Atworth’s first impression of the sprite village was that it was colorful.

After escaping from the drab greys of Vilotta’s castle, anything would seem colorful, but this village was painted in a myriad of mismatched hues. Each building was a different bright candy color and the streets were made up of lines of colors that twisted and swirled around each other like a flowing river. Even the plants were purple or blue or yellow with very few sporting the more typical green leaves and brown bark.

The sprites, too, seemed to prefer dressing in bright, mismatched clothing. They were short, around the size of human children, with delicate wings protruding from their backs. Just like everything else in this village, their skin and hair were a variety of bright colors. Atworth felt out of place in this cheery town in their half-starved, exhausted state. The whole atmosphere gave them a headache.

Riven, on the other hand, couldn’t seem to get enough of it. From her position in Atworth’s pocket, her head twisted this way and that as she squinted to see without her glasses, taking it all in with an excited grin on her face.

From a pair of sprites, Atworth got directions to the house of a glamour expert named Exuberance who could supposedly help them, and they soon found themself in front of a purple house near the center of town.

A tiny man answered Atworth's knock. “Oh, you poor thing,” he said. “Did you get yourself lost?”

“It’s a long story,” Atworth replied. “I’m looking for someone named Exuberance.”

The man nodded. “That would be me. Come in, please.”

Atworth had to duck to enter the small house, finding themself in a thankfully subdued and surprisingly modern living room, albeit a miniaturized one. At Exuberance’s beckoning, they took a seat on the only piece of furniture large enough to accommodate them, a couch which seemed to be designed for larger visitors, and sat Mu and Nu down on the floor to let them stretch their legs.

“Now then,” said Exuberance, standing before Atworth. His green hair and skin reminded them of Drake. “Do you need food? Water? A bed?”

“All of those,” Atworth replied. “But first, could you help my friend?”

They removed Riven from their pocket and held her in the palm of their hand for the sprite to examine.

Exuberance squinted at Riven, adjusting his glasses. “Oh, you poor thing. Someone’s been playing cruel tricks on you, haven’t they?”

Riven stared back, blankly. “You’re pretty.”

“May I?” Exuberance asked, holding out his hand.

Atworth narrowed their eyes. “What’s the cost?”

“You’re smart to ask that,” Exuberance replied. “But there is no cost. I help humans and orcs as a favor. You’re vulnerable in this world. And I don’t like the way some people treat you. So I try to help you where I can.”

Atworth carefully thought through what Exuberance had said, searching for a loophole for him to demand payment later.

“Fine,” Atworth said, finally.

Exuberance took Riven and gently set her on the floor, shooing away the ferrets when they came to investigate. Standing, Exuberance looked down at Riven appraisingly.

“Let’s see, you should have a clear head, free of any influence from a fairy. You also ought to be a bit taller.”

Atworth blinked. For a moment, Riven seemed to be very far away, as if the room were suddenly much larger than it had been before, or if Riven were beyond the room’s walls yet somehow still visible. Trying to clear their eyes, they blinked again and Riven stood before them at full height, still wearing the same mismatched clothes which, Atworth realized, fit nicely with the aesthetic of this village.

Riven swayed slightly on her feet, rubbing her eyes. “Is it over? I usually feel good when it’s over, but I feel kind of sick.”

Suddenly she fell to her hands and knees, retching. She heaved several times before she finally vomited up a bile-covered stone.

“Ah, that would be the cupcake she gave me,” Riven said quietly, staring down at the disgusting rock. “I noticed there was something odd about her smile, but I figured I wasn’t supposed to think about it, so I didn’t.”

“Riven, what the hell?” Atworth asked. The ferrets trotted over, sniffing curiously at the rock. “How long has that been inside you?”

“It was before I was put in the box. So at least a few months,” Riven replied.

“There’s no need to worry,” Exuberance said, kneeling down to clean up Riven’s vomit with a rag. “This kind of thing happens all the time. Fairies come up with all kinds of tricks to abuse their victims.”

Riven adjusted so that she was sitting on the floor. “Oh, she wasn’t abusive. I like this type of treatment. It’s kind of my thing.”

Atworth felt themself cringe. “Still, Riven, that’s going a little far, isn’t it?”

“No, not at all. I’m perfectly fine, see?” Riven replied with a grin. Atworth noticed something they’d missed when Riven was tiny.

