Matthew Pearce's mundane life as a desk jockey is upended when an old flame from his field agent days pays him an unexpected visit.

Story by Jess Yeoman

Narrated by Joe Morin

Foreword and Afterword by Joe Morin

Edited by Joe Morin

THE PROMPT

A fairy works for the Department of Mythical Creature Conservation and discovers unicorns are real.

THE STORY

1.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, eyes closed tight enough to shut out the stunned face in front of him, Pearce released an exasperated sigh. 

“Was it not clear the first million times? All new Hallow’s Eve funding requisitions MUST be filed under ‘Events’, not ‘Holidays’. And you’ve entirely mislabeled these forms from the Troll Bridge Real Estate firm.”

“I’m so, so sorry, sir,” the assistant stuttered, clearly hurt by the sting of his superior’s tone. 

Pearce looked up again from his desk at the young Fairy and, seeing visions of his own self standing there, felt his gaze begin to slightly soften. 

“Hey, we all gotta start somewhere, kid. But if you screw this up again, it’s gonna be both our necks on the line, and trust me when I say I won’t hesitate to throw you under the bus.” Pearce was still fuming, but tried to soften the blow with a small wink.

“Definitely, got it.” The assistant ducked out of the office quickly and without another word, for fear of further upsetting the clearly irate older Fairy.

Matthew Pearce had worked for the Department of Mythical Creature Conservation for nearly 125 years. Just long enough, in fact, to have moved through the ranks, from a nobody taking hot cocoa orders for the higher-ups all the way to Lead Detective of his branch. Gods, did he miss the freedom of being out in the world, the smell of dewdrops in the morning, the feel of the cool air on his wings… But now, despite his years of experience in the field, he was stuck here at this crappy desk, with the closest thing to freedom being the ever-changing landscape on the wallpaper of his magic-powered laptop.

It wasn’t the dream, but it paid his bills – with the rising cost of housing in the surrounding Toadstool Communities, he would take anything he could get. He spent most of his days convincing himself that moving from Detective to Human Resources wasn’t a demotion, and just a shift in positions, but it was still a painful truth to swallow… A torn wing was enough to bring you right back down to the bottom, he guessed. His work wasn’t all so bad, though; if the humans believed rumours of mythical creatures living on their turf, there was a higher chance of that land being protected and conserved, and then a better chance of those creatures’ survival. The Humans got to see the big bucks come in from their little tourism traps, and the Department was able to maintain a vast network of beings under their protection. Win-win, or as close to it as possible. 

Despite the success of the program, Pearce knew that this little gig wouldn’t last much longer; already the heads of the DMCC were bringing in fresh faces, updating methods and upgrading the department with the newest of Fairy technology, pushing out anything obsolete. And, soon enough, Pearce knew that he would become obsolete too. 

2. 

Heavy rain pounded Pearce’s leaf umbrella as he trekked across town, familiar shops and the gentle glow of neon lights being the only source of comfort in the dark streets. Another day of correction, editing and painfully dull interactions with other clerical Fairy workers had left him feeling numb, and the cold damp settling into his wings didn’t help that. 

As he jiggled his keys in the lock of his oak tree apartment, he noticed a smudge of crimson red on the doorframe, a shade barely noticeable against the dark wood but unmistakable to Pearce. A shiver went up his back as he opened the door cautiously, hoping to retain some semblance of calm so as not to give away awareness of his unexpected guest. Breathing shakily, his eyes adjusted to the soft light of his lamps, casting a warmth around his apartment and yet still unable to ease the slow dread he felt. 

“Been a while, Matthew,” a cool, low voice spoke into the room. Pearce’s head spun to find his beautiful intruder standing in the kitchen, slender arms leaned back on the counter and legs crossed in front of her. Her chin tilted slightly to reveal a gorgeous jawline and thin, long neck, and of course her signature red lips. A halo of blonde waves framed her petite Pixie face in a way that Pearce could admit, despite the fear tightening around his stomach like a fist, was truly stunning. A face that he had once loved, and one he thought he had lost. 

