Wistless

20251219

Written for Luna Asli Kolcu’s “Myths of Winter - Week 3” event.

Barry was slicing a banana into his wheat biscuit cereal when, with an ostentatious POOF of gold sparkles, a scroll burst out of the cereal box and unrolled itself across the table.
After a long uncertain moment Barry finished dealing with the banana before turning his attention to the message. What on earth could it be? Who did he know who’d use magic like this? And what would warrant… Ah. The elaborate, swirling crest at the top of the scroll answered all those questions at once; it was an invitation to the Court of Longest Night’s Winter Ball.
Goodness.
Of course, given that three invitations were given to local humans at random each year, it wasn’t surprising that it’d land on him eventually. Yet it still felt surreal. He simply wasn’t the sort of person who went to fancy parties, much less magical ones. And given how other humans didn’t find him interesting, he doubted fey would.
At the bottom of the invitation, written in even more flourish-y script than the main message, was “Come as you are. Leave as you wish to become.”
Barry sat down and poured milk over his breakfast. Digesting this strange instruction.
The first half was easy enough. At least, he hoped it meant he needn’t get a tuxedo, or whatever that black tie stuff was. ‘Leave as you wish to become’, though… that had to be about magic. Fey blessings. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that.
Of course, attendance wasn’t mandatory. Entirely voluntary in fact. But… well… not going was a statement. And Barry really wasn’t a statement sort of fellow. Particularly when the people he was making the statement to was powerful fey, and the statement was that he didn’t want anything to do with their parties.
Still.
‘As you wish to become’… embarrassing though this was to admit, Barry couldn’t think of anything he’d want to change about himself. At least enough to spend a wish on. No doubt other people could come up with a long list for him. And they might even be right. But he was perfectly happy the way he was.
Was that arrogance? He certainly didn’t think he was perfect, he just… didn’t feel any great urge to change anything. But if he didn’t show up with a change for them to make, would they be alright with that? Or would they be obliged to change something, whether he truly wanted it or not?
Perhaps he could wish to become, oh, someone who never got ill? That would be nice. If it fell under the rules. He had no idea what those were.
Was there anyone he could ask?
Barry set his bowl aside and sipped his tea, brows furrowed as he read the invitation over again. No, while it gave detailed instructions on how to find the old Barney Circle (presumably for the benefit of invitees who weren’t local), and said that any iron would need to be left at the coat check, there was nothing about magic or wishes or rules regarding them.
Drat.
It was with stoic resignation Barry decided he was going to have to Be A Bother. Better to embarrass himself to whoever was running the help desk than in front of everyone.
Fortunately the Longest Night, like most fey courts these days, had a website. With a contact form - thank goodness he didn’t have to sit on the phone! And this way he could draft and agonise over how to phrase this.
By the time he’d finally sent the question off he third cup of tea was down to dregs. He put the kettle on once more and pondered what else to do with his Saturday. Cleaning the kitchen was a good start. Get some laundry done. He might even load up his bike and-
POOF!
Barry blinked at the golden sparkles, then again as he registered the small figure sitting on the edge of his table. “Who…?”
“Call me Holly.” The fey smiled as if this was all perfectly ordinary. “I’m from the Court of Longest Night. You did say we could contact you directly…”
“Oh. Yes. I did.”
Granted, he’d assumed that meant by email or something. Thank goodness he was dressed!
“So.” Holly leant forward, their eyes glinting. “Did you have a particular wish in mind?”
“Er, not really.” Barry hesitantly sat down. “I, um, was having trouble thinking of any, so I thought if I asked what the rules were that might help?”
“Can’t think of any?” Holly repeated, head slowly tilting. “You don’t want to be taller? Or thinner? Or more muscular?”
“No? I can’t think any of those would make me happier. And I’d have to replace all my clothes.”
“You don’t want to be more handsome? Any celebrities you’ve always wanted to look like?”
“Goodness no! I’d feel like some kind of body snatcher, seeing someone else’s face in the mirror. I know I’m not a looker to most folks, but I’ve had this face my whole life and I’m comfortable in it.”
Holly leant forward, their amber eyes piercing right through him. Then they marvelled “You are. You’re utterly comfortable as you are.”
“Erm, I, sorry.” Barry mumbled, unnerved by the force of their gaze. “I-I think perhaps I’m the wrong person to… perhaps it’d be better to give my invitation to another-”
“Oh, no.” Holly’s grin glistened. “This is perfect. I can’t wait for you to meet Her Majesty. You simply must come.”
“I, ah… if you’re sure.” Barry said, for any other response felt liable to be a statement.
“Excellent!” Holly bounded off the table and rubbed their hands together. “I’ll come pick you up myself. Bring you in through the front. Introduce you to everyone. What an addition to the Feast of Longing!”
“Uhh… Are you sure that-”
POOF!
Oh. Apparently so.
Barry stared at the fading sparkles, wringing his hands, then decided it’d be best to look into where he could rent a tuxedo around here.

Prompt was “You receive an invitation to a ball hosted by the Court of Longest Night. Attendance is optional. Declining is... noticed. The invitation specifies: Come as you are. Leave as you wish to become.”