I am Willow of the Fae, and I have lived for 5,095 years. At this fleeting moment in my vast existence, I find myself the guardian of Ren Drakemore, the second prince of Arcadia.
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Ren looks pale and shaky as we step into the crystal-lit tower. His hazel eyes hold a suppressed fear, despite the brave face he tries to wear. I’ve observed humans for five thousand years, and in that time, I’ve come to understand their nature better than they do themselves.
No matter what Ren says or how determined he appears, I know this: humans are always afraid of the true form of the Fae. A child who sees what we really are will inevitably feel unsafe, lose their trust in us, and eventually, they will run. I am certain of this. It’s only a matter of time.
“Can I get you something to eat, young Master?” I ask gently, my concern evident as I look down at him.
The sorrow in his eyes as he looks back at me twist something inside me. I hate that I am the reason for that expression. I’ve worked so hard to be the person he needed, to make him feel happy and safe. But what happened in the alley... all of that effort feels wasted now.
“I’m not hungry,” Ren murmurs, his voice heavy with fatigue. “I think I just want to sit and rest.” He gestures weakly toward the nearby couch.
“Very well,” I reply, guiding him with a gentle hand. We both sit down.
He curls into himself, pulling his legs up to his chest and burying his face in his knees. He’s trying so hard not to cry, but I can see the struggle etched into every movement. The sight of him like this fills me with regret. I shouldn’t have held back so much with the sleep spell.
If I’d used just a little more power, he wouldn’t have seen what I did in that alley. I underestimated how strong his mental defenses have become. I made a mistake, and there’s only one solution.
“Is there anything I can do for you?” I ask softly, my voice barely above a whisper.
I already know the answer. The only thing I can do to truly help him is against the terms of our contract. I can’t act unless he tries to run away. And he will. It’s inevitable.
“No,” Ren whispers, his voice muffled against his knees. “Just stay close, please.”
Stay close? He wants to keep me in sight. What is he planning?
I narrow my eyes slightly, watching Ren closely, analyzing his every move and expression. He wants me to believe he desires my company, but I know better. Whatever he’s doing, it’s a prelude to an escape attempt. I can’t forget that I’ve been enhancing Ren’s intelligence with magic for years. He’s a clever boy, far more so than most his age, and that means I must tread carefully.
Then, I sense it, a familiar mana signature entering the tower’s secret basement entrance. He’s called for his damn metal golem.
I stand, stepping back from Ren instinctively. I hadn’t predicted he would go so far as to try to kill me, but summoning his mechanical killing machine now is no coincidence.
Well done, Ren.
Your emotional performance was convincing, skillfully hiding your true intention to destroy me. Clever indeed. Still, if Shadow intends to attack, I need to put some distance between myself and Ren. He’s fragile. If a fight breaks out, I can’t risk him getting caught in the crossfire.
“Shadow has arrived, Master Ren,” I say, keeping my tone even despite the tension creeping into my voice. I casually back away under the guise of tidying a desk stacked with books further from him.
Ren looks up, first with anticipation toward the staircase, then quickly shifts to something else, sadness. His gaze follows me as I retreat.
It’s okay, Ren. I’m not angry that you planned this.
It’s in your nature as a human to fear what you don’t understand, to want to destroy what frightens you. This is my fault for revealing myself to you in that alley. Don’t worry. When this is over, I’ll fix you. I’ll erase the painful memories that make you fear me.
The sound of heavy, armored boots echoes up the staircase, each metallic step growing louder. Shadow is ascending from the basement. My senses sharpen as his form emerges, rounding the corner to our floor.
Shadow walked to Ren’s side. His cloak bore tears and old bloodstains, and his armor was cracked and dented from many battles. Dust from the long journey from Stonebrook clung to him from hood to greaves. His sword, which had slain many beasts, was sheathed at his hip. Shadow had come armed and prepared for a fight.
To my surprise, Shadow makes a beeline straight for Ren. This is... unexpected. Perhaps he doesn’t plan on attacking me after all. Maybe Ren intends to use Shadow as a shield in his escape.
A good plan, Ren, but you underestimate me.
Even though Shadow’s metal body negates my magic, I am still physically strong enough to tear him apart. Besides, I would have needed to destroy any copy of Ren with those memories anyway.
“Hey, Shadow. Good to see you,” Ren says casually, turning toward a pile of books on the table beside the couch, his tone betraying no hint of his intent.
“Seems like you had a rough night,” Shadow replies, its head briefly turning toward me before returning its focus to Ren. Ren hands the puppet an open book, pointing to a specific page.
“Yeah, you could say that,” Ren says darkly, his finger still resting on the page. “While you’re here, I want us to practice this new—”
“Before we do that, can you please restart my enchantment?” Shadow interrupts, its voice carrying a note of irritation.
Clever. Shadow wants its enchantment refreshed, its mana fully replenished before it dares challenge me. A wise precaution.
“You won’t need me to restart your enchantment, or even infuse you with mana, if you just learn this Drain Touch spell,” Ren retorts, frustration creeping into his voice.