“Are you missing a tooth?” they asked frantically.

Riven closed her lips, feeling the space with her tongue. “Oh that’s right. Don’t worry, it’s just a premolar. She wanted one for some reason, don’t ask me why.”

Atworth shuddered. How was Riven okay with this? “You gave her a tooth?”

Riven shrugged. “Well, not ‘gave,’ exactly. But she wanted one and I was perfectly happy to provide.”

“You were only happy with it because she made you happy with it.”

“Which is exactly what I’m into, so everything is okay,” Riven insisted.

“Listen, disorientation is normal after an experience like hers,” Exuberance explained. “Give her some time, her head will straighten out soon enough. For now, we should get you something to eat.”

Exuberance was, it turned out, quite adept at cooking what he described as “bland human-style dishes.” He quickly produced a variety of dishes and soon both Riven and Atworth had plates piled high with bread, vegetables and, in Riven’s case, meat. Exuberance even remembered the ferrets, offering them a variety of meats which they quickly gobbled up. For his own part, Exuberance only ate a bowl of honey, using a spoon as though it were soup.

Riven spoke little during dinner, mostly staring at her plate and offering monosyllabic answers to questions. So Atworth kept themself occupied by chatting with Exuberance about his work healing those tricked by fairies. After their meal, Exuberance led the pair to a small bedroom with two thankfully human-sized beds.

The next morning they were greeted with an equally-hearty breakfast. Once they had finished, Atworth asked if Exuberance could help them get back to their world.

“I’m afraid that’s one thing I can’t do,” Exuberance admitted. “Making doors is advanced magic. However, there’s a goblin who lives in the woods beyond the lake east of the village who is capable of making them. He has been willing to help other lost people in the past, for the right price.”

Atworth nodded glumly. At least it was a lead.

“And speaking of payments,” Exuberance added. “There is the matter of your payment to me.”

“You said you were helping us for free,” Atworth objected.

Exuberance laughed. “Relax, relax. It’s just a little joke. I really ought to stop telling that one. It’s a bit mean.”

Atworth finished packing, tucked the ferrets into their pockets, said goodbye to Exuberance, and stepped out of the house with Riven in tow. Once they were outside, Riven looked around at the garish colors and sighed happily.

“I’m here. I’m really here.”

The way she said it seemed forced to Atworth, even insincere. As if Riven was desperately trying to convince herself that she was happy. Atworth contemplated this as the pair made their way through the village, soon finding the lake.

Nearly every inch of water in the lake was covered by lily pads which bobbed in the waves. It reminded Atworth of watching a small animal under a sheet. The animal would form a lump which would move of its own accord. Only here it was multiplied a thousand times, creating a chaotic mess of lumps moving about under the lily pads. Occasionally, a small amount of water would find its way on top of one of the pads and dance and writhe like a drop of mercury before finding its way to the edge and rejoining the lake.

“Why did you come to this world?” Riven asked as they began their trek around the lake, heading towards the forest on the other side.

“I’m trying to convince the fairies to join the war,” Atworth explained.

Riven’s eyes widened. “Why would you do that?”

Atworth stared at Riven. Wasn’t it obvious? “To give us more allies. So we can win the war sooner.”

“But...that won’t...Andra’s whole plan…” Riven sputtered. She took a deep breath to compose herself. “Why would you agree to do something like this? I thought you hated violence.”

“I do,” Atworth replied. “This plan will end the war sooner and that will mean fewer deaths.”

“But it’ll mean involving a bunch of innocent people who have nothing to do with any of this,” Riven protested.

“Innocent? Vilotta left you in a box.” Atworth shook their head. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. No one would join, and I have to take you back to Rampart City.”

“Oh, I’m not going back,” Riven said, matter-of-factly.

“Riven, I know you have your quirks, but this place is dangerous.”

“For other people maybe, but this is where I fit. I was here for a while when I was a kid, you know? And I never felt happier. I never felt more right. I’ve wanted to come back ever since.” Once again, Riven’s enthusiasm sounded performed. As if she was trying to convince herself as much as Atworth.

“This world doesn’t even make sense. Look, the trees aren’t even getting closer.”

It was true that the pair hadn’t walked far, but the lake wasn’t huge. By now they should have made visible progress, but the trees were still opposite them.

