I avoided the kitchens if I could help it but the gnawing in my stomach reminded me that if I was hungry, then the others probably were too.

It always felt like the kitchen itself was a furnace blasted at full heat though, it didn't seem to bother the pixies. In fact, I think they loved the near scorching temperatures as they whisked, rolled, and baked all manner of food and treats. Unfortunately for me, it was near unbearable. If I stayed long enough, I was sure I'd end up roasted well done. I could already feel my robes sticking to my back, beads of sweat forming at my hairline.

Pixies were classed as common folk - fair skin, pointed ears, and a flawless complexion all around just like any Fae however, the key difference between the pixies and the Si that were ranked above them was the difference in magic.

Si had combative magic, the type particular to the Sept that they belonged to. I knew Auberon belonged to the Malleare Sept. They were raucous brawlers, front-liners that exerted their will on the enemy in a fantastic show of brute force. The Master belonged to the Sicarius Sept. He'd remarked off-handedly once that it, quite literally, meant assassin. They were a quiet and secretive bunch, their intelligence unmatched, their magic unparalleled. It certainly suited the Master who seemed to think of schemes within his schemes, puzzles within his plots.

By contrast, the common folk had utility magic. Pixies had an affinity for the hearth and house while Sprites put their magic to good use as either messengers or spies, the former a badge of honor, the latter a mark of prey. After all, knowledge was power and death was swift to any Sprite that was caught brokering information to the enemy.

Eyes of onyx flashed through my mind and I paused. If I had to guess from the nature of Aeon's magic, he was likely in the Sicarius Sept as well.

I reached for a small basket, filled to the brim with various types of bread, imperfect and oddly-shaped. A hand grabbed my wrist and I winced, recognizing the red-tinged hand.

"Back again, human?"

I stilled before lowering my head further. "Hello, Mara."

I had only glimpsed her face once, years ago. She'd been distracted and I'd just so happened to see her as I passed the entrance. Her skin always seemed to take on the hues of a striking sunset - likely the result of her magic as she worked the large brick oven. Her head was clean-shaven, the glow of the roaring fire cast shadows on her sharp and angled features. She was quite the beauty.

She was quite the menace.

"You frequent my kitchens so often that I wonder if I should make a pet of you," she cooed, her grip tightening. I was sure it would break if she increased the pressure any more.

I stayed silent, hoping that was the limit of our interaction.

"Do you really need so much food?"

If I said nothing, she would go away.

"How boring," she sighed.

If I said nothing, she would-

I cried out as a loud snap resounded in the kitchens. My knees buckled but she did not let go.

"Squeak goes the mouse," she said, earning a bout of laughter from the other pixies. "Take the basket, human. This is as much fun as I'm allowed to have with you anyways."

She released my hand, returning to her station near the oven and I collapsed, cradling my broken wrist. I gasped, shuddering at the blinding agony as I forced myself up. I blinked the tears away as I grabbed the basket. If I was going to suffer a broken wrist for food then I'd be damned if I left it behind.

I staggered forward, leaning against the wall as I pushed through the pain. I needed to bind it first. I slid to the floor, arm tucked against my chest as I bit the hem of my skirt and tore a long strip. It had already started to swell, blisters clustered in a band where Mara had made contact. I grunted, using my teeth as an anchor for one end while I wrapped the injury. I hissed as I tied the ends together.

My vision swam and I attempted to regulate my breathing. I was no stranger to pain but even I had my limits. I could think just fine through bruises. I could work quite well through lacerations. It was difficult to do either with broken bones.

I couldn't tell how much time had passed but I knew I had to move. The Master would never accept a broken wrist as an appropriate excuse to wile the time away.

I inhaled, using the wall to haul myself upright. It was just another day, I reminded myself.

Sky greeted me first as I entered the library. He seemed to be nearby these days anytime I had a reason to come. He opened his arms and I crouched down, placing the basket on the ground as I handed him a misshapen loaf.

He frowned, shaking his head before giving it back. He stooped low and wrapped his arms around the base, heaving the mound of food with an effort that I couldn't help but admire.

I laughed despite the pain, hiding my bandaged wrist behind me. I used my other hand to stop him, placing it on his shoulder as I shook my head. "I can carry it. It must be heavy."

He skewed his face in determination and pivoted, shrugging my hand away. I followed a step behind. We walked through the aisles towards a corner opposite of Fraxus's loft. Mouse and the nameless woman sat at a rickety table. He looked expectantly at the food. She looked pointedly at my wrist.

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I helped Sky push the basket onto the surface, ignoring her stare.

"You're late." It was not an accusation. Merely a statement of fact.

I handed her a roll. One side had been charred but it was mostly edible. "This was all they had." I felt a tug on my skirt as I handed Mouse the misshapen loaf. I looked down as Sky held up a sourdough.

I shook my head. "I'm not hungry." Whatever hunger that had gnawed at my stomach had been replaced with the nausea of excruciating pain.

Mouse finally noticed the makeshift wrap that peeked out of my skirts. He looked away, fidgeting with what remained of his food.

Sky contemplated the bread that I'd refused. I'd meant to reassure him, to tell him that he was free to eat as much as he wanted but the world shifted, my vision tunneled, and I managed to mutter an excuse before I stumbled hurriedly away.

I couldn't quite see where I was going as I made my way gingerly through the labyrinth of books but it didn't matter. I just needed to be alone.

A sob wracked my body as I stopped, collapsing into one of the shelves. I clutched my forearm just above the knot I'd tied and I finally released the tears I'd been holding back.

