Good Versus Evil

Hidden in the mountain forest just north of Innsbruck, two training camps rested. In the higher one, the air was fresh and light around the glittery snow decorated mountains and the sky shimmered with blue and silver.

Twinkling laughter could be heard from the newbie fairies in their camp as they went about their training exercises which taught them how to bring all things good and wonderful to the people in their land.

Soft curly haired little cuties were taught spells that brought about joy where there was none, diminishing pain and misery by granting people’s wishes and dreams, and banishing all evil.

In the lower camp the air was damp and bitingly cold. The heavy canopy of fir trees loomed above the huts and kept everything in permanent shade, stifling any sound from above, and making it deathly quiet.

Melting snow dripped from the leaves like tiny ice daggers onto the disgruntled trainee evil witches below. As soon as they were born, these little girls were dispatched to the camp before any chance of feeling love or appreciation of comfort or joy could tarnish them.

The spells that they were taught in dank and chilly clearings were bitter with evil: how to cause pain, how to fill hearts with hatred and revenge, and how to cause sorrow through foul wickedness.

One day, a dreadful storm approached from the east. The lookout fairy atop the mountain – who could see for miles over the glorious alps – spotted a fierce-looking tornado heading their way. She sounded the alarm, a long howl on the conch shell hanging from her belt. 

All of her fellow fairies immediately took cover. The evil witches below in the dank forest heard nothing, so, other than sheltering from the rain, they remained exposed to the fierce elements and waited for the storm to pass. They huddled together and cursed angrily about the revenge they would unleash on the world after it was all over. 

A sudden gust of wind leveled most of the trees almost horizontal to the ground and Sylvia, a particularly cross little witch, felt herself scooped up and propelled into a gap between the trees. Her little pointy hat, now darting around the sky, was spotted by Talitha, the lookout fairy who had not taken shelter in time, and immediately she, too, was whisked into the air.

The two of them were buffeted and beaten by the tornado for what seemed like an eternity. Then, almost as suddenly as it had begun, the wind dropped and the two little girls were dropped unceremoniously back on land.                                        

Talitha shivered violently as she lay on a freezing cold wet bed of moss on the forest floor. Through chattering teeth she asked “Where am I?” to the ugly circle of raven haired and pointy-nosed faces glaring down at her.

“Come to join us, have you? You’ll be sorry!” a sour sour skinned little witch cackled and gave her a kick in the ribs.

Unused to such hostility, Talitha curled up and began crying.

“Pathetic!” someone shouted.

The witches filed away and went back to their duties, leaving the good little fairy alone to fend for herself. She tried her best. Thinking the best option was to blend in and be inconspicuous until she found a way home, she discarded her shimmering gown and ripped off her wings which were now hanging limp and useless

 Her little glass slippers had fallen off in the storm so her feet were frozen and filthy. Tucked down her vest was her broken magic wand but, luckily, it still had enough power for her to create an ugly witch uniform for herself which consisted of an itchy black tunic, woolly green tights, and uncomfortable lace-up boots.

As she wandered through the camp, the only food on offer was raw insects that scratched her throat on the way down, or slimy frogs. Black ravens constantly dive-bombed her and pulled out chunks of her soft yellow hair until her scalp was bald and raw. As she ducked and screamed she could hear little witches hiding behind the trees chanting spells about fire and torture. 

Suddenly, the earth began to move beneath her boots. Horrified, she looked down to see waxy skeletal hands breaking through the soil, trying to grab her ankles with their long bony fingers. 

“Aaaaargh,” she screamed as long stringy branches began to reach out from the trees and start to wrap slimy tendrils about her wrists. They were all around her. It wasn’t long before the terror affected her innocent mind and she ran, panicking and arms flailing, further into the black woods. 

Finally, she stumbled and fell into a ravine full of rocks shaped like teeth, and surrendered to the sweet relief of oblivion.

Meanwhile, Sylvia, the trainee witch, found herself dropped into the fairy camp in the mountains. Horrified by the string of curses coming from a dip in the snow, all the good, little trainee fairies scrambled to pull her out and wrap her in dainty gossamer shawls to warm her up.

Confused by such kindness Sylvia looked around at eight sweet little faces with pink cheeks and curly hair, all smiling in welcome. They carried her back to camp and, stripping her of her jagged black tunic, gently lowered her into a warm bath of bubbles surrounded by healing candles.

The kind little fairies dabbed her scratches and bruises with a soft, natural sponge, and washed her hair with a silky magnolia shampoo.

Still feeling cross at the cruel way she had landed, Sylvia scowled at her saviours, wondering if it was all a cruel joke or a trial to test her resolve at remaining evil at heart. 

“Don’t worry! Rest here till you feel better. Then we can find you a way home,” said an older fairy as she gently combed through the wet hair. Dressing in an offered gown of lemon yellow silk and pearls, she raised her face to the sun and let the radiating warmth seep into her aching muscles, which up until now had been permanently tense. A sigh of deep contentment escaped her lips.

Supper that night was food of such glorious flavours that Sylvia never knew existed, and, to top it all, a bowl of sweet strawberries and cream was handed to everyone. They sat in a large circle dotted with lanterns for warmth as the evening advanced. They sang songs about love and hope while accompanied by a harpist.

Couples cuddled and, one by one, the good fairies approached Sylvia to reassure her and tell stories to make her laugh. That night, she slept under a quilt of feathers beneath the moonlight where she was able to lay in the morning and watch the sunrise.

She was offered friendly counselling to cope with her trauma and then took part in a meeting which was held to discuss the best way to transport her back to her family of evil witches in the forest.

Feeling like a princess in her floaty gown and soft hair and the unfamiliar sense of love and kindness that had surrounded her since the storm, Sylvia began to dread her return to the witches’ training camp. The gratitude she felt for the fairies far excelled any feelings she had left of wickedness.

She knew that once she had graduated as a witch her life would be irreversible, and she would be destined to a life of hate and evil deeds forever. She would have no friends or lovers, no warmth or laughter, just the terrible guilt of causing pain and suffering.

Unbeknown to her, her frozen heart was already thawing and the trainee evil witch she had been, was becoming evil no more. Sylvia realised that she wanted to help others as she herself had been helped. She wanted to love and give pleasure, to sing and play the harp, not turn people to stone or cause plagues of killer ants.                                                         

The fairy council approved Sylvia’s application to recruit and earn herself a pair of wings and magic wand. Now, with no brittle broomstick to chaff her thighs, she’d be able to fly daintily from one mission to another with ease. She would be able to grant wishes to poor and floundering souls and, with a waft of her wand, disperse any ill deed or danger.

In fact, she vowed to be the best good fairy there ever was. She would introduce a yearly festival to commemorate the good fairy that had so sadly been lost; no one should forget the part she had played in bringing the end to all things evil. Then she planned to return once more to the witches’ training camp and teach them that it is a million times more fun being good than it is evil.

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