Maybe starting at the beginning of it all would be too much. So, let us start the day the wizard known as October had his half-star daughter fall into his garden.

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October never thought he'd actually see her. But there she was. She had his lips, his brown eyes. She had five horns on her brow, peeking from under her white bangs. White hair, white skin, all slightly glowing, even in the middle of a late summer day, in contrast to his tanned skin and pure black feathered mane. And a tail, similar to a lion's. He deduced both the tail and the crown of horns were made of star dust.

And that umbrella. He remembered it, remembered how he had given it to the girl's mother. At least she'll have something of mine. That's what he had thought when he gave it. Who would have thought the umbrella would return? And with a twelve-year-old attached to it?

But there they were. She wore a dress that was woven out of the darkness of the night sky and gripped the blue umbrella with her slender fingers. She looked at him without much expression, sitting in the hole she had left upon impact in the middle of his garden like she was having a picnic.

Then she blurted it out: "Are you my dad?" it was said without much emotion.

From behind his corvid mask, October saw those big brown eyes and briefly felt like he was looking into a mirror twenty fours years ago.

"Yes," he finally answered, "I think I am."

An awkward pause. Silence clung to the air like humid mist. Then, October spoke again.

"Would you... em, like to come inside?"

"Okay."

He held his hand to the girl and helped her get back on her feet. She took it, staring at it the whole way as they walked inside.

October's home was a light gray stone tower, a gift from the Spring Fairy Queen after he had helped her heal her then lover. It stood in the middle of the garden where he cultivated food and ingredients for potions. It could also walk, if bribed with a good cleaning.

The first floor was lit by candles and a chandelier. High-quality furniture decorated the room, a thick woven rug in the center. A sweet smell wafted through the air, coming from a pie in the oven. He heard the kid sniffing the air.

"Do you want a slice? Maybe some tea?"

"Okay," this time it was said with a hint of emotion, a slight variation of the monotone she had spoken with before. October wasn't sure but he thought it could be joy.

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He took the girl to a table with a single chair.

"So, uh... how's your mother?" He asked. In truth, he didn't care much about her whereabouts. Their encounter was simply a way of obtaining something from each other. But now that he was staring at the undeniable reality of her being the mother of his daughter, he figured he should ask.

"Fine," the monotone had returned, "She told me you'd take care of me."

Once cut, the pie showed a golden interior as a result of having sunshine as one of its main ingredients. He remembered a distant voice telling him the sun was a star too. Yeah, right, he thought. October left a plate with the slice in front of the girl, and waited before speaking again: "What do you mean, take care of you?"

After swallowing a mouthful and smiling for the first time since she arrived, the girl explained: "Because you're my dad. You said so."

"But what about your mother?"

"She told me to not come back."

His knuckles went white for a second, gripping the teapot's handle before relaxing again, "Any reason as to why?"

"Because I annoy and embarrass her." It was said matter-of-factly.

October tried to ignore the familiar feeling twisting in his gut that the words had caused, "I see."

I don't know how to take care of a child. What am I suppose to do now? Like many times, a certain person came to mind, "Would you like to go for a walk...?" He then realized he had not asked the girl her name. Great start, October.

The girl completed the phrase by emitting a light chiming sound, what he guessed was her name, and a reminder that he didn't speak the tongue of the Void fairies.

"Sorry, I don't think I can pronounce that." He said.

"It means 'The Brightest Light In The Second Month.'" She explained.

"Second month? You mean February?"

"Is that how you call it down here?"

"How I used to call it, at least." He remembered that. Some things from his past home had stuck to his brain and still refused to let go.

"You can call me that if you want to." Said the girl. No, wait. February.

"Okay. February." The name rolled off his tongue and became a truth along the way, "Like I was saying, would you like to go for a walk to the dragon's den?"

"A dragon's den!" She said suddenly, "I like dragons!"

October smiled, "Me too. The local dragon is a friend of mine and I need to ask her some questions. I think you should come. What do you say?"

"Yes! Yes!" She rose from the chair, leaving half a slice of sunshine pie on the table and a barely touched cup of tea, and ran past him. She stopped herself just as she was about to open the door. Instead, she (im)patiently clasped her hands behind her back and looked expectantly at him. Not directly to his eyes, however.

Before joining her, he went and packed the cake in a little box. He cooked it for himself but well, Lerrelth was sure to focus more on his questions if she had her stomach full. He knew that from experience.

Walking to February's side, he grabbed the crow-head shaped knob when he thought of something. Silently, he offered his hand to her.

Still not looking him in the eye, the kid smiled a little again and took it. Her umbrella hadn't left her other hand in all that time.