You ever just suddenly awake with a jolt, sweat all over your body? That feeling that something’s just so terribly wrong but you can’t place a finger on it? Well, that’s how I woke up this morning. Sweaty, achy, and simply ready for the day to be over with. For you humans out there, I’m an Ezan, basically what you guys would call a fairy. Both my parents were born with the blessing of Mazian, which is basically magic. They’re also some of the most elite Ezans out there, which is concerning for me since my wings haven’t even grown in yet. Until today. 

My entire back was filled with the sensation of firey pins and needles. I sat up as fast as possible, praying that the feeling would go away. I could feel my shirt being stretched, and I could hear it snapping apart. I yanked the shirt off, now only wearing pants. I sat there for a moment, not wanting to get up. The pain had yet to subside, and I was surprised that I hadn’t passed out yet due to the pain.

I finally stood up, staring at myself using a polished spoon. I should mention, Ezans are about the size of an orange. What looked to be feathers, poked through the skin on my back, making light blue blood pour out from what felt like my whole body. Unfortunately, it was still midnight, and my parents were still away on their business trip, so nothing really could help my pain. Even if I tried to use numbing sigils, they wouldn’t kick in until dawn.

I woke up, still half-naked, on the diorite floor. My blood surrounded me, making the once white-grey floor now a muddled bluish color. I wanted to vomit just looking at it. But good thing is, I passed out due to pain! Thank goodness I didn’t have to feel all of that. I looked at myself again and nearly fainted again. Pink and purple scales covered the entirety of my body, along with bright red scaled covering my face. This wasn’t good. Scales meant that I too had the blessing of Mazian.

Most Ezans would be proud of getting scales. Scales were seen as a good thing, but to me, it was not. I never liked the idea of Mazian, it just feels, unnatural, to put it simply. I just wanted to live my life as a Mazian-free Ezan, going around to give little humans hope. I really, really, wanted feathered wings. Not this . . . scaly stuff. I could still fly, but it wouldn’t be the same.

Another thing, for you humans out there. Ezans are not supposed to reveal themselves to humans. Ever. No matter what. I personally, could care less about the rules of our civilization. I really like humans. First off, they’re huge. We’re like, the size of their hand. Secondly, they have so many things! Big things, little things, round things, oddly-shaped things. It’s beautiful. But most Ezans don’t see it like that. Humans are big scary things that can hurt us. Big deal. Literally.

I took one of my mother’s dresses, (made out of maple leaves!) and put it on. My wings fit perfectly through the hole in the back, and even though I hated the scaly wings, I loved the feeling of maple leaves on my back. And the smell made it all even better. I fell asleep sometime later, facedown on the marshmallow couch in the main room. Once again, humans also have these really fluffy things called marshmallows, and instead of using them for comfort, they eat them. I don’t understand it myself, but hey! At least we get a new marshmallow every few weeks!

Mother and Father came home later that day, both preppy and excited about . . . something. Oh, right, I forgot. I now have wings. Mother was a white and black scaled Ezan, and Father was purple and green. I was a mix of everything, as it seems that now, instead of just red, pink, and purple scales, it had grown to red, orange, green, pink, purple, and black scales. Great. Now I really looked like a true Mazian-filled Ezan. They congratulated me and took me to our king, which by the way, is not what I was hoping today would be.

King Lazarus stood before me, holding a large scepter in his left hand. King Lazarus was a sight to behold, with two sets of wings, one feathered, and one scaled, with two sets of eyes to match the disturbing factor of it all. 

I zoned out for a bit, and I realized that he had placed the layer of magic on my wings, that, in simple terms, allowed me to fly without my wings getting shattered by simple things, like wind. I didn’t want to be in this place anymore. My parents were now expecting me to go to several training classes to learn how to use the Mazian, and other classes that would teach me how to be a better Ezan. 

That night, I packed a large walnut full of things I’d need, but it was mostly leaf clothes. I didn’t have too many hobbies, and the ones I did have, only involved water and plants. I snuck past my parent’s room and closed the door behind me as I left their home. It was no longer my home since I was leaving. Hopefully, I’d never come back.

The wind outside was brutal, pushing me back and forth in the wind, making me drop my bag. I didn’t bother to go looking for it, and instead, just kept flying toward the human town. The wind was now in my favor, helping me keep a steady glide as I flew toward the human town. Until it didn’t. The wind picked up, sending me careening out of control until I hit something, and everything went dark.

I woke up on a soft surface, somehow softer than marshmallows. A human girl stood in front of me, eyes wide as she stared at me. Her hair was yellow and went past her shoulders. If she were an Ezan, that’d be outlawed. No Ezan is allowed to have their hair past ear length, because of interfering with the wings. I never minded that rule, I will admit though, that I was curious to know what long hair was like.

“Hello?” The girl whispered, holding out her pinky finger to me. I reached for her finger, and she lightly pulled me to my feet. I tried to smile, but even now, it was hard. This was a dream! I should be happy, but it felt . . . wrong. 

I woke up again upon touching her finger and realized what had happened. I had used the dang numbing sigil, and it must have put me to sleep. Darn. I pushed myself to my feet and noticed something: My hands were no longer covered in scales, nor was my back. There was hardly any blood on the floor, and looking in the mirror, I finally came to terms with what had happened: I never got my scales. I didn’t have Mazian! I had feathered wings!

I smiled and jumped up, running out of my room, and was planning on going to my mother’s room for a dress, but . . .  the outside of the house was on fire. I heard yelling and screaming from outside. I strapped a small leaf to my chest and ran outside. Everything was on fire, and a human man was holding a large bag with clear jars. Each one held what looked to be Ezans, and I heard him talk to someone beside him. 

The girl. The same girl from my dream. She was helping him do this. I had dreamt, of an impossible world. One where humans were not greedy. One where humans did not destroy creatures like me. One where humans . . . did not hunt, for the last remaining strands of magic in their dying world. You humans can change this, for better, or for worse.