Once upon a time, there was a brilliant young person. They were blessed with many attributes of perfection, the greatest among these being their incredible intellectual aptitude. It is, on this fragile planet Earth, nearly impossible to find a human with a mind that can truly be classified as a genius, but this particular person was among the lucky few possessed with this rare trait. They had the power to do nearly anything, even bring about world peace, and only one thing was stopping them.

This thing is commonly known as the adult who takes care that most wonderful of humans.

That adult would often say  to their brilliant child, "You know I love you, but you still need to..." This sentence could continue in many different ways, from "go to school" to "eat broccoli." The genius did not wish to do those things, but was forced to, against their better judgement. This stopped them from saving the world. Then, one day, a fairy godhuman swooped in...

Sighing, you put down your pen. You are no genius, and no fairy godhuman is going to come save you from anything. You're an ordinary person, going through all of the things that are so common among people your age. You are not in a fairy tale, and, tomorrow, you are going to have to be shipped off to boarding school. Because, apparently, your perfectly adequate schooling situation is not adequate at your age, learning ability, and during widespread virtual learning. And the rest of your family has to take care of a sick distant cousin from Alaska.

So boarding school it is. If you lived in a fairy tale, you would be saved just about now. But, as it is...

A miniature flying horse is at your window. No, wait. Somehow it used its hooves to open your window. A tiny pegasus is in your bedroom. Now it transformed into a letter? You are so confused that the only viable options seem to be screaming and reading the letter, and you decide that the latter would be less embarrassing to look back on once you wake up from what has to be a dream. So, you read.

My dear friend (or, perhaps, despised enemy),

How are you? I'm doing well, thank you for asking, although I have recently been diagnosed with an incurable and deadly allergy to small talk, so it's probably best to move on from this stage. It's best to get right to the point.

I am a fairy. You are in distress. I pick up on distress signals, and I want to save your life, so would you like to come to a ball? I live in palace. I can use my stunning actual magic powers to make you royalty, give you fancy clothes, maybe even some sort of magic power of your own (nothing big, though, that's far too draining.)

So, please. Join me in Lilac Palace for a ball and formal dinner.

But remember.

The magic ends at midnight.

Larom Ross

***

Yes. This is a ski lodge, obviously. Apologies for throwing another one at Pudding's Place, I know it's overflowing, but I've been thinking about this one for months, and I think maybe it's time to start. Apologies part two for the below-average introduction to the story, it's late and I just did ten pages of math homework, but I want to get this done so I can start on May 1st. I do promise that my writing is at least a bit better than this. Form is below. I will accept about 10-15 people, hopefully enough apply before May, and if not, we'll just make do with what we have.

Name:

Age: 

Gender/pronouns:

Preferred Royal Title:

Appearance:

Ballroom garb:

Preferred magical powers (nothing major, please):

Favorite food:

Other: