Besides a successful logging industry—and a handful of royal scandals—the Western Kingdom was best known for the iconic Western Dam in the capital city of Fort Longsworth. The landmark was over a thousand feet tall and made from over five million stone blocks, and it protected Fort Longsworth from being flooded by the Great Western Lake.

The dam was two centuries old and had taken seventy years to build, and when the construction was finally finished in the summer of 452, a national holiday was created to celebrate the historic achievement.

Dam Day was beloved by all the citizens in the Western Kingdom and a highlight of their year. People were given the day off from work, children were given the day off from school, and they all gathered together to play games, eat food, and raise a glass to the dam towering over the capital city.

Unfortunately, this year’s Dam Day was expected to be a disappointment. After a series of unexpected earthquakes, the ground beneath the Western Dam had shifted and caused a large crack to spread across the structure. Water sprayed through the narrow opening and misted Fort Longsworth like a constant rain. The damage only worsened as time went on—the crack grew longer and wider, so water drenched the city more and more each day.

Immediate maintenance was required, but the kingdom’s frugal sovereign, King Warworth, was reluctant to give the orders. Besides being a costly and timely endeavor, the repair would be a dangerous task, and the entire city of Fort Longsworth would have to be evacuated in the process. The king spent many sleepless nights scratching his bald head and twirling his bushy mustache, trying to think of an alternative solution.

Luckily for him (and his very, very wet citizens), new resources were at his disposal, and using them would cost him only a little of his pride. At first, the king rejected the idea, but as he watched the endless mist turn Fort Longworth’s streets into small rivers, he realized he didn’t have a choice. So King Warworth requested his finest parchment and his finest quill and wrote a letter asking for the one thing he hated asking for the most—help:

Dear Fairy Godmother,

Last year, you earned the world’s gratitude after your courageous deeds in the Northern Kingdom. I, along with my subjects, can never thank you enough for sending the terrible Snow Queen into seclusion and saving the planet from the Great Blizzard of 651. Since then, you have continued to fascinate and inspire the world with profound acts of generosity. From building orphanages and shelters to feeding the hungry and healing the sick, you and the Fairy Council have touched our hearts with your compassion and charity.

Today, I write to you with hopes that you’ll consider sharing that compassion with the Western Kingdom. Recently, the Western Dam in Fort Longsworth suffered damages that must be addressed immediately. A traditional repair would take the better half of a decade and force thousands of citizens out of their homes. However, if you were willing to provide us with a magical remedy, my people would be spared from such grievances. If such a gesture is possible, the fairies would earn the Western Kingdom’s eternal appreciation and give us more reason to celebrate on our beloved Dam Day.

It is no secret that the Western Kingdom, like our neighboring nations, has had a complicated history with the magical community. We cannot erase the discrimination and injustices of the past, but with your kindness, we could mark a new beginning for Western relations with magic. I pray you’ll forgive us and help us in our hour of need.

With humility,

His Excellency,

King Warworth of the Western Kingdom

The king was exhausted after all the groveling. He carefully folded the letter, stamped it with his official seal, and gave it to his fastest messenger.

The following morning, the messenger arrived at the border of the Fairy Territory, but he couldn’t find a way inside. An enormous hedge grew along the perimeter and protected the territory like a leafy wall. The hedge was too tall to climb and too thick to crawl through, so the messenger searched the border and eventually found an entrance.

He was surprised to find a large group of other messengers lined up at the entrance, and judging by their elegant wardrobes, they were all delivering messages from prominent households. Even more surprising, the entrance was guarded by a terrifying knight who sat atop a massive three-headed horse. The knight was twice the size of a regular man, and antlers grew out of his helmet. Although the knight watched the messengers in complete silence, he didn’t have to say anything to make one thing perfectly clear—nothing was getting past him.

Two mail bins were on the ground in front of the knight, one labeled REQUESTS and the other PRAISE. One at a time, the fearful messengers approached the knight, placed their messages into the appropriate box, and then hurried away as fast as they could. King Warworth’s messenger waited for his turn and, with a trembling hand, dropped the king’s letter into the box marked requests, then he raced back to the Western Kingdom.