“Meredith?” he managed to get out. The last time he saw her must’ve been, what, 30 years ago? On that last case they worked together…

“Yes darling, c’est moi!” she said, grinning at her own little phrase and the look of shock on Pearce’s face. 

“Yeah, guess it has been a while,” he replied, hand rubbing the back of his neck. What could she possibly be doing here, after all this time? 

“Well, surely I deserve a better welcome than that,” Meredith teased, crossing her arms in front of her and playfully pouting. “I know things didn’t end off on the best terms-“

“You left the Department, you left me, without a single word. I didn’t know if you’d been taken, or killed, or if you just got tired of me and took the first ticket out. And I was left to think and overthink about all that for years, no, decades. So yeah, I guess not the best terms.”

Meredith’s grin began to fade, her gaze dropping and all flirtatiousness quickly leaving her demeanour. 

“Look, darling, I know it must’ve been so hard for you, but at the time it was what was best… or at least it seemed like it. It wasn’t easy for me either, changing my whole life like that, but after everything we went through with the Department, all the cases we worked, all the lives we saved and more importantly the ones we couldn’t… I don’t know, I couldn’t do it anymore.” 

Pearce sighed, reigning in his frustration and trying to remember more deeply the Pixie in front of him, his former partner, lover, and so much more. 

“You think I didn’t struggle too? Look where I’m at now, chained to a desk and dealing with buffoons every day.” 

“That’s my point, Matthew. The Department is no good, they didn’t take care of you after your accident, they barely even kept you around, in fact they likely only do keep you around so they don’t get their wrists slapped by the higher-ups for firing an employee after a workplace injury, especially one involving the Humans.” 

Pearce inhaled sharply, unsure of whether to be upset at the mention of his accident or offended on behalf of his employers. 

“You know the Department does good work, Meredith. We did good work in our field, and I do my best now with what I’ve got.”

Meredith rolled her eyes. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what? Besides the fact that you’ve broken into my apartment, told me my work is essentially worthless, and come up with some crappy excuses for breaking my heart?”

“Look, I know that nothing I say will change how you feel about… everything. But I came here because I need your help, and because you need to know the truth.”

“The truth?” Pearce asked, still reeling from the sudden reappearance of this dazzling individual.

“Yes, Detective Matthew Pearce of the DMCC,” Meredith mocked, her patience beginning to run thin. “I don’t have time to hold your hand through this so you better listen carefully. The Department has been around for ages, right? Generations of Fairies, Pixies, Dwarves, and other folk have relied on their protection.”

Pearce tried to hide his annoyance at being given a history lesson.

“But what about the folk we don’t know about?” Meredith continued. “What about the ones who’ve flown under the radar, living their own lives free from the Department’s close watch?”

“That’s absurd,” Pearce scoffed. “We’ve worked in the Department for years now, myself longer than you. I’ve personally handled hundreds of cases, helping probably millions of Mythical Creatures live better quality lives and stay safe from prying eyes.”

“See, that’s the thing,” Meredith chuckled. “What if the Department was the prying eyes?”

Pearce blinked, not sure how to digest what his former partner was suggesting. 

“You work in Human Resources now, right? Have you never wondered why some of the legends had to be maintained, even though you’ve never seen them yourself?”

“Well, sure,” Pearce said thoughtfully. “The Humans have always been creative in their storytelling, easier to promote rumours of everything and protect many than to narrow it down, all about keeping the balance.”

Meredith’s grin returned, her small sprightly face lighting up. 

“Now you’re getting it.”

“So you’re trying to tell me all the rumours are true?”

“Well, yeah,” Meredith shrugged. “Pretty much every last one.”

“But why would the Department try to convince us that those creatures are just bedtime stories for human children?”

“Because they don’t like rogues. They like having control. Anyone under their ‘protection’ can be monitored, every move watched carefully, every word measured and calculated.”

