the lost castle

Hidden between the layers of a rainbow lies a majestic palace. It is a dark castle with arched ceilings and slippery tiles; magic paintings and a many twisting passageways all connected to the same great room. You might have seen it when you were very young. In the heart of the castle lives the golden-haired Lady Fairy, a duchess who was born out of the darkness and has never seen the light of day. She wonders about her castle eternally, whispering to the paintings as if they were real.

There was one painting in particular. It was a scene painted deep within an English forest, unspoilt of human touch and utterly preserved. It depicted a Queen wearing the finest gown she had ever laid sun-speckled eyes on. The material was crafted from rare spidersilk interwoven with springtime lilies and it sparkled like a thousand crimson-cut diamonds fresh from the mines. Her midnight wings were extended to their full length, and on her head rested a golden tiara with a single perfect sapphire, the best jewel of all. The Queen herself was not beautiful. She carried herself in a way that radiated confidence and poise.

But that was not all there was in the painting. Directly behind the Queen, barely visible for the trees obstructing its view, was a fortress. The Lady Fairy couldn't see much of it but she wished she could see more, for I think all castles are just begging to be explored, particularly the magic ones, and the Lady felt this desire acutely. The other, final aspect of the painting was the most befuddling. Around the Queen were the queerest creatures the Lady had ever seen, like dwarfs, but not quite. They had large eyes and looked like fairies but the poor souls were wingless, and instead of being unhappy (as are all wingless fairies) they were clearly laughing and having a frightfully good time with the Queen. Some were hanging upside down from trees and a few were playing instruments and all the rest were dancing in a circle about the Monarch with smiles.

The Lady Fairy was jealous of the Queen and all her splendor. She made a vow to herself that she would recreate an exact replica of what she had seen in the painting, only with herself as the beautiful Queen. She pledged her body and soul to the darkness of which she had sprung and her castle started to shift. It became a different castle altogether until finally it was the fortress deep within the English wood, with ivy crawling up its towers and heavy trees obstructing it from view. This is where the Lady dwelt in all her spidersilk finery and gossamer wings, sipping tea in pink-petaled tea cups and waiting for the queer not-fairies to come and gather round her. But they never came, you see, however many times she sacrificed her blood to the darkness and beat at the castle walls. They never came, because of obvious reasons.

Years passed and the once magnificent fortress fell into a state of disrepair and neglect. The once inviting foyer became buried in dust and cobwebs, the banquet hall (feast still ready and waiting for the not-fairies) became a lair for vampire bats and other uncomely beasts, and eventually all the clocks stopped working (for who was to wind them up?). And still the Lady Fairy waited in her own malevolence until she was no longer a fairy at all, but a disillusioned Hag, her beauty and youth wasted on a broken promise.

It was at this point our Lady turned matters into her own hands. Obsessed with the not-fairies yet unwilling to leave her fortress, she slowly but steadily became more powerful feeding off the creatures of the wood. Soon she became so powerful that she couldn't contain it all, and some of the magic spilled into the castle, and all sorts of odd things started happening. Like when other Hags visited and stayed in a certain chamber they disappeared into a wood on the other side of the world, and the rooms moved around so often one could never quite find his way to the exit. Perhaps worst of all is that the great fortress started expanding at an alarming rate, and the Lady Fairy lost track of who or what wandered in.

That is how Peter, an orphan with a foolish appetite for recklessness, and his friends got swallowed up by the castle without the Lady knowing it. Perhaps she overlooked them because they were a great deal older than the not-fairies in the painting (therefore, not not-fairies at all), or maybe she was so deeply withdrawn into her own consciousness that she simply didn't notice. It happened on a gloomy Sunday in August, and Peter's gang had been caught stealing from the grocer yet again, only this time the lieutenant was smarter and had set dogs on their heels. On a desperate attempt to save themselves, the boys had sprinted into the forest, laughing, until they were thoroughly and completely lost.

Such is history and happened many, many years ago. They remained in the castle and explored as much as they could before settling on the west-end, which generally was less capricious than the others. Peter remained their leader and while in the castle the boys grew not a day older. The Lady Fairy took little notice, for by this time many strange creatures had taken up residence in her fortress and these things were no different.

They lived in perfect harmony until that fateful day when the Lady Fairy grew so powerful as to summon a not-fairy for her amusement. The not-fairy's name was Wendy, and she is where we will pick up in the next chapter.