Just a few hours after his letter was delivered, King Warworth received a response. While the king was enjoying dinner in the Western Castle, a unicorn suddenly burst into the dining room with a golden envelope in its mouth. The magical steed was followed by two dozen guards who had failed to stop it from entering the castle. The guards chased the unicorn in circles around the dining room, and on their fifth lap around the table, the unicorn dropped the golden envelope in the king’s bowl of soup.

The unicorn left the dining room just as quickly as it had arrived. As the guards hurried after the beast, King Warworth dried the envelope with his napkin, opened it with his butter knife, and read the message inside:

Dear King Warworth,

I passed your request on to the Fairy Godmother, and she sends her deepest sympathies for your dam troubles. She, along with myself and the rest of the Fairy Council, has agreed to help you. We will arrive in Fort Longsworth at noon on Dam Day to fix the damage.

Please let us know of any changes, conflicts, or additional information prior to our visit. Thank you and have a magical day.

Sincerely,

Emerelda Stone,

Director of Correspondence to the Fairy Godmother

PS—We apologize for meeting you on your national holiday. The Fairy Council is very busy with requests at the moment.

King Warworth was overjoyed by the good news and saw it as a personal victory. He decided to make the Fairy Council’s visit a momentous occasion and ordered his staff to spread word of their upcoming engagement. Soggy banners were flown and damp flags were raised across the moist capital. A row of risers was placed at the foot of the Western Dam, and a stage was built so the king could present the council with a token of his appreciation afterward.

Such arrangements hadn’t been made since King Warworth’s coronation—but public interest in the Fairy Council was gravely underestimated.

On the eve of Dam Day, hundreds of thousands of citizens from all corners of the kingdom traveled to Fort Longsworth. By dawn, the risers were overflowing, and crowds formed in every part of the city with a view of the dam. Families stood on the roofs of their homes, shopkeepers stood on the roofs of their shops, and monks straddled the spires of their churches for a glimpse of the festivities. The spewing dam soaked all the spectators throughout the city; they shivered in the morning air, but their hearts were kept warm by the promise of magic.

The Western Kingdom had never hosted such a tremendous celebration. It was being called “the event of the decade,” “a celebration of the century,” and “a Dam Day for the history books.”

But even with those expectations, no one could have predicted just how memorable the day would be. . . . On the morning of Dam Day, Fort Longsworth was so busy it took King Warworth three hours to travel the short distance between the Western Castle and the Western Dam. His carriage squeezed through the crowded streets and arrived at the dam with only minutes to spare. Once the king was seated in a private section of the risers, an energetic presenter took to the stage and greeted the hundreds of thousands of people surrounding the landmark.

“Hellooooooo, Western Kingdom!” he called out. “It is my great honor to welcome you to what will surely be remembered as the best Dam Day of our lifetime!”

The presenter’s boisterous voice echoed through the congested city, and all the citizens cheered. Their enthusiastic roar was so strong it almost knocked the presenter off his feet.

“In just a few minutes, the Fairy Council will arrive in Fort Longsworth to repair the damages on the Western Dam. Such an endeavor would normally take several years to complete, but with the help of a little magic, the dam will be fixed instantaneously before our eyes! Of course, none of this would be happening without the swift negotiations led by our bold and brilliant King Warworth—go ahead, Your Excellency, give the crowd a wave!”

The sovereign stood and waved to his adoring citizens. Their polite praise eventually died down, but King Warworth remained on his feet, basking in his own glory.

“Now prepare yourselves,” the presenter went on. “At any moment, you’ll be treated to a spectacle that’s guaranteed to stimulate all your senses! But how will the Fairy Council repair the Western Dam, you ask? Perhaps they’ll mend it with the fire of a thousand torches! Perhaps they’ll seal it with a sheet of glittering diamonds! Or perhaps they’ll stitch it together with strands of invincible ivy! We won’t know until it happens! But punctuality must be part of their process, because here they come now!”

