Page 15 of Sugar Plum Fae

Candace frowned at what she saw in the mists of time. “But not this year. Not for several more years, in fact.”

“And when this comes to pass will Sarah look back on our gift and her wish and curse herself for not being more specific that she should have asked for her entire family to be immune to the plague.”

“Will you give her that nightmare?”

Roderick shook his head. “No. Will you send her a pleasant dream when her husband dies in five years?”

“Yes,” Candace said. “I will show her happiness to ease her grief.”

“It’s false.”

“No, it’s not. She has hope now, and hope will get her through the dark days ahead.”

"Hope isn't always enough, is it?"

"Sometimes it's all we have. And sometimes it makes all the difference."

"Or sometimes it just prolongs the inevitable."

"Then focus on their moments of joy," Candace suggested, turning to look him in the eye. "Those are the moments that matter most."

He was silent for a long time. More and more people came and asked for help for others, but Candace didn’t have it in her to feel triumphant. Not when she was still haunted by Sarah’s future.

By the time the line trickled to the last supplicant, the sun hung low in the sky, casting elongated shadows across the wishing well. It was as if the light itself clung desperately to the day, unwilling to yield to the encroaching darkness.

“I’m so tired,” Candace said. She felt wan and shaky.

Roderick reached down to hold her hand. It steadied her.

A man named Stephen took a deep breath and faced the well, drinking the last sip the well had for the day. "Wishing well, I seek reconciliation with my family. I wish for forgiveness and unity."

The well responded with a mix of emotions, the water shimmering with hues of sadness and hope. Stephen visibly trembled.

“Good luck,” Candace said, the surge of energy she expended to grant the wish filling her with energy instead of depleting it.

"I’m still winning," Roderick said with a trace of his usual arrogance.

“See,” she crowed as Stephen walked back to town, a pep in his step that hadn’t been there before. “He has hope for a brighter tomorrow.”

"Again with the hope. Why don’t you realize that hope can be a dangerous thing? It can blind us to reality, keep us trapped in an endless cycle of disappointment.”

"Hope is what keeps people going when things look their darkest. That’s why dreams are so important."

"But darkness has its own appeal, doesn't it? After all, why else would you be so drawn to me?"

"Maybe I enjoy a challenge," she retorted. "Or perhaps I just can't resist your endless charm."

"Careful, Sugar Plum. You wouldn't want to give me any ideas about how easily you might fall under my spell."

If he only knew.

Chapter Five

Roderick

Roderick reclined on a throne of twisted shadows, rubbing his temples. The room around him was a swirling vortex of darkness, punctuated by shimmering orbs of pure nightmare energy. Even with Candace's power aiding him, the townspeople's expectations had sapped his magic to an extent unheard of in centuries. He felt drained to his core.

"Granting wishes," he muttered, watching shadows dance across the bleak stone walls of his nightmare realm, "should come with a health warning."