[SHORT STORY] Cloud Fairies

You've heard of clouds. You've heard of fairies. But how about cloud fairies?

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Cloud fairies are not like regular fairies. Regular fairies live at ground level and, more often than not, close to sea level. Many of them can fly and even twirl and spin in the air, but you will never see a regular fairy float far above the tallest tree in their woods. By contrast, cloud fairies are not to be found in the woods, but rather high above the ground, closer to what could be considered bird territory, or higher still. Much like some of their regular counterparts, their physical appearance is formed to mimic their surroundings; this, however, is precisely what gives them their distinct look: translucent white skin covered in opaque white fur across the torso. It is this ethereal appearance that has led many to confuse cloud fairies with angels. But cloud fairies, as their name suggests, are fairies, not angels. Angels are, like our human soul, spiritual beings, and they exist throughout the universe, even beyond the limits of our space and time. Cloud fairies, however, are physical beings, however ethereal they may appear. Although they are seldom seen at ground level, they are a species native to our planet and dwell in our troposphere, which they call home. They are also firmly bound by space and time—especially space, as they tend to be smaller than most other fairy species. It is not yet clear when or how cloud fairies came to be, and there are many theories floating around. Most of them seem to agree that cloud fairies are more closely related to regular fairies than to any other species. Some theories suggest that a group of ancient fairies was swept away from their habitat by a fierce wind and forced to remain aloft. However, researchers are still investigating the matter, sometimes with tempers hotter than the takes themselves: one debate on whether cloud fairies are more closely related to red or yellow fairies had to be brought to an end when one of the speakers threw water from his cup at his opponent. In any case, cloud fairies are now extremely well-adapted to the high altitudes they inhabit: their tiny bodies require very little oxygen and their stomachs have adapted to feed on the material clouds are made of. So, contrary to popular belief, clouds do not serve as houses or cities for cloud fairies, but rather as sources of nourishment. It is unlikely that you will find a single, solitary cloud fairy—or even just a pair. Even during their youth stage, when they leave their family unit, cloud fairies join together in youth groups of 3 to 150 members that stick together until each of them leaves to form a family of their own. Each pair can produce up to 120 offspring, and new pairs tend to stay close to another pair until the birth of their first offspring. When they grow old and all their children leave the family unit, they join elderly cloud fairy groups similar to youth ones. If you ever encounter a solitary cloud fairy, you can almost assume that they’re lost, especially if you find them at ground level. If they're an offspring, rest assured their parents are looking for them; look around to see if you find any adult cloud fairies moving hastily nearby and return the offspring to them. If they are a juvenile, their group might also be looking for them; if you cannot locate the group, go to the top of the tallest building or tree and launch them upward as high as possible. Adult family members are easier to deal with: males will neither ask for help nor require it, while females will tell you exactly when and how to assist them. As for elders, the best course of action is to follow most of the protocol for lost juveniles, except that you simply leave them at the top of the tree or building and allow them to call for help from other cloud fairies by force of their wisdom—pleading, guilt-tripping, whining, and so on. The situation changes somewhat when two cloud fairies are involved. Most of the protocols remain the same, with two exceptions: a pair of juveniles and a pair that is neither crying nor attempting to return aloft. In the former case, juvenile cloud fairies function remarkably well in pairs; therefore, they are far less likely to need your help. In the latter, beware: one of them may in fact be a metamorph, a creature so vile and dangerous to cloud fairies that I would rather not elaborate further; separate them as soon as you identify them. It should be noted, however, that cloud fairies do not grant their trust easily or indiscriminately. If they find themselves near someone they do not trust, they will try to become invisible to them, which is relatively easy given their appearance. On the other hand, there are times when they will actively seek contact with certain humans, particularly in matters related to the environment. This aspect makes their confusion with angels all the more understandable. However, anyone who has come into contact with cloud fairies would not describe the experience as angelic. For one thing, those individuals were fortunate enough to have noticed them; many recall being told by the cloud fairies they encountered that they were not the first humans they had attempted to contact—and, in many cases, not the first to fail to notice them. For most of those who received that message, this was not surprising. Cloud fairies are not particularly skilled in human speech: although they can articulate words and structure sentences, they deliver only one word for each element of the sentence (subject, verb, and object). And their high-pitched voices do little to aid comprehension. Instead, their preferred method of communication with humans is a kind of group sign language, in which they attempt to convey meaning through collective visual representations. With their tiny and near-transparent appearance, it is no wonder why this invisible game of charades tends to be ineffective, further worsening their communication difficulties with humans—and their own irritation towards them. This is, in the minds of most cloud fairy connoisseurs, their greatest difference from angels: not their size, nor their style of communication, but their temperament. The majestic, composed, radiant, formidable, and eloquent nature of angels could not be more different from the shaky, tinkling, nervous, impatient, and clumsy demeanor of cloud fairies. When addressing a room full of people unfamiliar with the subject, a cloud fairy expert once summarized the distinction as follows: “If angels are like Saint Bernards, cloud fairies are like Chihuahuas.” Nevertheless, irritation has not led to greater distance. Research has shown that cloud fairy sightings have increased over the past century, leaving some astonished and others unimpressed. The latter argue that the rise of air and space travel has made cloud fairies more aware of humans and the impact they have on their habitat, leading them to regard our species as both a potential partner and a potential threat—or as either, depending on their mood. The adoption of this environmental role by cloud fairies has given them a special place within human environmental movements. While it is true that most, if not all, fairy species have their own place within these movements, the active role cloud fairies have taken—unlike that of most other fairies, with a few notable exceptions—has led human activists to view them less as creatures to be protected and more as allies to be respected. One might wonder whether cloud fairies actually seek this kind of respect from us humans. However, it seems clear to me that this is far from their true goal. Beyond their obvious interest in preserving their own habitat, I have come to believe that cloud fairies possess a particular desire to make humans “look up.” Or at least, that is what I understood from them. Indeed, I am among the fortunate few to have established contact and communication with cloud fairies. A group of 24 juveniles made 4 separate attempts to communicate with me until I was finally able to notice them. To express their desire for me to write about them, the entire group picked up a pencil I had on my desk and scribbled across a sheet of paper until I pieced together their message. Today, this group stays at my house alongside 5 families and a group of 4 elders. I honestly do not know why they have chosen to stay here, though they have proven remarkably helpful with household chores, especially cleaning. That said, on the few occasions when I forgot to provide them with food, I found the house in far worse condition than before—especially the kitchen, where flour, salt, and baking soda had been scattered everywhere.