In the distance, traveling above the surface of the Great Western Lake, were six colorful young people who approached the city like a moving rainbow.

The group was led by an eleven-year-old girl with a beehive of bright orange hair and a dress made from dripping patches of honeycomb. She was carried through the air by a swarm of live bumblebees. The swarm dropped her off on top of the Western Dam and then took refuge inside her hair. She was followed by another eleven-year-old girl, who surfed across the Great Western Lake on a lone wave. The surfer wore a sapphire bathing suit, and instead of hair, a stream of water flowed down her body and evaporated at her feet. As her wave reached the edge of the dam, the surfer hopped out of the lake and landed beside the girl in the honeycomb dress.

“One is sassy with a stinger, and the other is the only person wetter than Fort Longsworth—please put your hands together for Tangerina Turkin and Skylene Lavenders!” the presenter said.

All of Fort Longsworth burst into applause for the first members of the Fairy Council.

Tangerina and Skylene couldn’t believe their eyes—they had never seen such a massive gathering.

“Is there some sort of sale happening?” Skylene asked her friend.

“No, I think they’re here to see us,” Tangerina said.

The crowds cheered even louder as the next two members of the Fairy Council arrived. A thirteen-year-old girl with beautiful brown skin and curly black hair sailed across the Great Western Lake in a bejeweled sailboat. She wore a robe made from beaded emeralds, diamond-studded sandals, and a shimmering tiara. The girl docked her sailboat at the edge of the lake and joined Tangerina and Skylene on top of the Western Dam. She was followed by a twelve-year-old boy who shot through the sky like a rocket. The boy wore a shiny gold suit, flames covered his head and shoulders, and he was propelled through the air by two fiery blasts expelling from his feet. The blasts faded as he reached the Western Dam and landed beside the girl covered in emeralds.

“She’s beautiful and tough as diamonds, and he’s never afraid to play with fire—it’s Emerelda Stone and Xanthous Hayfield!” the presenter announced.

Just like Tangerina and Skylene, Emerelda and Xanthous were amazed by the sea of people surrounding the dam. The flames on Xanthous’s head and shoulders flickered with anxiety and he hid behind Emerelda.

“Look at all the protesters!” the boy cried. “Should we leave?”

“They seem a little happy for protesters,” Skylene said.

“That’s because they’re not,” Tangerina said. “Read their signs!”

The Fairy Council had grown accustomed to seeing groups of protesters whenever they made a public appearance. Usually, the demonstrators chanted degrading things at them and held signs with messages like GOD HATES FAIRIES, MAGIC EQUALS MAYHEM, and THE END IS NEAR. However, their visit to Fort Longsworth hadn’t attracted the sort of protest they were used to. On the contrary, as the fairies looked around the crowd, they saw only positive messages like THANK GOD FOR FAIRIES, MAGIC IS BEAUTIFUL, and DON’T BE TRAGIC, THEY’RE JUST MAGIC.

“Oh,” Xanthous said, and his nerves calmed down. “Sorry, I keep forgetting people actually like us now. Old habits die hard.”

Emerelda grunted and folded her arms. “King Warworth should have mentioned there’d be an audience,” she grumbled. “I should have known better—monarchs make a meal out of everything.”

The sound of squawking filled the air as a rowdy flock of geese carried the fifth member of the Fairy Council to the Western Dam. She was a chubby fourteen-year-old who wore a bowler hat, a black jumpsuit, a pair of oversize boots, and a bottle-cap necklace. The geese dropped her next to the other fairies and she landed with a thump on her behind.

“Ouch!” she yelled at the birds. “You call that a landing? Meteors have softer impacts!”

“You don’t want to ruffle her feathers—say hello to Lucy Goose!” the presenter announced.

“That’s pronounced GOO-SAY!” she shouted as she climbed to her feet. “Next time do some research before you—” Lucy’s mouth fell open, and she lost her train of thought when she spotted all the observers. “Holy full house! Look at the size of that crowd! It’s even bigger than the one that watched us build the bridge in the Eastern Kingdom!”

