Zerena stands straight as a board, shock coursing through her from the Water Goddess's words. You are now my Champion, Zerena Walker. All she could do was stare at the powerful being before her, the form she had taken beginning to ripple - the first sign that she would not be able to stay here for much longer.

"I don't understand, Goddess." Zerena says, her voice breathless - as if the wind had been knocked from her lungs. "I am no one. I am a slave, a half-elf. There must be a mistake."

The Goddess raises a perfect brow, her head canting to the side. "I make no mistakes, Zerena. Even before you were born, your role in this world has always been absolute." Then Aqua winces, as if she had said too much. "Your journey will be long, the road to defeating the Darkness that lies ahead will be taxing - not just physically, but emotionally as well." Her voice is soft as a stream. Zerena is still motionless as her hand moves to brush a strand of hair that had fallen from her bun behind her ear, as if to soothe.

"You must succeed in the test the Prince has laid out for you, and you must agree to whatever terms come afterwards." Aqua says slowly, forcing Zerena to keep eye contact. "That is the only clue I am allowed to give."

"Why?" Zerena questions, though judging by the look the Goddess gives, she knew the woman could not answer.

"You must trust me. I have watched over you since the day you came into the world, and I will watch over you still." Her lips form a frown then, her ocean eyes growing somber. "I could not interfere or assist you on the Farm. The collar they placed prevented me from reaching you. But I am here now. In the ocean, in the rain, and in the rivers that flow throughout this continent. You are my Champion, and so everything I represent – you will as well, Zerena." Aqua begins to shimmer, her skin beginning to fade, but she lowers her hand now to grasp Zerena's, squeezing lightly.

"What do I do now? What am I supposed to do with this information?" Zerena shakes her head, an uncomfortable feeling squeezing her chest. It was dread, she realized. Dread of facing the unknown.

"For now, you tell no one." Aqua replies, her voice sharpening. "Wait until the Coronation, once they announce which one of you will be staying in the Palace for good. Everything will come to light. Have caution, Zerena. Those you think you can trust may seek to harm you." The Goddess lets out a soft sigh before giving one last warning. "Succeed in this test - the world depends on it."

And then the Goddess of Water fades away entirely, the water she had been using to keep her form dissolving into drops that rain gently down atop Zerena's head in a cool mist. Her mouth falls open as she stares at where the ethereal woman had been standing only inches away from herself. Her hand drifts to the teardrop pendant dangling between her collarbones, the silver and sapphire locket smooth between the pads of her fingertips. There was only one thought lingering in her mind over and over, as the water of the falls rage loudly behind her.

What the hell am I supposed to do now?

----------------------------------------

The hot, bubbly water relaxes Zerena's worn muscles as she slides deeper into the tub, her chin hovering just above the surface. Her eyes flicker to the amulet she had placed on the counter near the wash-basin. For something so small, it held so much significance in her life - even before she was born. She never imagined the family heirloom her mother had cherished so much to fall back into her care. She had assumed it to be lost forever after it had been ripped from her by the Slave Traders.

She closes her eyes, her encounter with the Water Goddess only an hour before still leaving her with that uncomfortably overwhelming sensation.

You have a role to play in all of this.

How could she possibly? A frail, weak half-elf as herself? This had to be some sick joke conjured up by the Fates themselves.

She inhales deeply, breathing in the scent of the lavender and vanilla soap she had lathered herself in, leaving her skin feeling silky smooth. Zerena would never tire of this - the feeling of being clean after years of being caked in grime and sweat.

Reluctantly, she finally pulls the plug, listening to the water as it drains into the pipes below. She stands, drying herself with a fluffy white towel as she exits the tub, her stomach growling. Leo would be expecting her at dinner, and then they would feed and put the palace horses back in their stalls. She couldn't afford to be late - not when he had so generously given her this time off.

The half-elf places the amulet around her neck, clasping the silver chain securely before moving back into her bed chambers. She pulls a simple peach blouse and brown trousers from the wardrobe, dressing quickly before stepping into the same boots as before. Glancing at her still wet hair in the mirror, an idea comes to mind. Smirking, she uses her magic to lift the remaining water from the strands, watching the droplets dissolve into thin air, as if they had never even existed at all.

She hastily brushes through the blue tresses, briefly wondering if the color had been a subtle sign of Aqua's blessings. Zerena had always assumed that she inherited her hair from her father's side, but now, she's not so sure. She quickly ties it into a messy bun, securing the strands with a thick ribbon as she steps out of her chambers and into the narrow passageway. She tucks her necklace beneath her blouse, knowing that it would cause too many questions if it were seen.

She's thankful that she remembers her way to the dining hall as she steps off the winding staircase. The palace is far larger than any building she is used to, she wonders how long it will take for her to adjust to the labyrinthine corridor. How long will it take for her to discover just how many rooms are built within? How many secrets does Zerena have yet to discover?