Pearce shook his head, his tired mind unable to wrap around all this wild new information. 

“There’s a whole world out there, Matthew, beyond what the Department is willing to admit. And you’re the only one I trust to help me save that world.”

3. 

The warehouse seemed smaller than Pearce remembered, but it had been years since he’d last stepped foot inside. He still wasn’t sure how Meredith had convinced him to tag along on whatever most recent whirlwind adventure she had planned, but it wasn’t the first time he’d been dragged into her schemes blindly but willingly… Though, he certainly hadn’t planned on there being a next time. Meredith led the way, stepping over strange puddles of green and the remains of who-knows-what, practically dancing through the warehouse with the light and nimble feet known of her kind. The sight of her grace and petite beauty contrasted against this desolate place struck Pearce with a humorous sense of juxtaposition, and even after all these years he couldn’t help but chuckle to himself and follow in her footsteps. Even if Pearce knew better, which he probably didn’t, he could not resist Meredith’s every request. Something about her had always just been so… magnetic.

Reaching a door covered in graffiti, muck and faded posters, the pair paused and looked at each other uncertainly but fondly, memories of years spent in these halls coming to light for them both. Pearce tore his gaze from the beautiful young Pixie, knowing if he stared any longer he would not be able to keep his resurfacing feelings at bay. He focused his attention on the door instead, regretting it instantly as flashes of pain rang through his torn wing; With a closer look he had seen that anti-Human propaganda posters littered the door, a cosmetic addition which must have been contributed by some squatters in the years that had passed. The Human involved in his accident had of course got away scot-free, but Pearce had had decades to replay that night… Meredith’s tears, the Human’s non-magic weapon, and the darkest night sky he’d ever seen. Of course the Department knew about the accident, everything had to be filed and documented and clarified, but there was no way they could truly understand the internal struggle he faced in his more recent position. Every Human he interacted with was different, but every interaction brought him closer to healing… At least, that’s how he tried to frame it for himself. 

Pearce shook these memories out of his mind, watching Meredith open the door into a vast space full of dust-covered gadgets, technology and files. 

“Just like the good old days,” she said, smiling at Pearce warmly. 

4. 

Hunched over a crowded desk, photos and papers cluttering the space, Meredith took a deep breath. 

“Ok, you’re going to have to follow along closely with me on this one, got it?”

“Yeah, got it,” Pearce said with some uncertainty. He didn’t love being told what to do, but this whole thing seemed important to her, so he’d keep his mouth shut for now. 

“The Department tracks mythical creature travel patterns, they claim that it’s in order to better understand what areas of the world need more protection. After stepping down from my role, I discovered so much of what the Department was hiding, including the real ways they’re using this data they’re collecting… They’re watching every part of our lives, targeting us and even revealing our locations to certain Human groups just to maintain some level of credibility to the stories.”

“But that’s sort of like what I’m doing…” Pearce said confusedly.

“But so much worse,” Meredith said, shaking her head and frowning. “Your role in the DMCC is so miniscule compared to the real stuff they’re doing out there, the corruption and power plays. You’re basically just a pretty face who’s just intelligent enough to make your branch look good.”

Pearce winced, but couldn’t deny that what she was saying certainly filled in the gaps he’d been questioning for years. 

“So here’s where it gets good. I’ve been tracking this group of unicorns over in the western portion of our region,” she continued, gesturing at a torn map with edges curling away from the table. “Seeing as they’re off the radar, I think they can give us some good insight into their lives without the influence of the Department, and maybe even aid us in finding other groups like them.”

“Wait, did you say unicorns?” Pearce asked.

“Yeah, unicorns, you’ve heard of them I’m sure,” Meredith said offhandedly, not looking up from her map. 

“Well, yeah, I just didn’t think-”

“I know, darling. There’s a lot for you to catch up on.”

