White 03 (Nivea's Thoughts)

Nivea read the preceding with a hint of revulsion shivering down the snow blue skin on her neck and arms. Her crystalline wings beat a nervous little swathe into the icy air as she hovered over the shoulder of the slumbering polar bear.
"It's sad... I think," Nivea said, her fragile voice issuing a cloud of steam that froze and fluttered to the ground with the sound of a symphony of shattering glass warbled notes. Each ice droplet sang as it fell, perfectly beautiful in its brief moment of musical life before it exploded on the snow covered ground below. "I can't really tell..."
The polar bear, whose name was Elijah, grumbled, half-asleep and annoyed. He lifted a massive paw up toward Nivea, making the effort, at least, to acknowledge her.
"It certainly seems sad... Do you think it's sad?" she asked, crinkling her tiny faerie features. "It seems sad."
"Mmmm... sad," Elijah mumbled.
"It's confusing, isn't it? It seems awfully confusing..."
Stiria, then, the wiser of the two snow faeries, flew by, and noticed the look of consternation on poor Nivea's face. "What's wrong, Nivea?" she asked.
"We found this little book," Nivea responded. "I don't really understand what's inside, though. I think it's sad. It seems sad."
"Mmmm... sad," Elijah reiterated, still asleep.
"Let me see," Stiria said, grabbing the little book. "What is this?"
"Elijah found it in the snow," Nivea explained.
"Mmmm... sad," Elijah added.
As Stiria read the little booklet, her eyes narrowed. "It's not saying anything," she whispered. "It seems like nonsense."
"It seems sad," Nivea said.
"You've mentioned," Stiria snapped. "I don't know... I don't think it makes any sense at all."
"Mmmm... nonsense," Elijah said, sleepily.
"I think it does. I do. I think it does make sense. I think it's about dreams," Nivea said. "About dreams and memory. About fantasy."
Stiria lifted her head up quickly. "Fantasy?"
"I think so. But not the sweet kind of fantasy," Nivea said, shaking her head and letting her white hair flit about, soft and slow. "Not our kind of fantasy."
"Ah. No. Not our kind," Stiria agreed. "Is that why he added us? Is that why the author added us into the book?"
"I think so, maybe," Nivea said. "I don't know. It seems confusing. Like there's a story, there..."
"But there's not," Stiria said. "There doesn't seem to be a story..."
"Mmmm... nonsense," Elijah said again.
"No, I suppose not. But we do seem added intentionally, don't we? A way to lighten the mood? A way to bring a slightly magical narrative to a collection of dreariness and..." Stiria started to say.
"Sadness," Nivea concluded.
"Yes, I see," Stiria said, unhappily. "It seems like a strange thing to do, doesn't it? To prattle on incessantly about all of the awful things that run through a mind? Especially when there's so much beauty in the world. So much prettiness."
"That's why he has us, right?" Nivea asked. "To remind him?"
"To change the direction of the story..." Stiria said.
"Even when there's no real story to speak of..." Nivea said.
"Right. So, then, see? It's not so sad," Stiria said, closing the little book and returning it to Nivea. "It's not so sad at all."