There’s a lady who’s sure all that glitters is gold
And she’s buying a stairway to heaven
And as we wind on down the road
Our shadows taller than our souls
There walks a lady we all know
Who shines white light and wants to show
How everything still turns to gold
-Led Zepplin, Stairway to Heaven
“God,” Jhudora muttered, flopping onto her throne. She shook her head.
“God,” she sighed again.
It had not been a good day for Lady Jhudora. There had been the Light Faerie incident, and then the Healing Springs had burst a pipe and, souls alive, did that make a mess. She huffed and looked away from the too cheery, too pink and cute decorations of Faerieland around her, staring into the wispy masses of her own wonderful dark cloud. Below her the dark water pool ripped and shone like water, but stiffened like glass to the touch. Puffs of neon green and purple steam rose around her, and she closed her eyes and exhaled, leaning back in her throne. She reached into an ornate bowl by her chairside and drew out a toy. It had been a ball and paddle, but she had removed the ball and replaced it with a little earth faerie. As she beat the little pixie back and forth against the paddleboard, concentrating on her tiny high-pitched shrieks, she smiled.