Light. Bright, yellow light.
It was a needle prick in the veil of darkness, but it grew in size, steadily, as if it were chasing her.
The oddity of it arrested her.
Stalled upon the beaten cobblestone of the rural town's center, she watched with bated breath to see what would become of the light. She was weary, yes, but more than anything she was exhausted. The events of the past few weeks were beginning to take a toll on her already frail mind.
At first, she thought it to be a flashlight or even a single headlight. It wouldn't surprise her if it were. She was a woman on the run, after all.
But a peace that passed understanding enveloped her, keeping her rooted to the spot until that light grew in circumference before it expanded and took on form.
Then the light birthed a small building.
She blinked. The establishment was situated just behind a copse of trees on a small slope that looked over the cobblestone path. It was not as comely as the other buildings that encircled it, but it was quaint.
And with it's sudden, unexplainable appearance, came the absolute truth that she had fought so hard against.
She truly was deranged. Mad.
Tucking her arms close to her chest, she worked on evening the breaths that were now coming in quick succession. Her chest squeezed, painfully.
Unlike the countless attacks before, it subsided within moments and she was bid forward by an invisible pull.
'Come,' it seemed to beckon, into the mysterious building.
She gave a humorless laugh, running damp palms down her head and smoothing the strands of unkempt hair that days on the run and tangled, irreversibly.
Why not?
She had no where else to be and the rain had left a chill wedged in her spine. Even if it were a figment of her cruel imagination, she would forget the cold for a few minutes.
Upon closer examination, she discovered the building was a coffee shop. A painted cup of steaming coffee was painted on the front, but there was no name as far as she could see.
The light from within it spilled onto the cracked, stone she walked up, revealing muddied and bloodied feet with a single hospital band on her left ankle. It mocked her, reminding her of who and what she was.
An invalid.
Lifting her gaze to the window, she noticed several tables and a few booths that spanned around a single bar area. Nearly every table was filled with people, except for a single booth tucked in the furthest corner. A single man in a navy blue suit was seated there. As if sensing her gaze, he lifted his chin and looked at her with a smile.
Her heart stumbled over itself.
Auburn curls haloed the man's head, framing a square jaw and throwing shadows against deep cheekbones. The man was handsome and he was gesturing her to join him.
She hesitated, but the pull was undeniable.
Swallowing back a lump of fear, she opened the door and stepped inside. She had expected pointed stares and gasps at her appearance, but no one appeared to notice her.
It was strange, but then, this was only a figment of her deranged mind.
Chin kept low, she approached the booth where the man was waiting for her.
"There you are!" he exclaimed, when she was still several feet away. He leapt to his feet and waved for her to sit across from him. "This is, well, no, not really, but this is an honor!"
She frowned, not understanding his choppy sentiment. It wasn't what?
"Thank you," she whispered, sliding into the seat he had indicated.
He settled in across from her and beamed at her as if she could were the eight wonder of the world and he had been the one to discover it. "Forgive me, for my excitement. You see, I've waited a very long time."
Before she could think of a response, a waitress came forward carrying a tray loaded with food. With a toothy smile, she placed the food onto the table in between them, then she turned and left.
"I remembered that you didn't like pickles," the man said, taking a fry into his mouth. He swallowed it whole and gave her a wink. "No salt. I promise. I know how much of a health nut you are."
"I-I've not had fries since I was five." Nothing made sense. This man was truly crazy, but since he was only part of her mind, she knew that meant she was the crazy one.
"I need to go."
"No, wait! I'm sorry if all of this seems..."
"Crazy," she finished for him when he hesitated.
He nodded, searching her eyes. "But it's not and you're not. We've searched for you on every continent and country, but it wasn't until someone leaked your whereabouts on the news that we found you. Didn't you wonder how this place appeared or what it was?"
She shrugged, a bitterness washing over her. "I'm crazy. It's just my mind playing tricks on me again."
"You're not crazy," he murmured, a hint of sorrow in his voice. "And your mind has never played tricks on you. It sees things mortals cannot explain and it scares them. That is why we were never meant to live among them."
"You're saying I'm not mortal?"
"That's exactly what I'm saying."
She gave a despondent shake of her head. "You're crazy. This is all some sort of illusion."
Her words made him frown. He pittied her. It was written all over his face. She glanced away, unable to bear up under such sympathy. Tears brimmed her eyes, unbidden. She had been locked away for over a decade and experimented on. Abuse and pain were her life's anthem, but it was not a banner she wished to wave for people to see.
She swiped at the moisture on her cheeks, but more replaced it. The man reached across the table and touched her arm.
"It's okay. I promise that you will never be harmed by those swine again. I'll protect you and see that you are returned to our kingdom, safely."
"Our kingdom?" She asked, glancing up.
He nodded, slowly, taking in her disheveled countenance. Perhaps, he was worried that she would run if he said too much. He would be correct in that assumption.
"Your fae. I am as well, but not as powerful."
She started to protest, but he held up his hand for her to listen.