“I’d say the entire Western Kingdom is here,” Emerelda said. “Maybe more.”

Lucy grinned from ear to ear as she took in the gathering. A group of children caught her eye and she became very excited. Each child was snuggling a doll that resembled a member of the Fairy Council.

“We’ve been merchandised!” Lucy declared. “Gosh, it’s a real shame we do this stuff out of the goodness of our hearts. We’d make a fortune if we charged admission.”

A hush fell over Fort Longsworth in anticipation of the sixth and final member of the Fairy Council. Just when the citizens started to worry she wasn’t coming, a beautiful fifteen-year-old girl with bright blue eyes and light brown hair descended from the clouds in a large bubble. She wore a sparkling blue pantsuit with matching gloves and a train at the waist, and white flowers were placed in her long braid. The bubble landed gently on the Western Dam beside the other fairies, and the girl popped it with her crystal wand.

“Snow Queens beware—you’re no match for our next guest!” the presenter said. “She is compassion personified and considered a goddess among men—please give a warm Western Kingdom welcome to the one and only Faaaaairy Goooooodmother!”

The citizens cheered so loudly the Western Dam vibrated under the Fairy Council’s feet. People near the front of the dam started chanting and soon the entire city joined in.

“Fairy Godmother! Fairy Godmother! Fairy Godmother! Fairy Godmother!”

Brystal Evergreen was overwhelmed by the passionate greeting. She had never seen so many people in one place before, and every single person was clapping, jumping, or crying tears of joy for her. They held paintings of her face and posters with her name written on them. Little girls (and a couple of grown men) were dressed up as her and twirled fake wands in their hands.

The Western Kingdom’s admiration was an incredible honor, but for reasons Brystal couldn’t explain, all the excitement made her uncomfortable. It didn’t matter how enthusiastically the people cheered for her, Brystal felt undeserving of their recognition. And despite their vibrant welcome, she couldn’t fight the urge to leave. Nevertheless, Brystal had a job to do. So she forced herself to smile and gave the crowd a modest wave.

The other fairies seemed to enjoy the attention much more than Brystal did, especially Lucy.

“Boy, the crowd really loves that Fairy Godmother name,” Lucy said. “Aren’t you glad I gave you a title?”

“I told you I didn’t want one,” Brystal replied. “It makes me feel like an object.”

“Well, as my mother always said, if you’re going to be objectified, you might as well be objectified by family,” Lucy said, and patted Brystal on the back. “Just be glad Fairy Godmother is what stuck—we’ve all been called a lot worse.”

“Excuse me, Brystal?” Emerelda interjected. “It might be best if we make this a quick one. We’ve got a windmill to repair at three o’clock and a farm to defrost at five. Besides, people are starting to foam at the mouth down there.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Brystal said. “Let’s just do what we came here to do and be done with it. There’s no need to cause a bigger fuss than necessary.”

Without wasting another moment, Brystal stepped to the edge of the Western Dam and waved her wand at the damage below her. The giant crack was magically filled with a golden seal, and after more than a week of constant mist, the spewing water finally stopped. To help matters even more, Brystal flicked her wand again and this time sent a powerful breeze through the city that dried all the streets, shops, and homes. The breeze knocked a couple of people to the ground and blew hats off people’s heads, but they returned to their feet with completely dry clothes.

It all happened so quickly it took the citizens a minute to realize their problems were solved. Their roar of appreciation was so powerful it was a miracle the Western Dam didn’t crack again.

“Good, everyone is satisfied,” Brystal said. “Now let’s get going so—”

“Astounding!” the presenter bellowed. “With just a flick of her wrist, the Fairy Godmother has restored the Western Dam and saved Fort Longsworth from a decade of rain! And now the Fairy Council will join King Warworth onstage so he can present them with a token of our kingdom’s gratitude!”

“Say what?” Emerelda said.

The fairies looked down and saw King Warworth was standing on the stage with a large golden trophy. Tangerina and Skylene squealed with delight.

“They want to give us an award!” Skylene said. “I love awards!”

