Suddenly I was standing before four figures. My eyes darted around the space to get my bearings. It was annoyingly unhelpful. As far as the eye could see was an endless ocean of blinding white.

I looked back to the figures only to squint and cover my eyes in pain. Each of their faces emitted a light as powerful as the sun.

“Can you turn that shit down?”

A quartet of laughter was my answer.

I ignored them and moved on to my next option. “Callon! Callon what the hell did you do to me?!”

“Oh he's not here. Little Callon has nothing to do with any of this actually.”

I twitched at the irritating, condescending voice coming from the glowing peanut gallery.

“Obviously he has something to do with this. His drugged up chanting is what got me here.”

“Perhaps it was an ingredient. But you're only here because we wanted it.” 

For some reason I felt like I was being appraised.

The voices continued. “Fear not Flamewheel. You're on the right path. I look forward to meeting you properly in the new world as our pet.”

I did not like the sound of that. “Like hell!” I forced myself to look directly at their bright, sunny, creepy faces. But they weren't who I saw.

Callon stared back at me stunned from a chair at the foot of my bed. “Oh. You're finally awake.”

My eyes darted around the room. Dresser. Window. Beautiful view. Bed with canopy. The quiet calming sound of a babbling river outside.

I grasped at my chest and noticed the fabric of a beautiful white nightgown.

I snarled as I reached to the night stand and grabbed a gorgeous ornate glass bottle and smashed it against the wall creating a gorgeous ornate makeshift shiv.

I leapt across the incredibly soft bed and pinned Callon to the floor, shiv to the throat.

“HEY! Easy Archer you're perfectly safe!”

“Don't give me that crap. What did you do?! I felt angry and happy and horny all at once!”

“I told you. The gateway to my realm requires a key. When humans hear our tongue it has a certain effect on them but it's just temporary.” Callon smiled sheepishly and nervously looked down at my shiv.

“These clothes…are not the clothes I was wearing before.” I cocked my eyebrow. “Unbecoming of my future husband to sneak a peek while I was high as a kite on elven gibberish.”

Callon looked away red in the face. “Don't look at me. I didn't do it. Besides, it was absolutely necessary. A side effect of traveling through the gateway I'm afraid.”

“Side effect?”

“Humans evacuate themselves.”

“Evacuate…?”

“They piss and shit everywhere. Some more than others.” Callon looked back at me triumphantly. Transparently vindicated from our previous poo related conversation. “In your case, much more.”

Now my face was red. I rolled off of Callon and pulled the beautiful nightgown over my head like a turtle. 🐢

“AAAAAAGH I HATE THIS!”

“Archer.” I felt his slender, feminine fingers ghost over my shoulder, like a hover-hand. “I know you’ve had a long day, and a bit of a…messy introduction to the Faelands. But my world has so much beauty to offer, if you will only open your eyes to it.”

I peeked halfway out of my nightie to meet his fuchsia gaze, and lowered my shiv. 

“Will you let me show you?” He extended a hand.

As mortifying and annoying and non-sequitur as my day had been so far, something about that gaze arrested me, making my heart stutter in my chest. I slowly un-turtled myself and took his hand. He smiled, his many teeth gleaming in the gentle morning light. “I have a present for you.”

Well, that would certainly make me feel better. I wondered what kind of present it was, and how long I would have to wait for it. 

”But first…” he said, to my disappointment. He drew my hand up to his lips, and I felt an intense pain as my arm extended. In all of the excitement of frogs and cats and princes and mares I hadn’t even so far as mentioned how much my arm hurt because it was still broken from my brush with the cauldrons. As I looked into Callon’s eyes, I could swear that they began to glow. I saw his plush lips form an O and he blew gently over my skin. 

The air that touched my knuckles settled in a tingly frost that spread up to the shoulder, and I shivered as it seemed to sink into the scarce meat of my arm. The pain of the fracture melted into a minty coolness, and as he let my hand go, I carefully tested the arm. It felt…good. Better than ever.

”You…healed me?” I whispered.

”Just one of my many talents,” he purred. “And check it.” He turned my arm over.

On the inside of my forearm lay a mark, a mark that I was almost certain had never been there before. It snaked from wrist to elbow, fuschia whorls tracing over the delicate veins that housed my cursèd blood. It was like a trendy and vaguely botanical tattoo that my mom would never have let me get.

”Now you’re mine,” he growled quietly, his eyes flashing.

”What was that?” I said, distracted by the pretty colours.

”Nothing,” Callon smiled. “Are you ready for your present?”

I sprang off the bed. “Yes! I want it! Give it to me! Give it to me noooooooowwwww!”

Callon looked a bit put off by that. I made a mental note to try and keep my feelings locked and hidden inside.