Most Beloved
It was not clear what awoke Magweed that clear fall morning, the gulls circling her lighthouse home or the sunlight tickling her face through the open window. Irregardless of the source, the young girl awoke and sat up in her bed, arms stretched high and wide to stir her muscles back to activity.
With her stronger right leg she kicked the down comforter away and, bracing herself with her good arm, swung herself so her bare feet dangled over the side of the bed. She rea ched out to grasp for her cane before sliding down to the floor.
She quietly made her way to the wash basin in her bathroom. A splash of water across her pale green face helped to chase the last of the sandman's influence away. She found an elastic band and pulled her long brown hair away from her face, a few stray wisps escaping confinement.
With her hair secure, she padded back into her bedroom. She began to go through her closet, looking for something to wear. She quickly decided on a pair of comfortable dark jeans and a pair of white and pink socks. After a few more minutes of perusal, she settled on a tan t urtleneck.
The young girl then pulled on her favourite sweater vest, made special for her by her auntie Kerry's friend Samantha. It was green and yellow, modeled after her father's penchant for a green sweater and yellow overcoat. When she wore it she felt like her father was always with her, protecting her.
While she was dressed, Magweed was still far from ready to leave her room. She was born with a frail arm and leg, and they were not strong enough to support her without help. Friends of her father's had designed for her a set of special braces that would not only help her get around, but also build up her strength so that one day she would have no need of them.
She started with the arm brace; without it she lacked the strength to properly fasten the one for her leg. It had taken her weeks before she was able to don the braces without help, but now that she had mastered them she was determined to never need help to use them ever again.
Maggie fastened the last strap of her leg brace and stood up, this time without the aid of the cane. She took a moment to get used to the padded metal embracing her limbs, then stepped through her bedroom door.
It was still very early, and she did not want to wake any of the other occupants in the house. Her brother's room was next to hers, the door wide open. She imagined that the wind must have blown it open through the night, as the young boy inside usually slept with the door partially shut. Griffin was tangled in his covers again, his bare feet sticking out from the mass of fabric. He often dreamed of fantastic battles as a mythical griffin and more than once had actually thrashed his way out of his bed onto the hardwood floor below, and Maggie reasoned he had had such a dream again. She smiled at that; Griffin loved dreaming of flying, so he had told her.
The room with the biohazard symbol on the door belonged to her auntie Kerry, who was the legal ward of her father and also his sister by adoption. While Kerry would never hurt Maggie, the young girl had learned quickly that if she wished to enter the room, she was to knock, then hide around the corner to be sure no stray explosions made their way out of the room when the door opened. After that it was safe. Mostly.
The last door before the stairs belonged to her father, Visionary. To many his name seemed odd, even peculiar with his lack of a surname, but to the fairy princess who was born t o two mothers, one of extraterrestrial origin and the other a sophisticated computer system, the peculiar was rather ordinary. Most of her family had no last name, though she herself had two. While she went by Magweed, her birth name was actually Naari, which in the Caphan language of her mother translated to “most beloved in all the world”.
Taking special care not to wake her father, Maggie crept down the stairs of the lighthouse. She lacked the stealth of her brother Griffin, but she still did her best. One day she would n ot have the leg brace weighing her down, clacking against the wooden steps.
Once Maggie reached the ground level she made her way outside. She loved the outdoors, especially early in the morning. Her home on Parody Island allowed her to feel like she was away from the technological bustle of the city and one with nature. Having grown up in Faerie, modern technology was something she was still adjusting to.
As she made her way down the cobblestone path to the island's shore, animals began to gather around her. A robin perched itself on her shoulder, and field mice frolicked at her feet. As she approached the water several fish signaled their greeting by leaping above the waves, the morning sun gleaming on their scales.
When her friends were around the animals were not as open with her, as they were frightened by those who did not understand them. But in the early morning, with a salty breeze w histling through her hair and the human and humanoid occupants of the island tucked into their beds, she could get out and spend time with her feathered, furred, and finned friends in peace.
And thus Princess Magweed, Naari of the House of Visionary, most beloved in all the world, gave that love back, one tiny friend at a time.
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