Merlyn climbs onto the stage, joining the flock of children excitedly waiting for the music to start again. She looks around with big eyes, a little intimidated by all the sound and color now that she's up here. Suddenly, someone kneels before her.

“Hello,” Kora whispers. Her voice carries an unfamiliar tone of maturity, somehow. “It's your first spring, isn’t it Merlyn?”

Merlyn nods as she sucks on her claw, barely comprehending. All she knows is her friend is speaking to her softly.

Kora holds out her hand in offering. “I'll help you, my little fledgling. Don’t worry.”

Merlyn takes the hand and allows herself to be led to a bright red ribbon. She takes it into her claw, observing the color intensely. It’s the color of her father’s eyes.

Suddenly, a jubilant melody fills the air. Merlyn squeals excitedly as Kora leads her in the dance. They skip around the maypole, the ribbons weaving together as the children laugh. It starts out slow, following the pace of the music, but as the hurdy gurdy speeds up so do the children.

As the children prance around it, they cover more and more of the maypole with the pattern. However, before it can be completed, screams erupt from the crowd. Someone is pushing through the gathered humans and monsters, slithering onto the stage with dark serpentine coils that gleam in the sun.

“Eben, where is she!?”

“There, she’s on stage, Adder—”

Adder’s heart is in his throat, uncomprehending of Eben’s words any longer. She’s on stage? With everyone watching her? What if the illusion is dispelled? How would the villagers react to a harpy amongst their young?

“I’m going to get her.“

“Adder, wait, she looks okay. Kora is with her.”

“I cannot leave her up there alone.”

“Adder, just stay calm. We can get her after the dance is over.”

Adder starts forward, pushing through the crowd. “I can’t risk that!”

“Adder, stop—”

The cacophony of music and cheering swallows up Eben’s pleas. Adder, initially attempting to weave through the bustling crowd with patience, finds the fear gripping him tighter and tighter as the song’s tempo grows in tempo. He can’t see Merlyn, and his mind is conjuring a variety of horrifying images in his mind. What if the other children knock her to the ground and hurt her? What if she gets upset and hurts them? What if she does something not even Eben can reverse?

With a burst of urgent energy, he surges forward, uncaring of the humans and monsters around him. His tail slaps several people away, and they fall to the ground. It takes a moment for the crowd to realize that the serpent is among them—the first startled yelps are buried below the fanfare. But as Adder approaches the stage, fear consumes the villagers. Several people scream out in fear as the glamor is lifted, with some fleeing, some covering their eyes, some staring in shock, and some…reaching for weapons. Adder ignores it all, only intent on finding Merlyn now. As he climbs onto the platform, he hears her cry out in her strange, trilling, voice.

“Merlyn!”

He scoops her into his arms, hugging her to his chest tightly. There’s a moment of bliss where he just exhales, letting the fear drip away now that she’s safe in her arms.

“Let the child go, monster!” someone screams from the crowd.

Adder startles, realizing where he is. He holds Merlyn more secure to his chest. “No—I’m sorry—she’s my—”

“He’s taking a child! Someone stop him!” Another voice screams.

“Maybe she’s a monster,” someone murmurs, “maybe he’s protecting us?”

“She’s a little girl! He’s going to kill her!” a man growls.

Adder is breathing fast now. He’s unable to get the words he needs to out, his tongue frozen as his heart races. Luckily, just then, Eben steps onto the stage as he dispels the glamors with a flourish of golden light. The crowd gasps in awe of the half-elf as he stands before them, eyes bright with magic.

“We apologize for the disturbance. This is Merlyn—this is the child we have been caring for. We have come to show her the light of Giakora’s love by celebrating Koranalia with you all. We mean you no harm…”

‘How dare you!” a burly man screams, “we belong to the goddess on this holy day! You are not welcome here, monsters!”

Suddenly, the young dryad next to him turns to him with green eyes aglow. “Bite your tongue, heathen! Do not presume to speak for the Goddess!”

“How can he be welcome here? He is an agent of death! He is an agent of The Great Deceiver!”

