“Kay,” Zephen’s icy voice makes me flinch. “What happened?”

“I…” I start shakily, scared to meet his eyes. I don’t know what’s happening, why this is such a big deal. It’s just a bird. I don’t understand why everyone is freaking out, and I don’t know what I did to deserve this.

I finally bring myself to look up, finding Zephen’s eyes surprisingly tender—a look that tells me he believes me before I even have to open my mouth.

“I didn’t do anything, I swear. The bird…it just came to me. And now everyone’s freaking out.”

Something flashes in his eyes as they flicker to the bird which is still perched in front of me, grooming its feathers without a care in the world. 

“Kay, hold out your arm.” Zephen says.

I frown, confused, but do as I’m told. I hold out my right arm to the side. “Like this?”

The bird sees this gesture, its head turning towards me and the long feathers on its head stand up, as if alert or curious.

It opens its wings, flapping to gain altitude before swiftly landing on my arm, its claws holding onto me tightly, but not enough to penetrate the skin.

Comfortable. As if we fit together like puzzles pieces.

“I’m sure you can see for yourselves.” Zephen turns to the crowd, his voice filled with an odd sense of satisfaction. “The bird has chosen her on its own accord.”

“How magnificent!” Professor Durney pats me proudly on the back. “A familiar already!”

“What’s happening?” I frown, glancing at the bird who is now looking at me with its beady eyes. It blinks, bringing its head to bump gently against my cheek.

I let out a giggle as its feathers tickle me, which seems to please the bird who bumps against me again.

Professor Durney’s eyes crinkle as he smiles widely at me, proud like a father, “It means you show great promise. I’m excited to see your powers.”

“Indeed.” Zephen nods, yet his face is blank. “It’s time to go home, Kay. Magic class is over.”

“Home?” Rosalia chokes next to me, her voice a squeak. “Kay, you live with Lord Gale?”

“Lord Gale?” With the bird incident, I almost forgot to question the title. “You mean Zephen?”

“Zephen Gale,” Rosalia whispers furiously under her breath. “Known as Lord Gale, the leader of the Wind Faeries. The right-hand man of Queen Titania herself. You live with him?”

“He’s my Guardian.” I say, which evokes more gasps and murmurs. Oh, here we go again.

Impatient, Zephen speaks again. “Let’s go, Kay.”

“Yes, yes. I’m coming.” I answer in the same impatient tone, looking at him with displeasure.

I lower my arm and the bird hovers by, flapping its wings in quick, short pumps before landing on my shoulder in a more comfortable position.

My arm was beginning to cramp up from being raised to long.

I follow him past the other students. I wave goodbye to Rosalia who hesitantly waves back, her pink eyes still wide with disbelief. Professor Durney bids me goodbye warmly, still with that meaningful smile.

Professor Sofronio doesn’t say anything, but her frown is deeper than usual. I quicken my pace to match Zephen’s rapid footsteps.

It doesn’t take us too long to leave the academy grounds.

Once we’re quite a bit away, Zephen’s stiff posture seems to relax slightly, his pace slowing down. His tone when he speaks is laced with careless interest. “How was school?”

I almost snort at the unexpected question, a little too casual for what just happened. “You sound like my dad.”

His jaw twitches. “I had nothing to say.”

“Then don’t say anything.”

A pause.

“You don’t trust me.” It wasn’t a question. I stop, surprised by his blunt and honest words. He stops as well, turning to me with a questioning yet knowing gaze.

“It’s not hard to tell. You don’t trust me. You don’t trust anyone here. Is that right?”

“You would’ve been the same in my footsteps.” I find the need to argue, to defend myself. I don’t deny it.

“Yes,” he drawls, his eyes simmering into a darker shade of the beautiful emerald. “I would have. That’s why I don’t blame you. But I can’t have you distrusting me, for I am your Guardian. This’ll be a lot harder if you don’t trust me.’

“Trust needs to be earned.”

“Indeed.” The corners of his lips lift into a tiny smile, pleased by my answer. “You are more than you seem, little one.”

“Little one?” The nickname makes me clench my teeth. “I am not—”

“You are little." Zephen cuts me off, proceeding to walk down the stoned path. “For I am more than two hundred and fifty years old—in human terms.”

I sputter, not expecting that at all. He looks no more than twenty-five. “Two hundred and fifty?”

“I’m still young, mind you.” His tone is both amused and annoyed.

“Faeries are different than humans. We age differently. Time here is different too. Our days are longer, less hurried like human days. We do not try to rush through our life, for there is no need to.”

“And I?” I ask quietly, the revelation suddenly reeling in my mind. “How long will I live to be?”

“The average Faery lifespan is about a thousand years old.” Zephen looks thoughtful. “Rarely do I engage with Halflings, so I’m not sure. But I suspect half that time. Around five hundred years, perhaps.”

“Five hundred?” I frown, unable to conceptualize what that means. “What do you do every day? Doesn’t it get boring?”

“It does.” He answers simply. “But here in our World, there is much to live for. We must care for the trees and flowers, for the earth. We care for humans when the time comes. We are here to offer help and wisdom. We must live, for the World has given it to us.”

The way he says it is soothing and reassuring. I relax, my previous anxiousness simmering down, retreating to the back of my mind. The bird on my shoulder lets out a squawk.

Zephen turns to stare at the bird. “When your powers show, you should make it your Daemon. It seems awfully attached to you. For now, you can keep it as a familiar.”

I reach to stroke its soft feathers, the creature closing its eyes at the feeling. “Familiar?”

“Sometimes animals will choose a Faery to declare their loyalty to. It’s different than a Daemon, for Daemons are a part of us, while familiars are separate beings.”

“I see.” Not really, but I guess I’ve become the bird’s owner somehow.

A pause.

“When will my powers show?” My tone sounds more dejected than I intended, surprising myself.

“That depends entirely on yourself.” He says. “When your body is ready, magic will naturally show.”

What a vague answer. I wish someone would just tell me the exact time and day I’ll get my powers, like I’m some sort of superhero in a movie. That would make things so much easier.

Silence ensues, just like it always does when I’m with Zephen. He’s hard to open up to, since he doesn’t open up himself.

I always find myself reserved around him, keeping to myself when I so desperately want someone to talk to.

I don’t think Zephen will even understand if I confide in him.

I haven’t gotten used to this world yet, haven’t gotten used to him, or Faeries or Faery magic.

Or anything in general. The thought that I could live to be five hundred years old. Five hundred.

The thought that I currently have a bird perched on my shoulder. I look around the forest, counting as many odd things as I can.

A rabbit-like creature with seven long, bushy tails. Its fur looks so soft, giving me the strongest urge to pet it. As it turns around, the red eyes and longs fangs makes me rethink it.

A flying dog-like creature with wings like a bat and a long spiky tail flies overhead, hiding in the shades.

A scaly bird that changes color along with the light around it perches nearby.

Something big and furry with a small, long head walks past lazily.

Something black moves like liquid.

“Kay, move!” Zephen yells, his voice fierce.

It snaps me from my daze, and he pushes me out of the way just as the black thing strikes the spot I just stood at.

I fall, yelping in pain and shock and my eyes dilate at the sight of the thing.

A Shadow.