Pearce stared, wondering what other major new information could possibly be dropped on him next. Shaking his head to dismiss his somewhat dazed mind, he ventured to ask, “So what do you need me for? Why’d you drag me into all of this?”

Meredith met his gaze and stuck out her bottom lip, feigning hurt at his words and showing off that crimson red even more. “Drag you? I thought you’d be excited for one more adventure, especially given your current lifestyle.”

Pearce cocked his head to the side questioningly.

“Well, a desk job and micro-magic dinners aren’t exactly an adventure, now, are they Matthew?”

Maybe she was right, maybe Pearce had let himself slip into retirement mode far too comfortably. Maybe one more case was exactly what he needed. 

With a new sense of purpose, Pearce honed in on the map. 

“Tell me everything.”

5.

The air was cool and clear at this height, though perhaps a little too high for Pearce’s liking. The roof of the DMCC building was only accessible by a seemingly endless spiral staircase, starting from the ground floor and continuing up countless levels. Thankfully with Pearce’s Department ID, he was able to sneak them both to the staircase quietly and without suspicion… The only real challenge was all those stairs. 

He looked over to see Meredith fidgeting with something on the other side of the roof. Their plan was fairly straightforward, hack into the Department’s GPS systems to manually redirect signals and track the unicorn herd Meredith had been closely following. From this height they could see the vast expanse of their little world and beyond, from the little Fairy villages all the way to the Human cities. As the sun began to paint the sky all shades of pinks, reds, and orange, Pearce had a small moment of peace and reflection. He hoped this whole thing would lead to some real good… He’d joined the Department back in the day with the dream of saving lives, or at least bettering them. With everything Meredith told him, the truth and all those affected by it, he felt this was a chance at taking some control back in his life, and maybe making a real difference in this world. Maybe not right away, a case like she’d planned might take months, years, but he knew he’d be there with her every step of the way. 

A loud bang followed by hissing came from the far side of the roof. Pearce felt his breathing become shallow and uneven, noticing a strange pastel pink fog creeping into his vision like some sort of cotton candy haze. Confused, he spun to find Meredith, who stood proudly by some piece of DMCC technology that seemed vaguely familiar, something that looked like a satellite dish or maybe a transmitter used to reach out to the Human world... What in Gods’ names was she doing?

6.

Meredith practically snorted, yelling over the increasing volume of the machines. “You really believed that stupid story about unicorns? I know you can be a bit of an airhead, Matthew, but this is too much.”

Pearce stood mouth agape, the gears of his mind slipping and spinning out of control. No, surely he wasn’t wrong, surely this was just another puzzle for him to solve, another set of clues to piece together into the truth. He felt himself waning, his consciousness grappling with whatever this noxious pink cloud was.

“What have you done, Meredith?”

Her eyes gleamed, the pastel pink cloud growing larger and more ominous with every second. 

“You know it’s interesting, in small doses Pixie Dust has an almost euphoric effect, causing anyone closeby to feel light, happy, loved. But in strong concentrations, like the clouds you’re seeing now?” Meredith couldn’t contain her giggles. “Well, that can cause some pretty nasty fits of mania, especially for the Humans who’ve never been exposed to any magic.”

“Pixie Dust? You’re joking…” Pearce choked out, his vision becoming foggier with each breath. He clutched his chest and inhaled sharply, his lungs trying and failing to filter out the toxic air. “That’s just a stereotype, some rumour built up over centuries of mythical folk trying to live together and failing.”

Meredith chuckled, giving her typically playful grin a much more sinister feel. “And what have we learned about rumours, Matthew?”

“I’m s-so lost,” Pearce managed to get out, his head pounding from the sickly sweet substance enveloping them. The sun had set and night was falling quickly. “Why would you do all of this?”

“I’ve told you already, darling. The Department is no good. At least I think I said that, right?” Meredith motioned around the empty rooftop, miming a request to the darkness for validation.

“But you said you wanted to help people, help the mythical creatures who weren’t under the Department’s watch.”

