“The Young Ones lack control. It will be hard to get them ready in time.”

“Yes,” Zephen sighs, nodding. “But I will make it happen.”

She hesitates, looking as if she wanted to say more, but shakes her head.

She bows curteously, bidding him goodnight.

Then she leaves as quickly as she came, the door banging shut behind her.

For moments, the room is silent as I try to figure out what I just heard. “Uh…who is she?”

“Daera Bridd.” Zephen answers. “Earth Faery. Don’t be fooled by her appearance; she’s actually much older than me.”

“What?” I blink, unable to believe it. She looked so young I thought she was in her mid-twenties.

But I can’t judge a Faery based on my human knowledge, I’ve learned that much.

“So…” I fiddle with my fingers. “What happens now?”

Zephen exhales, looking up at the ceiling. “I’m not sure.” He answers, his voice soft—his eyes soften when he meets my worried ones.

“But there’s no need to worry, little one.” I’m not sure if he’s just trying to reassure me, or if he actually means it.

“I am worried though.”

He sighs, making his way back to the kitchen where he carries out a plate and sets it delicately on the center of the table.

“I know, but I will do my best to protect you. I will teach at Encharmus. I will need to talk to Professor Durney tomorrow about it.”

I choke on my spit. “You’re teaching?” Wait, he did say something about that to Daera, but he’s going to be teaching me?

He looks amused now, raising a delicate eyebrow. “Yes. Problem?”

“No.” I wave quickly, grimacing at the thought of him teaching. “No problem at all.”

I purse my lips tightly, still confused about what exactly is happening, but whatever it is, it isn’t good.

In the human world, war is never pretty. I can only imagine how terrible it will be with magic added into the mix.

Darkness is looming nearer, Zephen’s words repeat in my mind.

Darkness. Shadows. It’s not hard to piece together the puzzles; the Shadow Faery that once terrorized the lands will be back.

And from what I can tell, very soon.

“Hey,” he touches my shoulder. “Don’t look so worried. You will be safe. Now, let’s eat, yes?”

I force out a smile, trying to relieve the heavy tension in the air.

Right, food.

I sit down, once again reminded of my hunger from the lovely smell of the dish. I inspect it, wondering what exactly he had made.

It’s oddly colorful, shades of purples, pinks, yellows and greens. Looks too neon to be food and I crinkled my face in disgust. “What is that?”

“Pinco roots.”

“Right, like I know what that is.” I say sarcastically, which Zephen answers with an amused smile.

Okay, well I did ask a stupid question, and since these are roots of some sort, not a strange intestine of something, I relax.

I tentatively take a spoonful, eyes widening at the taste. It’s weird—but delicious. A taste that cannot be replicated in anything human.

Salty and sweet, a few sparks of spiciness that explodes on my tongue and then something tingles and lingers on my tongue…I can only describe is as magic.

Like what I'd imagine eating something sprinkled with pixie dust would be like. I find it funny that even the food here is magic.

If I eat more of them, will my magic show? “It’s delicious.”

Zephen takes a sip from his silver cup. “I’m glad.”

I eat in silence, sometimes giving small pieces of the food to the bird who happily eats it off my hand. I’m not even sure if birdes can eat this; I’ve never had a pet bird before.

But Zephen doesn’t say anything, so I assume it’s fine.

“I think I should give it a name.” I say as we’re almost through dinner. “I feel bad just calling it ‘the bird.’”

“A name?” Zephen frowns, the concept seemingly foreign to him.

I cock my head at him, blinking. “Uh, yeah?”

“Animals don’t need names. They should not be tied down by one.” Zephen says, taking another sip from his cup, emptying the contents.

“It’s not like I’m tying it down.” I frown, glancing at the bird. “I just…want to make a connection, you know? Giving it a name will nurture affection.”

He sighs and leans back in his chair. “If you want to name it, go ahead. It’s not like there’s a rule against it, we just don’t usually do it.”

I think, glancing at the bird, my eyes sweeping over its beautiful dark feathers that glow under the light. “How about Ember? It’s more of a girls’ name though.”

At the sound of its new name, Ember chirps happily—well, what I assume is happy—and puffs out her feathers.

I giggle, scratching its neck. “So you’re a girl. Ember it is.”

My eyes trail back to Zephen, who looks tired, troubled; his eyes hazy like he’s somewhere far away. “Zephen? Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” He waves my worries off quickly, standing from his seat. “It is late. You should sleep.”

I haven’t realized the sun had long set. I wish I had a watch or a clock, but I doubt Faeries use such things.

I bid him goodnight, heading to my room, closing the door softly behind me. Ember circles my new room, finding a place to perch, landing on my headboard.

I head to the bathroom, preparing for bed.

The moon is my only source of illumination, since the Fay don’t have electricity and there are no candles lit in my room, but the moon provides more than enough light for me to maneuver around.

The moon here is bigger, brighter, closer. If I reached my hand out, maybe I could grab it right out of the night sky.

I take a while to stare up at the stars, wondering if dad is doing the same.

I wonder how he is.

Is he overworking himself again? Does he miss me too?

It’s only been a day, yet my heart aches and yearns to go home. Growing up, I’ve always been with him no matter the circumstances.

I’ve never been so far from home.

I feel so alone, like it’s just me against the world. I know I should feel safe and reassured by Zephen’s presence, but I don’t.

Like everything else in this world, he’s unfamiliar. He’s a Faery and unpredictable, and it scares me.

I shuffle onto my bed, snuggling into the warm sheets. My heart feels heavy, filled with anxiety and dread. I really want to go home.

The candlelight that seeps through the bottom of my door disappears, and all is quiet.