Chapter 1
Holiday’s aren’t just presents, and they take effort to establish. There are various paths to them, with different rules, different territories, pricey objects, and sometimes magical powers. One young man Toporon may or may not become a Holiday. But if it is possible for Toporon to win a day, he will, and he will do so because of his indomitable fluffy tail.
Toporon sat on his bed in a porcelain yet unkempt room flipping through his withering textbooks. If he doesn’t figure out a world class master spell soon, he will surely fail to spread his lore to the world. And for an upcoming Fey that would do little, but only make him fade away.
However, he feels so lost with out his teacher, and the woman he secretly loves. Their ages are only different by one hundred years, a little time for Fey, but he still feels so apprehensive.
“Gwendal, I need some help with the beginning of this book!”
Little Toporon waves his wand at a mirror, looks at his almost human appearance, with his long hare ears, and impeccable male torso.
“Oh mirror, please show me Gwendal.” The spells he chants in his mind is all muddled up with his other spells. She would be so mad at him because of his lackluster tries. It seems poor Toporon may be doomed for demise.
Oh, Come on! He wiggles his small tail and hopes the light shines on the mirror showing her beautiful face. Suddenly, he sees her reflection on the mirror, but he is fully aware she has opened the door. Is it possible that something good has happened? The beautiful girl-bunny, someone who looks like she is of the same coin, pulls out a letter in her hand.
“Is that from who I think it is?” Toporon nonchalantly asks as he leans against the door. He sniffs the smell from his arm and almost falls. She clears her throat and begins reading it out loud. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to forget that look. She looked as happy as an oyster that had made a pearl.
“Dear Gwendal,
We are proud to formally accept you onto October 2nd. The businesses will soon show your face by next year. We are looking forward to having you in the Hall of Fey. And remember, you will need someone to keep you warm on your very special day.”
“Congratulations Gwendal!” He’s genuinely happy for her, and she hugs him tight. She has her bag behind her blocking the oak door to their shared hallway. He’s hoping she’ll his hand in ascension. It has been his reoccurring dream since she first sang him a song in her cheers class. And he smiles, excited enough to make his plum cheeks go from blue to green, she takes out a box and gives it to him.
“I hope you like the gift for you Toporon.” She swivels her hips and stares at him.
“I’m sure I will” He replies with glee. “I can’t believe you picked me.”
She giggles and grips her palms tight. He starts to open it, but as does there is no shine. He is afraid to continue. He finally gets the courage to ask her. “Gwendal did you pick me?”
She looks of shock hearing him. “I wish I knew, Toporon. Your such a handsome fluff, but I don’t believe I could ever be with someone your age.”
My age I’m 97!
“But you’ve cuddled before with me on the couch downstairs. You’ve given me kisses and more underneath the mistletoe and danced with me under the moonlight. Was that all for naught?”
She sighs and grazes her hand against his grating heart. “Toporon, when you reach my age you stop drawing so many boundaries. I just wanted to have fun with you, and I think we had a lot of fun. But you’ll have to become a Holiday by yourself.”
Toporon freaks and throws the box towards the bed. Gwendal jumps up and flaps her wings screaming while bouncing on the springs they've worn out for the last time. She has the box in her hand.
“You fool! Do you think I would leave you with nothing! I love you, stupid bunny. Now take your time to open it. I must find Mr. Twilight by tonight. It is getting so close to the end of day. I’ll see you later Toporon.”
“I’ll miss you dearly.” He whispers.
She blows a vapid kiss and goes off to somewhere above him.
He’s not sure what she could have left him, but he really doesn’t care. He sleeps to avoid the twilight.
