Elijah held the tray with two bowls of soup and meat pies. It was breakfast for Valentine and Fantasy. He remembered watching this tiny body of a woman materializing on the table, right before his eyes. Suddenly, there was Fantasy, a character from a storybook. He had read the story a handful of times as a child, but he had never thought it would end like this. 

He couldn’t tell if the woman in front of him was truly a representation of the character he had imagined. She was a priestess in the story, a priestess who could heal any wound. In the stories, she had magic but she was utterly human. She wasn’t an Etheri. 

Elijah shook his head, clearing his thought. He stood in front of the door and it clicked open for him. He was surprised to see Valentine sitting up and looking… alive. Though Valentine’s injury had left him ill and bedridden, he had looked dead. The sadness and grief had been eating away at him alive. Now, he had some color on his face, and he was smiling. 

Val laughed at something Fantasy said, before noticing Elijah’s presence. “Brother.” Val smiled so brightly.

Fantasy also turned to look at him. Her brown eyes seemed to take him in completely, running over his face and body, turning to find something. “Hello.” She finally met his eyes. 

“Elijah Auberjonis.” Elijah nodded in polite greeting. 

“La-” She coughed. “Fantasy.”

“La? So that must be the beginning of your true name.” Val grinned at her.

She playfully scowled at him. “I am not used to referring to myself as Fantasy, you know.” She looked at Elijah again. “And I know you, Elijah Auberjonis. I particularly enjoyed writing about you.”

Elijah was oddly pleased to hear that. “I’m pleased you found me so enjoyable.”

She nodded, before getting up. “I’m sure you are starving, Val. Eat up.”

Val grabbed her hand. “No! Stay, please.” He looked at her with his pleading eyes. 

Her face softened, “If you say so.” She sat back down.

Elijah cleared his throat, “Good thing, I brought food for two.” He placed the tray on the bed and sat in the armchair by the window. 

Val happily dug into his food. “We were just talking about what Fantasy knew of us. Apparently, we are a story in her realm.”

Elijah was surprised. “Us? A story?

“Yes. The tale of the six princes. And it wasn’t a famous story, per se.” Fantasy answered. “I was still writing it.” 

“So what is our fate? I think you would know, right?” Val asked. 

“Well, I think everything changes now that I am here. I mean, I would surely disturb whatever the story was originally going to be.” 

“What was the original story?” It felt strange to refer to their lives as a story. 

“You would all live happily ever after.” Fantasy said after a long pause. “A witch would help cure Val. The princess of Dracos Vos would try and spin it to her sister queen to attack you. A quick war and victory would be yours.” She replied. 

Elijah thought of Cythia, the princess who cursed Val and killed his human lover, Rose. The queen wasn’t cruel, but she did anything Cythia asked. Including war, if it pleased her. “It sounds like them alright.” 

Val had gone pale. Fantasy took his hand in hers and squeezed. “She suffered, just as she should have.” 

Val merely nodded. 

“I still truly believe the story changes with me here. Everything changes with me being here.” Fantasy said grimly. 

----

Silas watched the female being called Fantasy. She was pretty, though a bit quiet and brutish. She carried herself like the noble highborn ladies. Her shoulders were thrown back, back as straight as an arrow. But her eyes had a haunted gleam to them as though she was stewing over something she had left behind. 

She was noting all the little details in each of them. Whenever her eyes caught his, he didn’t break his stare like Tarquin or Caspian. No, he stared her down. It was a threat and a challenge. And she stared right back at him, eyes as hard as steel.

“Deep in the woods, there is a witch huntress. She was the one who cured Valentine. Her name is Kellice. She’ll know how to help Valentine.” She finally said to Tarquin, breaking the awkward silence. 

Silas tried not to stiffen at Valentine’s name of being mentioned. He hated watching his brother suffer. “Why can’t you do it?” Silas asked. 

“I told you, I don’t have magic.”

‘You must have some magic. I mean, how did you learn of us then?” Elijah questioned.

“Up until yesterday, your entire world was a part of my imagination. I don’t know what happened or what forces are at play, but be assured, I am human.” Fantasy answered firmly.

“Fine, we will not question you about this anymore. But you would know where this witch lives. Come with us.” Tarquin suggested.

“If she is truly human, the woods would be the last place we should take her to. You know what filth hides in there.” Max argued. 

“Let the four of us go then. You, me, Silas, and Fantasy.” Tarquin smiled grimly. “I’d like to see what filth can attack the four of us.”

“But-” Max was cut off by Tarquin.

“That’s not a suggestion, Max. It’s a command.”