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Riven paused and looked out across the lake. “Even if it doesn’t make sense to you, can’t you just accept that it makes me happy?”

“Oh, so having your teeth stolen makes you happy?” Atworth asked.

Riven spun to face Atworth, eyes full of fury. “You just don’t get it,” she shouted. “I belong here! I really do!”

She turned again and hopped out onto the lake, landing nimbly on a lily pad. She stood there, bobbing on the water and grinned at Atworth.

“Everyone’s different, that’s what you don’t understand,” she said, dancing across the lily pads, getting further from Atworth. Atworth tentatively placed a foot on a lily pad and found that it remained afloat. They carefully stepped onto it, then onto another, following Riven.

“I’m the opposite of my brother. He’s from this world and belongs in that one. I’m from that world and belong in this one.” She was skipping now, seemingly unconcerned about where her feet landed.

“So I had a bad experience. So I lost a little bit of myself. So what? People get their teeth knocked out in our world all the time. There’s still a whole world of experiences out there. And I…” She reached the other end of the lake, then turned on her heel to once again grin at Atworth. “...know how to survive it.”

Atworth caught up to Riven, breathing heavily from the exertion and from the fear of one of the lily pads collapsing under them. “Then why did you almost die?”

Riven stared at Atworth, her grin slowly fading.

“If I hadn’t come, you were going to keep waiting there, and I may not know everything about how this world works, but I don’t think you would have lasted forever,” Atworth continued.

“No...I would have gotten out…” Riven murmerred.

Atworth ignored her. They were beginning to grow tired of Riven’s immaturity. “No one has heard from you in a year. Did you mean to just abandon your friends and family?”

“I guess I was a little wrapped up in things,” Riven said with an uncomfortable chuckle. “I had planned to contact my mom, but Vilotta didn’t even let me think about that.”

“Riven, I think you were abused.”

Riven crouched down on the ground, wrapping her arms around her legs. “But I’m supposed to like being controlled. I mean, I always have in the past.”

Atworth looked down at Riven and desperately tried to think of what people do to comfort each other. Was hugging okay? Or would contact be unwelcome? Was it weird to ask? Eventually they decided to ask, anyway. “Would you like a hug?”

Riven nodded silently, without looking up. Atworth knelt beside her and wrapped their arms around her. At first, Riven just leaned into the hug, but after a moment, she wrapped her arms around Atworth in return. “I wish she hadn’t taken my tooth.”

“She shouldn’t have done that,” Atworth replied. “She probably shouldn’t have done anything to you without asking what you were okay with.”

Riven sniffed. “That’s not really how it goes. Usually I let myself get captured by some evil sorceress or something and either my fellow adventurers defeat her and free me or she makes me do her chores for a while until she gets bored and kicks me out of her lair.”

Should they stroke her hair? That seemed like the kind of thing people did to comfort each other. Atworth tentatively stroked Riven’s and continued when she didn’t object. They could feel Mu leaning out of their pocket to sniff Riven.

“Well, haven’t you ever tried just...dating someone?” they asked.

“Mind control is illegal,” Riven replied. “I wouldn’t want to put anyone at risk.”

“But there are things you want other than mind control, aren’t there?”

Riven broke the hug, leaning back into a sitting position. Atworth could see tears in her eyes. “Yeah, I guess. Laying under a tree in the park and cuddling. Or taking turns making dinner for each other. Or just sitting together, reading or something, each comforted by the other’s presence. I’d like stuff like that. But people don’t want to spend a lot of time around someone like me. I’m too weird.”

For a moment, Atworth thought they had misheard. Riven had always seemed completely self-assured. Almost as much as Andra. Hearing that she doubted herself this much felt wrong. It was as if Riven had suddenly tried to deny the sun’s existence.

Atworth shifted positions slightly, getting comfortable on the rough dirt. “Lots of people like spending time around you. Your old teammates certainly did. I remember hearing the group of you laughing in the common area a lot.”

Riven shrugged. “I guess, but it’s not like any of them would want to date me. Especially not Fiona.”

Atworth blinked. “Why especially not her?”

Riven was silent.

“Do you have a crush on Fiona?”

Riven looked down at the ground. “Kind of.”

Atworth smiled. “Well, then why don’t you ask her out? She’s certainly not bothered by your eccentricities.”

Riven continued to stare at the ground. “There’s an age difference,” she said as if she were confessing to a terrible crime.