Because more than the brutal agony, I felt suffocated, trapped in a world that required me to swallow the screams that clamored to be released in the face of the injustice I was expected to tolerate. I gnashed my teeth. I silenced my cries. I endured my anger.

I was drowning...

... and drowning...

... and drowning...

... and all I could do was smile as I floated deeper into the depths of my resentment.

~

I woke up to a whimper.

Sky had been shaking me - gently, delicately - his eyes panicked, his face stricken.

Another whimper.

"I'm sorry," I croaked, reaching out with one arm to wipe his tears as I hid the other. He clutched my hand, running his thumbs over the scar.

"Happy," he murmured and I froze. This was the first time I'd heard him speak. His voice was a soft tremor that barely reached my ears.

"What?" I felt breathless. A brief exchange of the simplest words.

"Happy," he asserted, pressing into my hand meaningfully.

I thought back to the conversation we'd had. "Your happy place?" I asked, confused.

He nodded.

I furrowed my brows.

He pressed again.

It suddenly dawned- "Me?" I choked out. "You mean, me?"

His lip quivered as he nodded his confirmation.

We sat there, a quiet moment filled with a dangerous revelation and my wrist - an inflamed reminder of my helplessness - no longer hurt.

~

The days that lead up to the Harvest Festival teemed with excitement. It was one of the biggest celebrations that rivaled the Spring Equinox. It was an excuse to indulge in your deepest desires to gluttonous heights.

I considered it a day of absolute freedom. The Master was required to make an appearance at the gathering that would, this year, be hosted by the Praetorian Sept.

The Master had once remarked that they were an obsolete faction, their purpose aimless as those who were chosen from their ranks had once served as the Aedic King's royal guard. They boasted a broad range of defenses including shields that could not be breached by magic nor might. Once at the peak of power, they were now the lowest of the Septs, scrounging for the smallest bit of political capitol they could get their hands on.

The Aedic Commander aside, the grounds would be empty of any Fae. It was eagerly anticipated by all.

It was a chaotic morning when the day of the Harvest Festival dawned but I much preferred it that way. Too many things needed doing before fun could be had and it brought less attention to my comings and goings.

The Master had already departed the day prior. He hadn't given a reason. I hadn't dared to ask.

As the day progressed, it grew quieter and quieter. The sun's steady descent towards the horizon brought with it a welcome silence that slowly blanketed the grounds.

Mouse and I were at the fire pits, a sandy enclosure located just north of the gazebo where it provided a stellar view of the sunset. There were four stone pits, each one large enough to fit several men up to their waist. With so many things being discarded or trashed, it had taken both of us nearly all day to incinerate the piles of waste that had been hoisted upon us. Even more so since my wrist still couldn't bear weight even though it had regained a limited range of motion.

I flexed my fingers at the thought, grimacing as my wrist protested the movement.

"It looks better," Mouse said.

"It is," I responded.

There was a moment of silence, awkward as we never really had much reason - or opportunity - to speak.

Mouse cleared his throat. "I'd been meaning to give you my earnest thanks but it never seemed to be the right time." He looked at me sheepishly. "Well, I guess there's really no 'right time' to give thanks. My mama used to tell me that the right time to mind my manners was yesterday and she was right- My mama, I mean."

I waited, eyeing him curiously.

He scratched his head. "I wanted to thank you because Fraxus - that big fella in the library. He said you take care of us. The food, the clothes, the... everything. Everything. You're nicer than you look is all I'm saying and I'm thanking you for it. And for everything."

Barring the shock of Fraxus stooping to converse with humans, I felt a touch of discomfort. It was true that easing the transition of humans into whatever life they bargained for wasn't part of my job but I hardly did it because I was nice.

I only did it to reduce the weight they added to my conscience when something went wrong and it always went wrong. It just hadn't happened yet.

"You're welcome," I said, despite myself.

Mouse beamed. "I can breathe a bit easier knowing those fair folk won't be here for the night. What do you do when they're gone?"

The sun had long set. The fading light marked the canopy of the Elder Tree beautifully, an endless web of leaves and branches interwoven in the sky.

"I stare at the sky," I responded. "At the world above. The Enyels are said to have wings, did you know?" The sky grew darker as we both took in the territory of the Fae that lived in the heavens. "I wonder sometimes, what it would be like," I paused and shook my head, tearing my gaze away to dump the last of the trash into the fire. "Anyway, I can finish up here. You can go."

Mouse nodded but didn't move, eyes still fixed on the sky. It was only when the moon had started its trek above that he'd nodded his farewell and left me to my own thoughts.

I sat down, enjoying the warmth of the dying embers that emanated from the stone pit when I heard a rumble. I splayed my hand on the ground, unease making me turn to see where it was coming from.

Movement caught my eyes as the coal started to roll counterclockwise, sparks flying as they slammed aggressively against each other. The sand shifted beneath me as it gathered in the pit, providing the mortar for the coal as it stacked, one atop the other, to form some semblance of a large, stocky man.

Except it wasn't a man. It was a golem. And the unease that had built itself to my heart had plummeted into the pits of my stomach, a pool of dread now settled like lead.

It took a hulking step forward, scattering the walls of the stone pit it had come out of. It crackled as it moved, like the sound of a hundred snapping branches. It glowed ominously as it lumbered clumsily down to one knee in front of me and I screamed. It did nothing to indicate that it had heard my alarm. It opened its mouth, reached in, and extracted an intricate copper key before bowing its head, offering the key in its open palm.

I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe.

Damn the Fae, damn their games, and damn the Elder Tree.

I cursed so much that a part of me hoped that the golem would sink into the earth and take with it that key - that wretched key that sealed my fate as a competitor in the Trials of Fire.