“Can we stay and accept it?” Tangerina asked the others. “Pretty please?”

“Absolutely not,” Emerelda said. “If King Warworth wanted to give us an award, he should have cleared it with me first. We can’t let people take advantage of our time.”

“Oh, lighten up, Em,” Tangerina said. “We’ve worked our butts off trying to gain the world’s approval—and now we finally have it! If we don’t give people a chance to admire us every now and then, we might lose their admiration!”

“I think Tangerina has a point,” Xanthous said. “King Warworth may have broken the rules but his people don’t know that. If they don’t get the ceremony they’re expecting, they’ll probably blame us. And we shouldn’t give them a reason to start hating us again.”

Emerelda groaned and rolled her eyes. She pushed up the sleeve of her robe and checked the emerald sundial around her wrist.

“Fine,” Emerelda said. “We’ll give them another twenty minutes—but that’s it.”

The fairy snapped her fingers, and a long emerald slide magically appeared. It stretched from the top of the dam to the stage below. Emerelda, Xanthous, Tangerina, and Skylene slid down the slide and joined King Warworth on the stage, but Brystal paused before she followed them. She noticed Lucy hadn’t said a word since the dam had been repaired, and instead, she was standing very still, watching the crowd in deep contemplation.

“Lucy, are you coming?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’ll be right there,” Lucy said. “I’m just thinking.”

“Uh‑oh,” Brystal said. “It must be serious if you’re missing the chance to be on a stage.”

“Are we doing enough?”

Brystal was confused by the abrupt question. “Huh?”

“We fix dams, we build bridges, we help people—but is it enough?” Lucy elaborated. “All these people traveled here to see something spectacular, and what did we give them? Some sealant and a little wind.”

“Right,” Brystal said. “We gave them exactly what they needed.”

“Yes, but not what they wanted,” Lucy said. “If performing in the Goose Troupe taught me anything, it’s the psychology of an audience. If these people go home disappointed, even slightly, they’re going to be angry with us. And just like Xanthous said, we shouldn’t give them any reason to hate us. If people start resenting the Fairy Council, then soon they’ll start resenting all fairies and boom! The magical community is back to where it started. I think it’d be smart to stick around and give these folks a show.”

Brystal gazed at the city as she thought about what Lucy had said. It was obvious the people were hungry for more magic—they’d been fixated on the Fairy Council since they arrived—but Brystal didn’t want to indulge them. She and the others had worked so hard to get to this point. The idea of working harder just to maintain their position was an exhausting thought. And Brystal didn’t want to think about anything—she just wanted to leave and get away from the crowd.

“We’re philanthropists, Lucy, not performers,” she said. “If people expect a show from us, we’ll always have to give them a show, and where will it end? It’ll be easier to please people and manage their expectations if we keep things simple. Now let’s accept the king’s award, shake a few hands, and keep it moving.”

Brystal slid to the stage before Lucy had the chance to argue, but they both knew their conversation was far from over.

“On behalf of the Western Kingdom, I would like to thank the Fairy Godmother for her grand acts of generosity,” King Warworth told his citizens. “As a token of our eternal gratitude and undying appreciation, I present her with the most prestigious prize in our kingdom, the Dam Cup.”

Before King Warworth could hand the trophy to Brystal, Skylene snatched the award from him and cradled it like a baby. Tangerina nudged Brystal forward, forcing her into an impromptu acceptance speech.

“Um . . . well, first I’d like to say thank you,” Brystal said, and reminded herself to smile. “It’s always a privilege to visit the Western Kingdom. The Fairy Council and I were very honored that you trusted us with such an important piece of your country. I hope from now on, whenever people look up at the Western Dam, they’ll be reminded of all the potential magic has to offer. . . .”

As Brystal continued her speech, Lucy studied the citizens in the crowd. They were hanging on every word Brystal said, but Lucy worried it was only a matter of time before they lost interest—they didn’t want to hear about magic, they wanted to see magic! If Brystal wasn’t going to give them the spectacle they desired, then Lucy was. And she was confident her specialty for trouble would do the trick.

