The Yellow Fairy Dust Saga
The Vanishing Teacup Where Dust Takes Us Crossing Worlds The Eve Begins Scaling Up
The Vanishing Teacup
Part 1 of the Yellow Fairy Dust Saga (March 1820)
In the quiet of a snowbound laboratory beneath the Great Fir Tree, Santa Chris Kringle paced in front of a glowing hearth, a worn leather journal in one hand and a small, corked jar in the other. Inside the jar shimmered a dust the color of dandelions in full sun—Yellow Fairy Dust, recently extracted from a collapsed fairy trail in the hills beyond Snowball Village.
Chris had been testing it for weeks.
He’d already knew that Red Fairy Dust enabled flight, a revelation that changed travel forever. But this new dust… it was elusive. Unruly. Objects sprinkled with it sometimes flickered, sometimes melted, and once—rather alarmingly—his entire inkpot had vanished with a soft pop.
“Every time I don’t know what I’m doing, it disappears,” he muttered.
A firm knock echoed from the archway. Fenrick Redgleam, head of the Reindeer Corps and steward of Red Fairy Dust, stepped inside, brushing snow from his sleeves. “I hear Rudy’s chasing a crate of missing fruitcake around the supply shed. Something you want to tell me?”
Santa smirked. “Purely for science.”
Fenrick raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “We ration fairy dust for a reason.”
“I know,” Chris replied, “but I think I’m onto something. I wasn’t trying to move that crate—I just didn’t want it here. And poof. It wasn’t here.”
Fenrick crossed his arms. “So you did want it gone.”
“Exactly.” Santa walked to the table, retrieved a plain wooden block, and dusted it with a delicate pinch of yellow sparkles. He focused, clear and deliberate: on the shelf in the observatory, next to the star maps. A moment passed. Then, ping—the block shimmered and disappeared.
They hurried to the observatory. There, precisely where Santa had visualized, the block sat undisturbed among the ancient star charts.
Fenrick let out a slow whistle. “You’re telling me this stuff moves things—if you think hard enough?”
“Teleportation,” Chris said with awe. “But it’s intent-driven. No spell words. No markings. Just concentration and will.”
Fenrick nodded. “I’ll have Rudy keep the sleigh team grounded until we know more.”
Chris, already scribbling notes into his journal, didn’t look up. “This changes everything.”
©Copyright 2025. All rights reserved.
We need your consent to load the translations
We use a third-party service to translate the website content that may collect data about your activity. Please review the details in the privacy policy and accept the service to view the translations.