it and it lands on my shoulder.
I smile. "Canary that dies in the mines."
Her face saddens.
"I'm sorry… I didn't mean to bring you down," I immediately say. Please, don't go.
"No, it's fine. I know how you must feel. I'd die as well if I was stuck here." She knocks a pebble with her foot. "But we all have our place."
"Well, it's easy to say that from a sky high tower." I sit next to her.
She looks at me a bit offended. "The will of the Court is the will of the Court. The Seelie know what they're doing."
They are punishing us, I want to say, Nebula, it's unfair.
I don't say it.
I just nod.
"All glory to the Court," I mumble.
She smiles and nods.
"All glory to the Court."
***
As I lie down for sleep, I look at the ceiling. It's moldy. I know it's an issue - my mother has trouble breathing. My brother as well. He's always saying how easier he has it - and I understand. He feels guilty for not being able to help in the mines. But his artistic talent was recognized from the young age. There are other reasons why he isn't allowed in the mines, though.
I lie on the bottom bunk bed, frowning as I stare at the upper one. He isn't there, he is still in the kitchen, working. Doesn't he see he is ruining his health as well?
I know he just wants to help us but… some limits have to exist!
I throw the blanket off myself and head to the kitchen to give him an earful. Seriously, why do I have to act like the older brother? He is the one who's older!
"Brother-," I open the door, my voice enraged.
I find him staring at the box he's working on, shaking. Oh no.
I run up to him. "Pavel! Are you fine?!" I immediately grab his wrist. "Are you having another episode?"
He doesn't say anything, he just shakes as tears stream down his face. I gentle my grip on his hand and slowly help him up to his feet. "Come on…" I say, so gently, as if speaking to a child. He is still shaking and soundlessly crying. "Come on, let's go get some sleep."
"What about them?" he whispers as he points to the corner. There is nothing there.
He sometimes sees things that aren't there.
"There is nothing there…"
"There is. Multiple of them."
I sigh. Usually there is no way to reason with him when he is like this. I know it isn't his fault but…
"Well, they haven't hurt you so far. Why would they now?" I smile.
"Maybe they- they make me hurt myself."
His voice is shivering. His entire body is trembling. I comfortingly hold his hand.
"They won't! There is nothing there!" I tug him gently.
I have no idea what I'm supposed to do here. I just know that I care - I care so much about him. He is what I have left. Sierra is much better at handling these situations.
I hear feet shuffling and look behind myself. It's Sierra.
We apparently all look the same, just different heights. Like our faces were copy-pasted on different bodies. She is the shortest, though not a pixie. Her brown curls reach her shoulders, her eyes are as green as ours. A crown of horns decorates her head, just like ours.
"You are doing it wrong!" she chides me and runs up to Pavel to hold his hand. She smiles.
"Which beings are there?" she softly asks.
"Muun, Zabby, and Togry," Pavel says in a shaky voice.
"Oh! And where is Twi?"
"Stop humoring him!" I cross my arms. "He needs to grow up!"
There are more sobs from my older brother. Sierra literally shoots me with a look.
"You aren't helping, Canary. Go to bed."
"You can't do this forever."
"Yes I can. Go to bed."
Suddenly I feel like she is the older sister, not younger. I sigh and roll my eyes and head for the bed.
Few minutes later, I hear them laughing.
Why is she so good at it? I want to be too, I care, but… what point is there in humouring him? He… he isn't a child! It's time to stop having imaginary friends or enemies, and live in the real world! World of iron and gold and daily quotas!
It must be stress. There is no other explanation. If only he would take a break sometimes.
Funny how I never listen to my own advice.