The house seemed to be the stuff of fairy tales—a little fireplace, with a warm orange fire cackling invitingly, a rocking chair, a narrow flight of stairs leading upwards. Strangely, all this was comforting to me; I almost felt that I had been here before.

“Well, Destiny my dear,” my Fairy Godmother began, but I cut her off.

“Wait. You said it would take a few weeks to mend the colorswirl…does that mean I’m not going home for weeks?”

“Now, dear, never mind that, we have much to do!” Her voice was bright and cheery, and I felt the corners of my mouth begin to turn up in spite of myself.

“Like…what?” I really was curious. Why had she brought me here?

She teetered towards me with a large book, larger indeed even then my encyclopedia.

“The Book of Children,” she whispered, tracing the golden inscription on the cover. “Now, Destiny, let us find you now, shall we?”

And she opened the book.