“Monsters belong here too!” A familiar voice rings out—Adder recognizes it as Basil, the felid.

“Don’t pretend we don’t know what you did, cat!”

Basil shrinks back, ears pinned to his head. “I didn’t—none of us wanted to do what Sheppard commanded!”

“You lie! You have bound a human as your slave under the orders of the elf! He has taken Sheppard’s place!”

“That's enough!” Eben roars, “Sheppard is dead because of me, because of Adder!”

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Adder puts a hand on Eben’s shoulder, intent on pulling him back so they can flee. Merlyn is whimpering in his arms, and it’s clear they’ve overstayed their welcome. However, before they have a chance, something solid crashes into Adder’s temple. A sharp pain blossoms behind his eyes as he falls to the ground, grunting in pain. A large, heavy stone has been launched directly at his head and with it rains down a hail of fury. As the blows keep coming, the crowd erupts into a roar of raging voices. Adder curls around Merlyn protectively, ignoring the blood trickling down his face as Eben shields them both with his magic.

Daring a glance, Adder turns around to look at Merlyn. His eyes find her face pale, eyes wide as a droplet of red falls on her face. Her eyes dart away from Adder as Eben suddenly yells out a new command to the crowd.

“Cease this madness now! This is no human child, this is—”

Suddenly, a horrible sound rings out in the air; a sharp, ear-piercing scream emanating from none other than Merlyn. She’s vibrating with rage much too strong for such a little body, lips curling back to reveal sharp, pointed teeth. Over half the crowd stares in shock while several others fall to the ground clutching their heads. Adder tenses as he scents blood in the air—the earth-shattering scream is making the humans writhe in pain as red trickles from their eyes, ears, and even their mouths.

“Merlyn! Stop!” Adder begs.

Merlyn’s savage song cuts short. She whimpers, burying her face against Adder’s chest. The humans sag with relief, gasping for air like they had just been strangled. Deathly quiet overcomes the crowd as everyone tries to piece together what just happened. The monsters of the village dart their eyes around nervously while some humans openly stare at Merlyn. Some cough and spit up blood, while others still grip stones in their hands with white knuckles.

Suddenly, though, the crowd parts as someone new arrives; Helia.

She’s in her ceremonial Koranalia garb, dressed to the nines in layers of colorful green and pink embroidered silk cloths. A long train of fabric trails behind her as she strides to the stage with a stern expression, Fern and Daisy at her side assisting her as he walks. As she steps aboard the platform, Adder stands up with Merlyn in his hands.

“Helia, mother—”

Before he has a chance to explain himself, Helia turns to face the crowd.

“Nǣdre Tor! The festivities have not yet ended. Our Goddess still deserves our praise and worship…I encourage you to return to your homes and continue the celebration with your families. We must show our Goddess her influence has not been weakened..”

Villagers awkwardly shift around for a moment, gathering their belongings as the first few begin to obey her orders. Some stubbornly try to stay—but they’re easily cowed as the priestess of Giakora glares with all the fury of a Goddess. Finally, as the last reluctant few begin to leave, the town square slowly becomes more and more desolate. Adder feels empty as they disperse.

“Adder. Eben. You will come with me,” Helia growls lowly.

“But—”

“Now, child.”

Ever the good son, Adder bows his head meekly and obeys. He feels exposed as he traverses the streets of Nǣdre Tor without Eben’s glamor. They pass several villagers still celebrating—but as soon as they see Adder they freeze to gawk. Although Adder cannot see their faces, he feels the trembling of their hearts in the earth.

“It’s a bad omen,” the beekeeper’s son whispers hoarsely as they cross by.

Adder ignores the cruel words, hugging Merlyn more securely to his side as they enter the church once more. This time, the worshippers are deathly silent as they pass the altar and enter the narrow, catacomb-like hallways of the church.

Adder’s skin crawls as they get closer and closer to Sheppard’s old study. Even though it’s been long converted back into Helia’s space, Adder can’t unlearn the tremor his body makes with the squeak of the ancient door. Nor can he suppress the shudder as Daisy and Fern open the door and the smell of old books, potions, and Sheppard spills out.