It couldn’t be that big of a difference. “How old are you?”

“Thirty-two. Well, I guess thirty-three now.”

“Really? I thought you were in your early twenties.”

Riven shrugged. “Everyone says that.”

Atworth stared at Riven. She wasn’t wearing makeup, but maybe her enchantment kept her looking young? On the other hand, Atworth tried to imagine what a thirty-three year old should look like and found that they didn’t have a specific appearance in mind. It was as if when they thought of aging, they had always imagined people jumping from their twenties to their forties.

“Well, how old is Fiona?” they asked.

“Younger,” Riven answered reluctantly.

“Wait, she isn’t a kid, is she?” Maxine had once mentioned that Fiona was a shapeshifter.

“No,” Riven said sharply, suddenly indignant. “She’s an adult. But there’s still a big age difference.”

“Well, so what?” Atworth asked. “You’re both adults and it’s not like there’s any sort of power imbalance between you.”

“I guess not,” Riven admitted, back to being bashful.

“So don’t let that stop you from asking her out.”

“I guess,” Riven repeated. That was probably the best Atworth was going to get.

They stood, took a deep breath and let it out. “Shall we find that goblin and get back to our world?”

Riven stood, as well. “I’ll help you find the goblin, but I’m serious about not going back.”

Atworth stared at Riven. After everything, she still wanted to stay? “Listen, I think you’re letting your fantasies blind you toward—” Riven held up a hand.

“It’s not that. It’s the war.”

“You’re afraid of dying?” With the way Riven threw herself into danger, that seemed impossible, and Atworth was not surprised when Riven shook her head.

“I’m afraid of killing. It’s one thing when you’re an adventurer and you’re putting a stop to assassins or necromancers, but it’s completely different when it’s part of a war. If you go to war with an evil king, you’re not actually fighting the king, you’re fighting his subjects, most of whom are probably perfectly innocent people. I don’t want to kill innocent people.”

Atworth thought about that for a moment. Riven had a point. After all they, too, had been reluctant to fight in the war. “But Andra wouldn’t have sent you to the southern continent.”

“I know,” Riven continued, “but she still wanted me to be one of her advisors. She has a whole plan to kill the Demon King while preventing the Edhru Prophecy from coming to pass, but we’d still be deciding who lives and who dies. I’m just not comfortable with that.”

“Surely minimizing deaths is the most important thing, isn’t it?” Atworth asked.

“Maybe. I’m sure that’s what Andra believes, but Maxine—” Riven froze suddenly. “Er, that is, Maxim—”

“Don’t worry, I know about Maxine,” Atworth interjected.

Riven sighed with relief. “Oh, thank goodness. I was afraid I’d outed her for a second. I mean, she’s the worst, but that wouldn’t have been okay. Anyway, she told me about this thought puzzle once. It imagines that the human liver produces a chemical that can be distilled into a miracle potion. This potion is more powerful than the best healing potions, and can bring someone back from the brink of death. Not only that, but it can cure almost any disease, no matter how life-threatening. Only problem is that it has to be taken from a freshly dead, healthy person. And the potion doesn’t have a long shelf life, so it’s not the most practical thing to keep around.”

“Okay, I think I understand,” Atworth said.

“Anyway, in this scenario you’re an alchemist working at some isolated outpost in the middle of winter. You have ten patients, and they’re all in terrible shape, about to die. The only way to save them would be this miracle potion. But you also have an assistant, a perfectly healthy young man. You also have an array of poisons that could easily and painlessly kill him without damaging the chemical you need. If you killed him, no one would ever know. That’s what war is like, I think.”

Atworth shrugged. “That’s just a thought experiment. Real life situations aren’t that contrived.”

Riven’s stare was direct and unsettling. “Aren’t they? What about you? You’re making a decision to involve a bunch of people who have nothing to do with the war. To get them killed because you think it will save more lives total.”

Atworth shook their head. “That’s not the same. If the Demon King takes over the northern continent, the Fae Realms will be next.”

Riven grinned in a way that suggested that Atworth had fallen into a trap. “In that case, instead of going back to Rampart City, why don’t we tell the goblin that we live on the southern continent? Maybe right where the Demon King’s army is currently located? Ooh, or even the Demon King’s castle.”