As she moves through the double doors, her eyes immediately scan the crowd in search of Leo. Zerena spots him, sitting at a large circular table with four other people - his friends, she gathers, from the way they laugh and drink easily amongst each other. Her lips purse, and she's wondering if she should find somewhere else to sit when the stable-boy calls out to her. Almost reluctantly does she walk towards his table, nodding a greeting towards his companions as she sits herself in the empty chair between Leo and a young-looking male. She feels all eyes on her, no doubt wondering who she was, and why their friend invited her to dine with them.

"I can sit somewhere else, it's alright." Zerena murmurs softly to Leo, who shakes his head and pours a liquid of deepest purple into the brass goblet in front of her. She brings it to her lips, subtly inhaling. Wine. Was she even allowed to drink it? She looks at Leo again, question in her eyes. He rolls his own, irises like amber with the setting sun.

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"Drink, Zerena. It's not poisoned." He huffs a laugh, glancing to each of his friends, who were still staring at them with dumbfounded expressions. The half-elf drinks, finding the sweetness of the wine to be a bit surprising. She half expected it to be bitter and burning, like the smell of the liquors her father indulged himself in when she was a child. This - she did not mind this drink one bit. "Friends, this is Zerena."

"And why has she come to be in your company?" The male at Zerena's left questions. Despite her nerves, she forces her gaze to him, taking in his carrot-red hair that curls to his equally orange eyebrows. She realizes with a shock that his ears are pointed, the peaks sticking out of his wild hair. His eyes are a paler green than the Prince's, the color of lily pads on a lake. They are not unkind as he watches her, however, merely curious.

"I am part of a contest." Zerena states casually, using the fork and knife to begin cutting the roasted bird placed in front of her, pheasant, she guesses. "If I win, I will officially be a maid of the palace." She says no more than that, placing the food in her mouth to give her an excuse not to speak.

"But we already have plenty of servants." A pretty young woman says from across the table, her brown hair framing her heart-shaped face as she sets down her goblet. Zerena notes that her skin has a slight pink tint to it, like the petals of a summer flower. There is glitter on her cheeks and her lips are painted lavender, to match the elegant powder on her eyelids. Her golden eyes are squinting suspiciously at Zerena, in a way that she doesn't quite like. "Why would we need more? Especially someone as . . . scrawny as her."

There's movement behind the girl's shoulders. Zerena forces her mouth to stay shut as she sees the butterfly wings, like that of a monarch's, fluttering softly.

A pixie, I've never seen a full-blooded one. Zerena averts her eyes, not enjoying the other woman's glare. She knows, she definitely knows that Zerena is not a full-blooded elf.

"I think the more help around here, the better." Leo interjects, reaching for a sweet roll from the platter in the center of the table. Zerena takes another bite of the savory pheasant, doing her best to ignore the way the wine makes her face feel heated. Or maybe it isn't just the wine. "Don't be rude, Cyrielle."

The woman named Cyrielle scoffs, but otherwise remains silent.

"Ignore her," The male to Zerena's left speaks up once again, a surprising kindness in his voice. "She gets jealous far too easily." He then extends a hand, the nails of his fingers forming sharp claws. "My name is Marcus Accosi - Marc, for short. You've met Cyrielle Lavigne already." He says with a grin, then nods to the other two figures: a broad shouldered older man with a shiny, brown scalp and another young man with short, white hair and vibrant red eyes. "The boulder over there is called Bronson Lager. The pretty boy is Carson Snow."

For a human, Leo seems to enjoy keeping the company of the Magical. Zerena has never met anyone like him before. Nor has she spent much time around fully blooded fae, elves, or pixies, let alone a group of them like this. The last encounter she had with one - well, this encounter was the result of that, she supposes.

"It's nice to meet you all." Zerena says after swallowing another bite of pheasant. She takes another sip of wine to wash it down, her head feeling slightly dizzy. This is her first true experience with alcohol and already after a few sips it's beginning to take effect. She only hopes Leo and his friends won't notice.

Thankfully, they don't speak to her for the rest of the meal. Zerena listens as they trade stories and talk about memories of their childhood, her chest tightening as she imagines, not for the first time, what it would have been like if she had been raised by a father who loved her. Her appetite dissolving suddenly, she pushes away her plate, wiping remnants of food from her lips with a silky cloth before rising. Leo gives a questioning look, his head tilting slightly.

"I'll meet you at the stables." She states, turning to head towards the exit before he could tell her to wait.

----------------------------------------

Zerena waits for Leo at the log fence outside of the barn, her arms resting against the wooden surface. Her eyes are drawn once again to the white stallion, the animal grazing peacefully near a bay mare. She didn't know why dining with him and his companions had struck a chord with her. They seemed friendly enough, aside from Cyrielle, who looked as if she wanted to gut Zerena from the inside out.