Meredith put her hands to her cheeks and beamed mischievously. “That was a good little story wasn’t it?”

All Pearce could do was stare. This couldn’t be the same Pixie he had once worked so closely with, could it? Had this so-called Pixie Dust got to her brain as well, over years of exposure?

“It’s pretty simple, actually. Sure, the Department offers protection for the mythical folk, blah blah blah,” Meredith said sarcastically. “But it also deals closely with the Human population… You deal closely with the Human population.

“And?” Pearce asked. “So what if I do?”

“So, as much as I hate the Department,” she grimaced, fists clenched, “I hate the Humans so much more. When I heard you were going to be promoted to head of Human Resources, I came out of the shadows. And I knew all it would take was one look at me for you to come along for the ride, to be putty in my hands… just like the good old days,” Meredith winked.

“Why the Humans?”

“Why?” Meredith boomed. “They’re Humans! They’re an invasive species! Look at them, look at what they’ve done to us, to our world. To YOU!”

Pearce took a deep breath. The last thing he wanted was to further upset the explosive Pixie in front of him. 

“That Human, that night…” he trailed off, a dull but all too familiar ache in his torn wing coming to the surface. “It may have truly been an accident, you know? I’ve had a hard time with it over the years… No, I’ve killed myself over it. But Meredith, it may have been an accident, he may not have even meant to shoot.”

“You’re right,” she shrugged and looked at her feet. “It may have been an accident.”

Pearce nodded slowly, hoping his words had eased her anger at least enough to diminish any immediate danger. 

“But it wasn’t, though, was it?” Meredith said, reaching his gaze once more. “Surely you can’t be so blind as to accept the story that I fed you that night, while you were barely conscious. I thought you were cleverer than that, thought you could put it all together yourself eventually. I’m almost disappointed I didn’t get found out sooner.”

A sour taste came into Pearce’s mouth, his stomach tightening and his pulse pounding in his ears. 

“Ugh, don’t look at me like that, darling,” Meredith said bitterly, her red lips forming a sneer of distaste. “I was just playing my hand as it was dealt to me. With the inside scoop I had about the Department’s corruption, I knew I had to get out and get out fast. And I knew I could never get out with you as my partner, the Department loved us together and you loved me.” Meredith blew Pearce a kiss tauntingly. “So, a little ‘accident’ to drop you out of the Detective program and back down the ladder? Well, it was almost too easy.”

Despite the now richly concentrated cloud of Pixie Dust surrounding them, Pearce’s mind became clear and silent, attempting to fit this new story into his memories of that night. 

“Meredith… Regardless of how you feel about the Department, about me, about us, you can’t do this to the Humans. They don’t even know about our world, really, except for what we let them. For us this is reality, this is our home and our lives and our families, to them we’re just bedtime stories. That’s why my work is so important, to bridge that gap, to-”

The door to the rooftop slammed open, a loud crack cutting through the tension and darkness, interrupting Pearce.

“Sir! What are you doing up here?” the young Fairy assistant shouted over the whirring machines.

The sudden sound startled Meredith, causing her to jump away from the transmitters and teeter on the edge of the rooftop. She struggled, her typically nimble feet and impeccable balance stunted by the intensity of the Pixie Dust. Finally catching herself, and with one more smirk crossing her crimson lips, she winked at Pearce.

“Until next time, darling.”

She slipped into the thick pink fog, and as the haze began to clear, machines gradually quieting, Pearce saw that she had disappeared without a trace.

Pearce felt waves of relief and confusion wash over him as he stared at the assistant. 

“I was working late and noticed your sign-in, thought it was weird for you to be here at this time…” the young Fairy said sheepishly.

“Boy, am I glad to see you… for once,” Pearce said in an attempt to offer some lightheartedness and perhaps comfort to the young lad.

And Pearce realized, the Pixie he’d once loved and lost was lost again, perhaps this time for good. And perhaps for the greater good.

END