Atworth felt a sickening feeling in their stomach at Riven’s suggestion. Goading demons into invading the Fae Realms would force the fairies to join the war, achieving Atworth’s goal. A lot of people would die in the initial invasion, but ultimately it would mean fewer deaths.

“I think I’ve made my point. Now then, shall we?” Riven said, stepping into the woods.

Atworth was able to get directions from a local bird, and the pair made their way through a surprisingly mundane forest. Everything around them felt familiar and comfortable. The beams of sunlight making their way through the trees, the sound of crickets, the smell of grass and dirt, everything was just like in the woods in their world. Atworth wondered if these woods were situated closer to the mortal world than most of the Fae Realms. Perhaps this was one of the places where people who accidentally stumbled into this world ended up.

As they walked, Atworth quietly considered Riven’s words. They knew she wasn’t serious about her suggestion, it was obviously an evil action she had presented to prove a point, but at the same time, wasn’t it worth considering? They weren’t sure if they could live with themself, knowing that they had deliberately gotten people killed just to get the fairies to join the war, but could they live with themself knowing that they could have saved countless other lives and declined to do so? It seemed as if either choice only led to crushing guilt.

Eventually, the trees broke, revealing a stone cottage with a vegetable garden out front and, working in the garden, a small goblin wearing a wide-brimmed hat. She looked up at the pair as they approached.

“A couple more lost humans. I imagine you’ll be wanting me to help you get back home?” she asked.

“Yes! Deal! We’ll take the deal!” Riven said, full of excitement.

It took a moment for Atworth to process what she was saying. Then they noticed the goblin’s big eyes, thick black hair, and flowing sundress. Of course, Riven found her attractive.

“No, we are not taking any deal. That is still something to be discussed,” they said hastily.

The goblin looked back and forth between the two of them. “Okay, I’m confused. What’s happening here?”

“She’s trying to trick you into mind controlling her,” Atworth explained.

“You’ll make us a door back to the mortal world in exchange for something, right?” Riven asked.

“Yes, for payment all I need is—”

“We accept!” Riven interrupted.

“No we don’t!” Atworth shouted. “Seriously, how do your friends get anything done with you around?”

“Are you actors?” asked the confused goblin. “Is this what human comedy looks like? Because I don’t get it. Maybe it’s specific to your culture?”

Atworth grabbed Riven around the shoulders with one arm and attempted to cover her mouth with their free hand, but she pulled away. “We’re not actors,” they said as the pair struggled.

“We’re just willing to pay whatever it costs to get back home,” Riven said between grunts as she held off Atworth. “Even if it means that one of us has to stay and work as your maid.”

“I mean, I usually just take cash,” said the goblin. The pair froze. Riven made a disappointed whimper.

“How much?” Atworth asked.

“Usually one gold piece, but that’s negotiable based on what you can afford.”

Atworth nodded. “That’s manageable. As long as you don’t mind following me to the bank.”

“Of course,” the goblin said with a smile. “Now, where do the two of you live?”

Atworth didn’t have to hesitate. “Rampart City.”

“Easy enough,” said the goblin. She led the pair over to a slightly lopsided oak tree next to her house.

“You were right,” Atworth said to Riven. “What I’ve been doing is wrong. I’m going to tell Andra that I can’t be her negotiator anymore.”

Riven smiled softly. “You’re a tenderheart, Atworth. Some people see that as a bad thing, but I think it’s good that people like you can exist.”

“The alchemist in the puzzle shouldn’t kill their assistant. I think when you’re faced with a question like that, you need to consider the type of world you want to create. I want to create one where I can be a tenderheart, I suppose.”

At the goblin’s touch, the tree’s trunk shifted to make room for a wooden door with an ornate frame. The goblin opened it to reveal the familiar streets of Rampart City.

“That’s a good point, actually,” Riven said. “You have to think about the type of world you want to create.”

Suddenly she held up a hand to Atworth’s face and whispered an incantation. There was a brief flash of pink.

“What did you just do?” Atworth asked, their skin suddenly crawling with anxiety.

“Just a minor charm spell, to ensure you won’t betray me,” Riven explained. “Because I’m going to help the demons win the war.”

“Why would you do that?” Atworth asked. Their heart was pounding now.

“Because the type of world I want to create,” Riven said with a cheerful smile, “is one where I can be the mind controlled servant of a sexy demon noblewoman.”