Sugar Plum Fairy Art Novels & Stories

As the water entered her water, the memories flooded her. The sun washes the garden with a golden glow and the sugar-frosted coating of winter melts from the grass. Birdsong filters in through the glass. It is the place where the sun never sleeps, lived fairies who are taking care of the heavenly kingdom. Where the tea of forgetfulness comes from. The fairies are not winged fairies that everyone imagined. They have a glittery thing or fairy dust to keep them flying. The fairy dust came from the fallen grains of flowers.

He created five fairies at once, each of a different color—a clear indication that he possessed abilities not even shared by many living creatures. “My little ones, I’ll give you tasks worthy of you!” she assigned specific tasks to the five fairies she had created. Upon hearing each task from their master, the fairies who received their missions immediately laughed joyfully. Their laughter was truly terrifying; that sound was not the voice of an ordinary fairy from a fairy tale. And their sharp teeth—those teeth could pierce human flesh with ease.

And the edible silver pearls she’d painstakingly applied now looked less like fairy dust and more like metallic acne. “It’s a disaster,” she whispered to the empty room. She’d been trying to make “Fairy Forest” cupcakes for Emma’s school bake sale. Emma had been so excited. “Lily’s mum is making butterfly cakes! Can we make fairy ones? With sparkles?” And Keira, wanting so badly to be the kind of woman who could make fairy cakes, had said yes. She was not that woman.

Then back at the sleeve, like the stain had only just appeared through supernatural intervention. “That...” She swallowed. “Art.” I looked at her flatly. “Art?” I repeated. Poppy nodded too hard. “Mixed media.” “Of course. And the medium was strawberry?” “Maybe.” I crouched a little and pulled the end of her sleeve closer. Not just strawberry. There was also a white streak that looked very much like vanilla melted by fate and a four-year-old with no impulse control. I raised an eyebrow. Poppy tipped her head and tried on her sweetest smile. Sebastian’s face in miniature really had no mercy. That little nose, that mouth, the way her chin lifted when she was constructing a lie... damn it.

The music stops and an MC speaks that made my eyebrows furrows “Everyone since this is a special day to celebrate dear Alicia’s anniversary Lady Villaflor and Ms. Ravenwood will entertain us with a friendly competition we called the four arts. Lady Villaflor and Ms. Ravenwood will paint, sing, dance, and do a fashion show featuring Mrs. Xander’s famous designs. May we call Lady Villaflor and Ms. Ravenwood to come in front while our assistants will prepare for the materials and others?” The MC said as everyone claps their hands, I can see my ever-fake cousins and their parents on the side looking as smug as ever.

There were several sections in the hall, exhibiting different paintings and different art forms, but my eyes glued to a particular painting. A serene, pregnant woman stands in the center, her body seamlessly merging with a grand, mythical tree. From her shoulders and back, branches extend, bearing fruit. As the fruits start falling from the tree, they appear normal at first. But as I looked deeper, I realized they weren't just fruits—they were transforming into cherubic babies, gently descending to the ground. The scene is bathed in twilight hues of purple, blue, and pink, creating a dreamlike, ethereal atmosphere.

"What are those?" Aurora smiled. "These are the fall fairies. They have come to change the leaves." Sure enough as they watched. The leaves on the trees lit up. Before their eyes the foliage changed from shades of green, pink or purple to bright red, orange, yellow or even brown. Even the grass glowed and turned from a luscious green to a flaxen gold. The fairies made quick work of the plants as they came close to the humans. Their energy was mesmerizing. Aurora stood up and held out her hand. A single little firefly landed on her fingers and transformed into a creature resembling a tiny woman with wings. "Hello," Aurora greeted, dipping her head to show respect.

"I mean, I could do something like this. My niece could do something like this. All they did was glue paper and toys and then put on a little paint." I closed my eyes for a moment. Her comment annoyed me. I opened my eyes and looked closely at the artwork. If Gwen were here, she would likely see that the pages on the art piece all showed fairy tales where women were poor, forced to be servants. The toys were symbols of things that were traditionally girly—pink, feminine, and suggesting a life of serving others in the home. While the paint was a bit strange, it was clear to me that the artist was showing that women, in many ways, are still held back by these old ideas.

Some have on animal makeups like cats, some have on symbolic makeups, and others have on paranormal makeups like vampires, werewolves, dragons, elves, and all that. The first part of the nights are usually the introduction of artworks. And right now, I’m watching as Iyanu uncovers her art. Even I agree that it’s going perfectly. The fluidity of her speech is outstanding, and the way she conveys every symbol of her painting drives the crowd to an applaud. When she finished, she flashed an ear to ear grin to the crowd that keeps cheering her on. And her art gets sold immediately. Because she’s voted as the top performing artist of the night, she gets to cut the huge cake.

"Sir, can you make a ginormous flower that looks like this?" I display a sketch of the hydrangea flower I drew earlier to the senior. He nods, proceeding to motion his hands and drizzle the melted sugar mix onto the platform. By the time he had completed the first sugar painting, I ask for another one: a peach flower. My eyes are being hypnotize by the essence and beauty of the art. Reminds me of when I used to watch people watch other people make street food. Good ol' days.