Once upon a time, long, long ago, an overworked office manager went for a walk at lunchtime. Muttering to herself about all the things she had to do, the staff she had to train, her despair at the company ever reaching their sales target for the year, and cursing about the fact that she now had to leave work early to pick up her kids from school, she didn’t realise that she passed through a hidden doorway. Sure, she stumbled, but she was deep inside her own head, and just kept going.
Eventually, the coolness of the trees and greenery calmed her down. She found a boulder on which to sit near a creek that, somehow, wound its way through the city.
As she sat, she wondered what it might be like to have things just work out. She pulled out her phone and recorded a voice memo about all the things she needed to fall into place.
Unbeknownst to this poor, overwrought woman, a little creature had emerged from a doorway in the base of the tree. One hand on its cleaver, ready to do battle, it swivelled its pointy ears upwards to determine whether this woman was a threat.
And what the Pixie heard caused it to drop its weapon. Instead, it burst out in front of the woman, who dropped her phone with fright.
‘Ahh don’t do that. It’ll crack and then you’ll have more things to whinge about,’ the Pixie stated bluntly, picking up the phone and handing it back to her. ‘Now. You obviously need to get a lot of shit done. Tell me about it. I might be able to help.’
As she told the Pixie what she needed to achieve, the Pixie gave her sharp, blunt, insightful advice. It guided her to realise that she can do everything she needs to do, provided she thought about them correctly. The Pixie danced around her, asking a million questions, batting away statements that the Office Manager knew she’d said that were just untrue. The Pixie drew diagrams, told stories, and helped the Office Manager to understand exactly what she needed to do next. The Officer Manager was charmed by the little creature, completely drawn into the moment. She forgot about life, about work, about where she was. And she emerged with solutions, plans, and notes that she barely remembered creating. She didn’t have paper with her. Did she?
Shaking her head, she realised just what she’d stumbled into. And had no way of repaying this incredible… thing.
‘Thanks, er, little witch,’ said the Office Manager awkwardly.
It was totally the wrong things to say.
The Pixie was miffed. ‘Witch? Witch?! I’m a PIXIE, thank you very much. Humph.’
It stood with its arms crossed, mightily put out at being misidentified. The Office Manager was alarmed. Wondering what she might be able to do to repair the situation, she pulled a piece of cream ribbon from her hair and held it out to the Pixie as a peace‐offering.
This piece of finery was too much for the Pixie to ignore. Turning around and smiling up at the Office Manager, it took the little bit of ribbon and wound it about itself, humming and dancing.
The Office Manager stood up, realising she’d spent way too much time in the Pixie’s presence. She really had to get back to work.
‘Wait!’ The Pixie held up a hand. ‘Don’t go yet. You need to take something with you.’
It scurried back inside the tree. Curious, the Office Manager stood and waited. She heard bumps, scuffles, and mutterings emerge from the tree. Eventually, the Pixie re‐emerged. It handed her a miniscule piece of paper. As soon as the human took it from the pixie, it expanded into a human‐sized envelope.
‘Read it,’ the Pixie instructed.
The Office Manager started to wonder if she’d entered into some kind of insane contract and had to give up her first born — which, today, wouldn’t be that much of an issue to be honest. She opened the envelope and began to read.
‘You have been helped by a Brutal Pixie, a creature endowed with special powers. Your pixie has a desire to help people just like you, to share knowledge, and not to hide behind bullshit excuses. You’ve already found it to tell you a sharp, clear truth -,’ the Office Manager looked up. ‘Well, that’s true,’ she said.
The Pixie nodded. The woman continued to read.
‘The Brutal Pixies form tribes. Where there is one, there may be many more. They are fond of music and dancing, often fringe musics like heavy metal is common. Yet at the same time, they have a weakness for finery; which is why dancing, the best food, and nice things are highly prized by them. Whenever you pass by this place, gifts of nice things and food will be most welcome. But not too much; the Pixies are not greedy.
‘The humour of the Pixies is twinkling, notorious. Each one likes fun and mischief, lives well, and enjoys life. By befriending your Brutal Pixie today, you have made a friend for life. She will be forever part of your life now, human.’
The Office Manager was simultaneously pleased and worried about this. Does this mean she wouldn’t be able to get rid of this little thing now? Yikes!
‘The Brutal Pixie is an inherently helpful creature, one that lends a hand with the drudgery of work that takes time, effort, and application. They pick up the ‘housework’ and routine chores that are so necessary to make businesses run smoothly. The Brutal Pixies will light the path of travellers who need to find their way. Travellers like you. They are insatiably curious, soak up knowledge about new things very quickly, and share their knowledge to help others whenever they can. The Brutal Pixies are talktative and easily get excited — or even, sometimes, over‐excited, especially about new things.
‘And if you are wondering whether you are now stuck with this Pixie, never fear. The Brutal Pixies reward human consideration. By their very presence, they bring blessings to those who are fond of them. The Queen of the Brutal Pixies is said by some to herself be good luck, and to bring luck to those around her.’
The Office Manager looked up. ‘You have a Queen?’
The Brutal Pixie grinned. ‘You bet.’ It held out its hand.
‘Oh,’ the Office Manager folded up the paper and handed it back to the Pixie, whereupon it again became Pixie‐sized. The Pixie waved and turned back towards its door.
‘Hang on,’ the Officer Manager called. ‘Why are you brutal?’
All the Pixie did was pick up its cleaver, wink, and disappear.
The Brutal Pixies are unfailingly honest. Sometimes they’ll tell you things you have avoided hearing, facts you don’t want to face. The Brutal Pixies will throw cold water on your projects if you haven’t considered all of the projects outcomes. They will challenge you, ask you more questions than perhaps you thought possible. They are naturally good, highly perceptive, and very knowledgeable. They are charming, straight‐up and honest.
The Brutal Pixies are particularly good at detecting chaos and helping humans to avoid it. They have great perception and sense motives, and have the ability to reduce harm. The pixies’ logic is not always of the human kind, but their sense of adventure and risk always brings things together.