"I know it seems crazy. If I were imprisoned by the humans for thirteen years and led to believe that I was also a human, I wouldn't believe me either. However, I can prove to you that I'm not lying and that you are a fae."
Sitting back, she folded her arms, waiting for him to continue. The small inch of faith she gave him, spurred him on. The radiant smile he wore made her almost regret giving him a chance to explain.
He just seemed too elated, too chipper, while she was drowning. He may have the boat and the oars, but she was still swimming against the current, uncertain if it was wise to trust him.
"Let's begin with this place. Do you remember it?"
She shook her head, but even as she did, she could not deny the familiarity it harbored. "I don't remember it, but it feels like I've been here before."
"That's because you have. Your guardians brought you here as a child often."
"My guardians?"
His expression darkened. "Yes. Guardians. They were to keep you safe, but they were killed."
The news of their deaths grieved her. Though she didn't remember much of her past, she had retained some snapshots of her childhood, including a man and woman. She vividly remembered their smiles and the scent of peppermint mixed with lavender. It had been her dream that they would come for her, but they never had and now she understood why.
"They sacrificed themselves for you," he said, carrying unaware of her inner turmoil. "As would any of us in the Guard."
"But why? And if that's true, how did I wind up with the humans?"
"Because of who you are and who you are destined to become," he said, reverently, voice barely above a whisper. "It's a long story, one that may be hard to understand and come to terms with considering all you've been through, but I will not keep it from you as some believe I should."
He slanted his shoulders, leaning forward. "Centuries ago, there was benevolent king who served our kingdom with wisdom and kindness. He had two sons, Owen and Kium. The younger one, Kium, took after his ways while the older grew jealous of the favor the king showed his younger sibling. Owen was next in line for the crown, but the king sensed the evil within his eldest son and divided up the kingdom in two. He gave the larger portion to the second born, in hopes that he could save the remnant from the older son. But the man devised a plan to lure his brother into his kingdom and it was there that he killed him. King Owen then had his wife and children murdered so that it left him as the rightful heir to both crowns. He still reigns today, but those of the other kingdom have rebelled against his rule, because we know we have the very thing that will dethrone him and restore the rightful bloodline to the crown."
The story was a sad one, but intriguing. She soaked in all that he had said, mulling over it until he raised his brow at her.
Clearing her throat, she asked, "But what does it have to do with me?"
"You're the granddaughter of the true king of Caverinum. It is you, and you only, that can restore the kingdom and end the tyranny of the evil king."
She guffawed, but his stern look stopped her. "Okay fine," she relented, throwing up her hands. "Let's say all of what you said is true and not complete insanity, why should I believe you? You don't even look like what a fae should look like. And in that matter, neither do I. What proof do you have?"
"What should fae look like?" he asked, unamused. "Pointed ears? Blue skin? Wings that sparkle in the moonlight?"
"No." She chewed on her lip. "Just... different."
He pulled back his hair to reveal two pointed ears. They were short, but the skin was drawn in at the top to form an undeniable, sharp apex.
"Yours are hidden beneath a spell that your guardians put over you to protect you while they were hiding you in the mortal realm."
"Then remove it and show me."
"I cannot. While I have some power, only a select few has the strength and talent to unravel another's power."
She wasn't sure if she believed him. After believing she was a nobody, it was impossible for her to think she could be someone important. Also, she was raised to believe that she was insane and not to trust anything her mind thought up.
How did one overcome ones own mind?
As if sensing her thoughts, he reached out with his hand and opened it, palm up. There, laying against his pale skin, was a small stone with golden swirls etched onto its surface.
"I can't make you believe me, Princess," he murmured. "But if you come with me, I promise I'll keep you safe and explain everything else along the way."
"But this other king." She glanced away from the stone and met his gaze. "He means to kill me, doesn't he?"
"Yes. But I won't let that happen." The sincerity in his voice made her heart swell.
Shame warmed her cheeks, forcing her to bow her head. "I don't even know my name."
"Ayra." There was a hint of a smile in the lilt of his tone. She looked up and his smile broadened.
"So, Princess Ayra, rightful heir to the throne of Caverinum, what do you say?"
Ayra's mind was already made up. While humans had lied to her and mistreated her, there were things that could not be explained, things that she remembered from her childhood before she was taken and things she had encountered while within it.
Perhaps, if she went with him, he could unravel those mysteries. But she did not dare to believe that all of what he said was true. Only time would tell, but anything was better than running from the authorities and sleeping in her hospital gown in the woods or hunting for scraps out of dumpsters in the allies.
Placing her hand on top of his with the stone between them, she said, "I'll go. I forgot to ask you your name."
His smile grew, but it was dark and malicious.
"My name? Why, it's Prince Alistair, the son of the true king, Owen."
Horror and dread breathed ice into her veins. She had been tricked.
She yanked her hand, meaning to tear it from his hold, but his grip was unyielding.
Then, they vanished in a plume of purple smoke as the stone's power swept them away.
ns 172.71.254.92da2
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