He’s dead. He’s dead. He’s dead, Adder chants in his mind.

Fern and Daisy shut the door with a solid thunk, leaving Eben and Adder to their fate. Helia shuffles to her seat, groaning as her joints creak with the motion. She begins to gather several ingredients; what looks like pink petunias, willow bark, and a bright red jewel. She grinds them in an ancient moss-stained mortar and pestle before adding them to a teacup.

“Mother—”

“Silence. How dare you do this?”

Adder’s heart squeezes painfully. “I’m sorry I—I just wanted to come celebrate…”

“Have you no sense? Have you forgotten all the years I spent keeping you away, keeping you safe?! Do you intend to waste all I have done for you?!”

“I’m sorry—”

Eben steps forward, in between Adder and Helia. “It was my idea, Helia. We meant no harm.”

“Oh I know it was your idea because never in my son’s life did he do such hare-brained things until you came around!”

“Now that’s—”

There's a sharp bang as Helia slaps the mortar and pestle down on the desk. “Be quiet! Do you think I didn’t hear what happened with Basil and Edmund? Or in the orchard? Or at the river? Those were all your failures as much as his!”

Eben looks down at the ground, shame heating his face.

Adder takes that as his cue to jump in. “Mother, please don’t blame Eben. I knew it was dangerous—he didn’t understand…I’m sorry…”

Helia scowls harder. She snaps her fingers and a small flame is conjured there. She lights a small, ornate, alcohol stove and places a small kettle on it.

“Is it me you should be apologizing to? I told you there would be consequences for incubating that egg. Now you both have something bigger to care for. You need to be willing to sacrifice, to die for this child.”

“I would I—! I thought we were doing the right thing...”

“Just go, Adder. Leave the village; we will discuss this more later. Me and Eben need to have a chat.”

Adder is about to argue further, but Eben interrupts. He looks weary, fussing with one of his ears as he looks down at the ground.

“Adder, just…do as she says.”

Shame heats Adder’s cheeks—he made a fool of himself, didn’t he? Even Eben thinks so…

“Okay,” Adder croaks, “we will be in the orchard waiting for you.”

Adder leaves the study with haste, still holding Merlyn tight to his chest. As he re-enters the winding streets of Nǣdre Tor, he sees it is completely abandoned now. Without the villagers here, it feels incredibly lonely. He passes several abandoned altars, barren of the gifts that would usually be piled up by now. As he nears the exit, he finds an especially tragic sight—an altar not only barren, but completely destroyed. The offerings have been tossed to the ground, the flowers trampled. Did an angry villager toss them down, raging at the Goddess for allowing a beast to celebrate among them? More guilt wracks Adder’s mind; he didn’t just ruin the holiday for Merlyn and Eben, but for everyone.

The only balm to ease his heart is solitude right now. Luckily, solitude is exactly what he finds in the orchard—it's barren of fruit now, and with the villagers all gone it's extremely quiet save for the songbirds tittering.

Adder curls up in a sunny spot with Merlyn, holding her close. He looks down at her finally, finding big wet eyes and tears that track down her cheeks steadily.

“Oh little fledgling,” he whispers, “you didn’t mean to hurt them. It’s not your fault, little bird.”

Merlyn hiccups, snot trailing down her lip. Adder wipes it away gently.

“It’s okay. Are you tired? Why don’t you take a nap with me while we wait for Eben?”

Merlyn coos softly, sniffing. Adder lies on his side, using his tail as a pillow, and closes his eyes. He tries to calm himself with deep breaths, hoping that Merlyn will take his lead. He focuses on the sensations around him; Merlyn's little heartbeat, the soft green grass beneath him, and the warm sun, filtering through the dappled shadows of the apple trees. Quite soon, he’s relieved to feel Merlyn’s breaths even out as she starts to fall asleep.

However, Adder can’t sleep. Not really, not when there’s so much to think about. He settles on praying to his Goddess. He begs for forgiveness once again, his coils tightening as his face tightens in pain.

If his eyes were open, he’d see a singular Lily of the valley sprouting from the earth. Its snow white bells tremble in the wind.