She was used to humans disliking her, the past eight years had made her grown accustomed to it - but the hatred from the other Fair Folk made her feel uncomfortable, like Zerena didn't even belong in her own skin. For humans, their dislike came from years of growing fear and false rumors of the half-breeds. For the full-fledged, it came from them thinking they were the superior race, as if Zerena and the other half-breeds were a stain on the map of the world. It had her curling her fists with rage.

Why couldn't they be treated like anyone else? Why did they have to be viewed as slaves?

Why, why, why?

"Zerena?" The deep baritone of Leo's voice jolts her back to reality. She turns, forcing a smile as she raises a hand in greeting. The stable-hand looks concerned, though she can't imagine why. She was a fool to think she could ever be a friend to anyone in this palace. All she would ever be viewed as is just another helping hand and entertainment.

The half-elf clasps her hands in front of her, waiting for Leo to begin telling her what to do. But he doesn't begin spouting commands for her, instead he gives a look of concern, his eyebrows furrowing.

"Are you all right?" He questions, stepping closer. She's finding this to be too much, too soon.

"Yes, why wouldn't I be?" She gestures to him. "I'm just awaiting your orders, sir."

"You don't have to do that." Leo sighs, his hand raising to brush his wild, raven hair from his eyes. "Not around me."

"I hardly know you." Zerena states, growing tired of this interaction already. She isn't sure how much longer she can keep being polite towards him. "I don't know what this test is - what I'm allowed to do, or to say. If all of this is just a ruse." Her arms sweep outwards as she nods to the castle. "If I speak out of line or do the wrong thing, I will be sent back to the life I had before." Zerena lowers her hands, her eyes like the ocean in a storm as she stares towards Leo. "You don't understand. Your position here is guaranteed, Leo. You have friends here who love you, whom you can trust to have your back, no doubt. I cannot trust you, it's just too dangerous for me."

Her voice lowers to just above a whisper, eyes casting downwards now. "The only person I have is Rosale. We will always be a slave to the kingdom, it does not matter if we live in the false luxury of a palace - or if we waste away at the Farmhouse. But what does matter is the safety of my friend, and that we stick together through this." Zerena can't risk being separated from the one person she truly cares about.

Leo's mouth is agape, as if he had never truly considered this. How could he? He's never known the pain of being controlled by the will of others. His work is voluntary, he could leave anytime he wants. He could tell Lady Zara that she didn't work nearly as hard as everyone else, even though it was he who had given her half of the day off in the first place.

Those you think you can trust may seek to harm you.

"Now if you don't mind." Zerena starts again, voice hardening to steel as she walks past him towards the stables. "I would like to feed the horses and put them to bed, so I can report back to the Head Mistress that my tasks have been completed."

The stable-boy clamps his mouth shut, keeping silent, as Zerena figured he would. Nobody wants to hear about reality - nor do they care. She's just disappointed in herself for even entertaining the possibility that he, or even the Royal Siblings, could be different.

"Wait," His fingers wrap around her wrist, halting her in her tracks. Zerena wrenches herself from his grip, her expression neutral as she meets his eyes - what could he possibly have to say now?

"You said earlier today that it was rude of me to judge you before I fully met you, but are you not doing the same thing to me?" Leo questions, closing the space between them. This close, Zerena is reminded of how much he towers over her. She has to raise her head to look up at him fully. Had it really only been this morning since their first meeting? This day seems to be dragging on forever. "You aren't giving me much of a chance either, Zerena."

"A chance to do what, Leo?" She questions softly, feeling her heart leap to her throat at his close proximity.

"To show you that I'm not like them, like whoever has treated you so poorly in the past. I don't care what your race is, if you're fully human or if there's elven blood running through your veins." He sounds so genuine, Zerena almost wants to believe him. "What matters is your character - what makes you, you. You don't have to be what others want you to be."

Zerena shakes her head, a sour laugh leaving her pink lips. "I don't have much of a choice, do I? I want to believe you, Leo. I want to believe that maybe there's still some good in this world." She closes her eyes, forcing herself to back away. "Just give me time." Again she turns, and this time when she makes her way to the stables, she picks up the sound of the stable-hand's footsteps falling only a pace behind hers.

Maybe that's what she needs. Time. After all, she's only been here for four days. The change of atmosphere is overwhelming. No longer were people yelling or cursing at her for existing. But it's what they didn't say aloud that worries her the most. Everyone here has hidden motives, she was learning.

Just what is Leo's motive? Why did he seem so interested in being her friend, when just this morning he didn't even want to look at her?

Those you think you can trust may seek to harm you.