Being ignored is the worst feeling ever. There's none worser. Trust her, she's had sooooo much time to think about this! There was Addie, who was all pretty faces and smoldering looks until the bill came due and then suddenly whoops! And there was Ourania, who just went and let herself get turned to stone even though she'd asked so nicely just for the key to Addie's heart. And then... and then and then there was the whole world. And when a whole world ignores you that just... ooh!
That's why she loves Mittens soooooo much, you know? You know?? All the thoughts are still little jumbled up in her head, but she's sure she remembers plain as day widdle Mittens jumping up to her and begging for scritchies and mew mewing so cutely all for her, just for her! All of the love in that silly billy kitten's heart just for her precious Euphie. And not even the other Euphie, just for her! For her! Ah! She twirls in place thinking about it. As long as her itty bitty pretty kitty is safe and hers, everything's gonna work out fine! She'll put her in a teeny bed in the Tower of Art and then...
Argyle finally shifts, stirred by Mistress' giggling. The great glass dragon shifts its massive weight, spreads its massive prismatic wings... and blocks Lil' Euphie off from the tree entirely.
"Bad dragon! Bad! That's not what I told you at all!" she whines and stamps her foot as hard as she's ever stamped it in her life.
She feels tears welling in her eyes. She feels her heart tearing itself to shreds all over again. It's so hard to put back together, you know! She feels
OOOOH!
Moment of Clarity tiiiiiime~
"You poor, silly thing. I'm so sorry Argyle," Lil' Euphie coos sweetly, rising up on a sudden bump on the hill to give the glass dragon's great big snoot some loving pats, "This must be so confusing for you! Did Other Euphie forget to tell you there were two of us now? Oh no, she did! All your memories are wrong, you don't even remember how I built you, do you?"
She runs her fingers down the length of Argyle's face, tickling under the smooth, just slightly chilly jaw before booping that big ol' adorable nose. She flashes a smile that's somehow as terrifying as it is dazzling, all the more of both for how sincerely sweet it is.
"Mommy'll just have to fix that, won't she?"
And she thrusts her arm into the dragon's skull all the way up to her elbow and starts (gently! carefully! she doesn't want to hurt the poor thing!!) rooting around inside its brain. Theeeeeeeeerrrrre we go! Just add a little New Euphie here, take away a little old Euphie there, and ooh! OOH! Let's make the lovely dear a music lover! And with all those eyes Argyle just has to love the visual arts too, right? Now a little extra viciousness to make up for that, keep him a good guard so none of those nasty princesses go snatching up her apples afterwards, then a little more of thiiiis and a little less of thaaaat and whoopsie that's not supposed to go there, hahaha! It's actually so much--------
Once upon a time, there was a girl. Her name was Isolde. Isolde Waverly, not that you care a single jot about that. She was not a graceful girl, or a rich girl, or even an especially pretty girl. In fact, you couldn't go so far as to call her a happy girl, which in Illumina was some sort of crime. But she very definitely existed. There was a girl, and her name was Isolde Waverly.
Her family kept no permanent home. They wandered from village to village, patching what was broken when the townspeople would let them, taking what scraps people had to give, and then moving on for the next city, next town, next campsite if they had to. Wherever something wasn't right, that's where they had to be. Isolde followed, useless and miserable and ignored. Her heart was a shy and timid thing that ached with the need to be pretty, or to make something be pretty, or to make something that was pretty, so that somebody would just tell her, just once, just only once please, that she was good and worth loving.
But there was nobody to teach her how to make more than glass patches for roofs and walls. She had no natural talent or time to practice. And no one ever, even once, called her a good girl. She existed, and that was already too much.
Her family, you see, had done something very very bad before she was born. Not so recently that the people could tell her what it was, exactly, but not so long ago that they'd forgotten that it happened. Her parents told her that life was about fixing mistakes. It was about making the things that were wrong be right and not asking for thanks because the job, the only job a Waverly would ever be good for, was about setting the scales back the way they were supposed to be. Scales never needed a thank you, did they? So neither did her family. So neither did she.
Until one day, of all the places in the wide and shining kingdom of Illumina that could be broken, Isolde came to visit the glittering Castle Thessia. She came because the Princess-Promised had gotten into a fight with her best friend, and the resulting tussle had taken out a big chunk of the Solarium before they made up again. There was a great need for glassworkers from all over. Isolde was told to shape and form for seven days and seven nights. She was told to leave it raw. A master would come and finish it for her later, all she needed to worry about was the labor.
But on the seventh night, she couldn't help herself any longer. A panel, a single panel, is all she had left. Everybody was asleep, everybody but tall, willowy, plain Isolde had gone home for the night and left her all the materials and nobody to tell her no. She just... she wanted to make something be beautiful. To make something that was beautiful. To be called good and told that she was loved. So she poured all of her heart and all of her craft (borrowed second hand from stolen glances here and there growing up) and all of her art into this panel, snatching colors and stencils as the will took her.
And in the dawn, she was finished. And what she saw filled her with misery. It was misshapen, abstract, amateur, pathetic. She'd tried to make an animal scene, fish frolicking with water deer under a rainbow, because she'd seen that once and it made her heart leap with joy. She'd just wanted the royal family to feel that too. But you couldn't tell what any of it was. And she'd done what she was told not to do. When they came to take the final piece, the Knights saw her standing there, crying over her hideous masterpiece. And they grabbed her by the wrists, took her panel with her and all, and carried her into the castle to be dealt with.
Isolde had never seen anybody half so beautiful as Princess Halcyon. She watched those lavender curls with a pang like longing in her heart. She stared at those perfect lips as they pursed, dreamed of kissing those slender fingers as they turned her panel over and over and over again, got lost in those sharp green eyes as they looked quizzically at this travesty. She trembled when she thought about how all that perfection would look yelling at her and ordering her banished forever.
Princess Halcyon refused to let the panel become part of the Solarium. Because, she said, the artist's pain and the beauty of her soul had captivated her so much she couldn't bare to let it get lost in 'all that gaudy boring stuff'. She asked if she could keep it safe in her room, instead. They say the princess had her heart stolen shortly after. And Isolde, before you knew it, awkward, talentless, too-tall Isolde was King of Illumina. And as it turns out? She made three impossibly beautiful things. You've never seen their like in all the world.
But none of them were ever made of glass. Because she'd become so busy, you see. She'd never really, you know, ever properly learned to shape glass after all...
"There. We. Go!" Lil' Euphie chirped. "Now Argyle, do you know who I am?"
Argyle looked at her. And then it turned its other head to look at her again. And then its other other head. And then its other other other head. And finally its other other other other head. The silly head nodded. The angry head snarled, but it nodded to. The cool head rolled its googly eyes and snorted like yes mom whatever, but that was just as good as a nod could ever be. The shy head pulled back, then it turned briefly to look into the forest and stare at something before it hunched down by the ground and made the barest of adorable nods. The boring head glanced nervously at the other four before shaking no.
Bap! Bap! Bap! Bap! Four heads punished the boring one. It winced and whined, and nodded.
"Hooray! Now the most important test: I would like an apple please, Sweetness~"
Nod. Nod! UGH! ...nod. The boring head whimpered and pretended there were very interesting bugs on the ground and couldn't see her. Four glass lumps grew out of its crest and throbbed with painful reds and purples.
Lil' Euphie chirped, twirled her finest twirl, and skipped along to take her win, and all the respect and love she deserved but never ever got, not once, in her hands at last.
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