A Nixad Made Me Do It
I did push Selia into the sea. But it wasn't to ruin her dress!
You see, I spotted a nixad on the way to the beach. Selia kept telling me it was wrong to sneak away. She was quite loud about it, which is how she drew its attention.
You know how nixad are. They pluck out the eyes of pompous children, then roll them around in moon-sugar! I had to do something so the nixad wouldn't turn Selia's eyes into snacks.
At first I thought to tug at her hair. I saw the nixad giggle, but Selia ran and shouted how I would be in such trouble.
That annoyed the nixad, so I chased Selia. I caught her at the little rise by the sea and pinched her arms. I thought we were safe, but then she said, "I will tell Mother what you did, and you will be in such trouble!"
I could hear the nixad's wings. If you can hear them, it means they're angry. What else could I do?
So I pushed. She fell into the sea, soaked through and spluttering. The nixad laughed so hard it fell out of the air.
Selia bawled all the way home. I made her walk—I refused to carry her one step. That was enough to satisfy the nixad.
Mother, I admit I was cruel to Selia, but it was the only thing I could do to protect her. Isn't that what you taught me? To stand up for my little sister?
—Your loving daughter