Sacrifice for a Wish

Chapter 23

"Of course," I turned to leave and then thought of the knot of dread that weighed my stomach down. "Actually, there was one other thing."

"Yes?"

"Does the Queen seem like herself? I mean I didn't know her before this happened, but you did. Is she the same as before? Also did she tell you what happened to her with the Jabberwocky?" I spoke so fast, just hoping to get all of it out before I lost my nerve.

"Princess Wren, I know you are worried. Let me assure you, she's fine but still recovering. There is nothing to worry about. She doesn't remember what happened to her after she left the mirror, but I think that's because of the spell. She just needs more time to rest and recover."

I nodded. I knew if I pressed it, that I would be stepping on toes. This wasn't my home, even if my family was from here. I didn't grow up here. I was the weird one, the autistic one, the sensitive one. If I kept pushing, these people would not stick around.

I walked down the hallway and followed the path I took with Lark the first morning I stayed at Wonderland Castle out into the apple orchards. I followed the path to the apple trees, enjoying the slight chill to the air, it was colder than Weverland. I found Arthur's tree and sat down below it. I wrapped my arms around me, to try and stay warm.

I reached out with my magic to touch the roots and was met with memories of other twins, some young some old. They had all played, slept, talked, cried, and loved under this tree. The tree itself had absorbed the memories of so many from Morgana's line, tears seeped from the corner of my eyes and ran down my face. They dripped onto the roots and added to the tree's memories.

A small purple flash hovered around me. I felt a tiny wet drop touch my cheek and a flash blinded me. I stuck my hands in front of my eyes to protect them. After I got my vision back, I lowered my hands and kneeling before me was a human sized fairy.

"You're the Pixie, right? Thistle?" I asked the man with purple hair, pointed ears and beautiful wings.

"Thistle," he answered and sat down in front of me.

"Why you have tears?" Thistle picked up an apple, rubbed it on his pants and handed it to me.

I took a bite, the crisp tart juice of the apple burst on my tongue. I had never had an apple so sweet before. It was almost like there was caramel inside of it.

"Mmm, that's good, thank you," I smiled shyly and took another bite.

"Apple magic," he smirked.

"It's not going to poison me, is it?" I looked at it, hoping to see the poison that was inside the apple, but it just looked like a normal apple.

"Apple sweet, apple good. Why you have tears?" Thistle repeated.

"You wouldn't understand," I sighed. I felt so alone, so different. I didn't want to be different.

"Thistle smart, Thistle listen," the man crossed his arms in front of him in a snit.

"I didn't mean you were dumb. I just don't think you will understand, you aren't like me."

"Thistle, Thistle, no other," he stated matter of factly. "Tell Thistle why you have tears."

"I've always been different; in my world they call it autism. Here, in Avalon, they call it being a sensitive. People don't like different. Sometimes I get stuck on things, or they bother me, like the tag on clothes or the smell of perfume. Other times I get a feeling about a person. People don't like it when I say what I feel."

"Thistle different. Thistle Pixie, Thistle Sprite. Pixie no like Thistle, Sprite no like Thistle. Thistle chosen guard Arthur tree. Pixie no chosen, Sprite no chosen, Thistle chosen. Thistle best, Thistle different."