When she was certain all the eyes were on Brystal, Lucy snuck off the stage and tiptoed to the base of the Western Dam. She rubbed her hands together, placed both of her palms against the stone landmark, and summoned a little magic.

“This should spice things up,” she said to herself.

Suddenly, the Western Dam started to crack like an eggshell. Chunk by chunk, the dam began to crumble, and water from the Great Western Lake sprayed through the structure. Lucy had figured something strange would happen—it always did when she used her magic—but she hadn’t expected the whole dam to fall apart! She screamed and ran back to her friends as fast as she could.

“. . . if we leave you with anything, let it be a newfound appreciation, not just for the Fairy Council, but for magic as a whole,” Brystal said as she concluded her speech. “And in the future, I hope mankind and the magical community will be so close it’ll be hard to imagine a time when there was any conflict between us. Because at the end of the day, we all want the same—”

“Brystal!” Lucy shouted.

“Not now, Lucy, I’m finishing my speech,” Brystal said without looking.

“Dam!”

“Lucy, watch your mouth! There are children—”

“NO! LOOK AT THE DAM! BEHIND YOU!”

The Fairy Council turned around just as the entire Western Dam collapsed. The Great Western Lake surged toward Fort Longsworth like a thousand-foot-tall tidal wave.

“Lucy!” Brystal gasped. “What did you—”

“RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!” King Warworth screamed.

Fort Longsworth was consumed with panic. The citizens pushed and shoved one another as they tried to flee, but the city was so crowded there was nowhere to go. When the tidal wave was just a few feet from colliding with its first victims, Brystal leaped into action. A wind with the power of a hundred hurricanes erupted from the tip of her wand and blocked the wave like an invisible shield. It took all of Brystal’s strength to hold her wand steady, and she was able to stop the majority of the water, but there was too much to stop on her own.

“Xanthous! Emerelda!” Brystal called over her shoulder. “You two stop the water coming around the sides of my shield! Skylene, make sure the water doesn’t spill over the top! Tangerina, help the people get to safety!”

“What about me?” Lucy asked. “What can I do?”

Brystal shot her a scathing look. “Nothing,” she said. “You’ve done enough!”

As Lucy watched helplessly, the rest of the Fairy Council followed Brystal’s commands. Xanthous ran to Brystal’s left side and blasted the oncoming water with fire, causing it to steam and disappear. Emerelda created an emerald wall to block the water on Brystal’s right side, but the wave was so powerful it knocked the wall down, forcing Emerelda to rebuild it over and over again. Skylene waved her hand in a large circle, and the water spilling over the top of Brystal’s shield looped through the air and poured back into the Great Western Lake. While her friends blocked the water, Tangerina sent her bumblebees into the frantic crowd, and the swarm scooped up children and elderly people before they were trampled.

Although the Fairy Council put up a quick and effective barrier, Lucy knew her friends couldn’t block the wave forever. She disregarded Brystal’s instructions and came up with a plan to help them. Lucy whistled for her geese, and the flock swooped down and plucked her off the ground.

“Take me to the hill next to the lake!” she said. “And make it quick!”

The geese carried Lucy to the hill as fast as they could. They dropped her off on the hillside, and, once again, Lucy landed on her behind with a thump—but she didn’t have time to scold the birds. From the hill, Lucy had a perfect view of the Fairy Council as they fought off the monstrous wave. She could tell her friends were getting tired, because the water was pushing them closer and closer to the city.

“I really hope this works,” Lucy prayed.

She summoned all the magic in her body and hit the ground with a clenched fist. Suddenly, hundreds and hundreds of grand pianos appeared out of thin air and tumbled down the hillside. It caused a thunderous—not to mention musical—commotion. All the panicked citizens froze and watched the bizarre landslide in awe. The pianos crashed onto the ground and piled up between the Fairy Council and the enormous wave. The instruments kept coming and coming, and soon the pile grew over the fairies’ heads. Within moments, a completely new dam was created, and Fort Longsworth was saved by a barrier of broken pianos.