Should he really tell her? But even if he did tell her, she will ask more and more specific questions, and he'll never know when she will stop. That's what happened last time, she asked about how she came into this world, and when he gave a simple answer, she asked for details out of childish curiosity. Even though she was a 12-year-old girl, yet she asked like a younger child.

Rogas turned to the dining room window and saw the clouds, their colour was slightly darkening, twilight was on its way, and soon after, dusk then nightfall. He turned back at her.

"Why do you want to know?" He asked, hiding his tone successfully. 

"Well... I always wondered if I was alone or the only Faery in this place, if I knew there was another Faery, I would be... Happy." She fiddled with her sleeves.

"And what about me? How can you say you're alone when you've got me?"

"Er... You're a human with dragony powers," she said

"And?"

"You have an awesome dragon climbing all the way from your hand until your back,"

"Nelsia, that's not the poi--"

"You've got pretty, long, black hair and-and there is some hair growing on your chin too,"

"Alright, this is called a chin beard and I get it--"

"And oh! You have that long dark line going down from your right eye--"

"Nelsia, enough!" Rogas stomped the ground to bring her attention, and she did stop her talk.

"I appreciate the compliment, but what I'm asking is why do you think you're alone when I'm here taking care of you? Why am I any different?" He repeated the question, and Nelsia hesitated by looking around.

"Well, what I meant to say was, am I alone as if the only Faery? I didn't mean it that way, of course I'm not alone now when you're here. I just want to know if there are other Faeries like me, with beautiful colourful wings and pointy ears like mine... " She went silent for a moment.

Rogas only sighed. "From what I believe, Faeries are gone, and you are the last one, as for me, I'm not human either. I'm actually an enchanted dragon who's in a human form... That's all I have to say."

Nelsia looked at him, her pointy ears seemed to move and lower as if in disappointment. Then she asked. 

"Are you the last one too?" 

Rogas did not answer her question but lowered his head to the floor. He looked at the window again.

"We're running out of time, I think it's time to go to bed."

"But it's too early--"

"I said it's time to go, no buts... We'll continue tomorrow." Rogas levitated the books with his magic and ordered them to fly to their bookshelf, then turned his heels and walked upstairs.

Nelsia sat there, wondering about his sudden change of behaviour when she brought up this question. Did that specific question somehow hurt him?

~~~

It was completely dark outside her bedroom window, but it was much darker inside her bedroom as well, to the point she couldn't see her own hands. However, there was an exception, an exception that she couldn't control. Her slightly large butterfly wings glowed and twinkled in pastels of azure, pink, lavender and mint, it's what kept her comforted. To always find light in the darkest of places. 

Another reason she adored her glowing wings was she used them to brighten it and reflect their light at the rotten walls, like shards of a broken mirror reflecting the light. Once she does that, her fun begins. 

As the pastel light floated around her dark room, she closed her eyes as her mind began to paint her euphoria of daydreams and fantasies. 

She imagined herself on her island, instead of the mossy clouds that blocked the light, the clouds turned white as snow as they parted to reveal the clear pink sky, along with the gigantic orb that hung above, shining ever so brightly that the entire land was bathed in its eternal light. As for her island, it wasn't dark as well but rather was consumed entirely by countless flowers of various colours. Filling the air with the sweet floral scent.

She twirled to see the cottage she used to live in with her father, it wasn't in a crooked posture nor was it rotting with old wood. It stood straight with its bright red stone and off-white walls, with the bright yellow and combed hay that triangled the cottage on top as the roof. There were some flowers that decorated the window sills and door as well. What a sight to see.

Before she could enter her newly beautified cottage, her father came out the door wearing the widest smile ever despite his mature and serious mien. In his hand was what seemed to be a pan with no handle, yet it contained a dish that made her mouth water with hunger. There were golden brown braids laid on a bowl of what seemed to be a blue soup, and steam was slithering upwards into the air, giving away the sweet scent of it. 

"Nelsia, look at what I made!" Her father called in excitement. 

"What is this?" She returned the joy as she approached him and her eyes shimmered.

"This sweet dish is called a pie, it's like a bread that is shaped like a pan. It has mashed blueberry in it, and it's going to be your favourite!" He told her, offering a closer look.

"This looks yummy! Can I have it?" She pleaded.

"Oh not now, how about we go on a picnic in the ocean? And we'll share it with the fishies!"

"That's even better! Let's go!" Nelsia's sheer excitement made her wings flutter, and as they fluttered they lifted her a few feet from the ground then put her back.

Not too long, she found herself on the boat holding the beautifully woven basket on her lap while her father rowed into the blue horizon, as they sailed through the sea, large schools of beautiful fish swam along and painted the blue water with their shiny colourful scales. Making the entire ocean glitter like Opal stones.

Then, her father shared every piece of pie with everyone with a smile, he even shared it with the fish in the sea and they jumped with glee. 

"Oh wow! This pie tastes delicious! Thanks Mr.Rogas!" The fish called.

"Your welcome fishies! My pleasure!" Rogas replied.

"What else can you make, dad?" Nelsia chewed her pie.

"I can make spongy desserts called cakes, the only flavour we have are flowers!" He answered. 

"Can you make it today? Pretty please?" She asked. 

"Of course! Anything for my little Faery," he said. "but first, I want to show you something special." He lifted his hand in the air and twirled it as green auras swarmed around his hand.

Then he tossed the light in his palm into the sky, and it went shooting with a whistle. When it reached the top, it exploded into millions of colourful sparks that filled the sky. From red, orange and yellow to green, blue and violet.

Nelsia was awed at the sight, then gasped when these sparks gathered as one and soared across the sky, leaving behind a trail of all colours in one curve that sparkled. 

"What is that?" She gasped.

"That curve is called a rainbow," he answered. 

"And when can I see it?" She turned to her father, curiosity glimmering in her eyes.

"After a rainy day, when the clouds go away, there you will see a rainbow that will make you feel better," he calmly replied, this time with a gentle smile drawn across his face. And she could clearly see a parental joy in his emerald eyes.

And there, she wished if her real father Rogas could possess such emotion and give her what she has always fantasied about, a true fatherly love.