Drain Touch? My mind races at his words. That spell allows the caster to siphon mana directly from their target. It’s a technique devastatingly effective against spirits like the fae, beings composed of pure energy.
Where did he learn about that spell?
None of the books I placed in this tower contain that knowledge. It must be from one of the volumes provided by the academy.
Curses! I should have examined those books more carefully before allowing Ren access.
A chill creeps over me, an unfamiliar sensation. For the first time, I feel a genuine sense of danger emanating from Ren.
I back away further, pretending to dust a distant bookshelf, but my focus remains on Ren and Shadow’s interaction. Their conversation grows heated. Shadow says something about feeling trapped, and Ren responds, his voice tense, saying, “You don’t understand how much I fear the convergence.” Shadow counters with something about being treated like a tool, and Ren snaps back about not being able to handle the memories.
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I hear the words, but my mind is preoccupied with the cold realization of what Ren is attempting. He’s brought his metal golem here and plans to teach it a spell tailored to harm me, a spell I had deliberately kept out of reach.
What should I do? I can’t act now, Ren have’t breached his contract. If I just destroy Shadow Ren will fear me even more. I can’t cause him more pain.
“You don’t know what it’s like being trapped in a body with no touch or smell!” Shadow yells at Ren, his frustration boiling over. “I think you forget that I’m a person in this hunk of metal!”
“And you’ve forgotten what fear and terror feels like to a person with a real body, with senses!” Ren snaps back, his voice tight with emotion. “When you see yourself being torn apart, your heart doesn’t seize up. You don’t struggle to breathe. You don’t know what that does to me!”
Their argument reverberates through the room, the tension between them palpable.
“Fine,” Ren finally says, his voice cracking with exhaustion. “I’ll research a way to modify your enchantment so you can feel things, if you’ll agree to practice this spell with me.”
Shadow hesitates, his tone uncertain as he responds, “We don’t even know how to do that…”
“I said I’ll research it,” Ren retorts, collapsing onto the couch with his head in his hands. “I’ll do my best to figure it out. But I can’t keep doing this. I can handle the slow trickle of memories you send me every day, but if I get them all at once, I don’t think I’ll survive that.”
Shadow moves toward the couch, his heavy steps echoing through the room. He sits down carefully next to Ren, the sheer weight of his metal body causing the cushion to sink far lower on his side. Ren slides over from the shift, bumping his head against Shadow’s shoulder.
“Ouch!” Ren exclaims, rubbing his temple.
“Sorry,” Shadow replies, his tone softer now.
After a moment of silence, Shadow finally says, “Okay, I’ll practice that spell with you, Ren. I know you need someone other than Willow to work with.”
Ren lifts his head from his hands and looks over at Shadow, the tension in his face softening just slightly. “Thank you,” he murmurs, though the weight of the world still seems to rest on his small shoulders.
From where I stand, I can see the stress etched into his young face. He looks like he’s carrying burdens far beyond his years. A part of me aches to go to him, to comfort him, to tell him it will be okay. But I can’t, not now. Not while fear still lingers in his heart when he looks at me. Once he breaks the contract. Only then can I effectively comfort him.
For now, what he needs most is some distance from me, some privacy to continue his plans without feeling watched. Staying here will only delay the inevitable.
“Don’t stay up too late, young master,” I say gently. “I’m going to clean up and head to my room. You should do the same soon.”
Without waiting for a response, I turn and quietly head upstairs. Behind me, there is first silence, then the distant murmur of Ren and Shadow’s voices resumes. I make my way to the baths on the third floor and begin to undress. As I remove my clothes, they dissolve into nothingness, mere creations of my magic, just another part of the illusion. Truthfully, I don’t need to bathe to be clean. This physical body is merely a construct that I could will clean with a thought.
Yet, my time with Ren has required me to maintain this living form for far longer than I ever have before. In doing so, I’ve come to understand that baths are as much about relaxing and refreshing the mind as they are about cleanliness. And right now, with this storm of thoughts and concerns swirling in my head, and the odd chill of knowing Ren fears me enough to hate me—this feels like the right time to clear my mind.
I touch the rune near the bath’s entrance, channeling a sliver of mana into it. It glows red, and warm water begins to flow from a fountain into the bathing pool. I step into the water, feeling its gentle warmth as it rises, creeping up my legs. I sink onto the low ledge within the pool, leaning back as the water washes over me. Its subtle floral scent, a fragrance I discovered during my travels, fills the air.
Sitting in the steaming bath, accompanied only by the soft trickle of water, I am suddenly acutely aware of my solitude. It shouldn’t be a problem; I have always been alone. I have always preferred it that way. Mortals in my life have only ever been tools to use and discard. Even Ren… Even Ren is nothing more than a means to an end. I am here to fulfill my role, to complete a contract.
Then why do I feel so uneasy? Why do I feel so cold?
The bath does little to settle my turmoil, so I rise and take my leave. As I step from the water, my hair and skin dry in an instant. Ribbons of magic form my nightgown, wrapping around me and stitching themselves into place.
I suppose I’ll wait for the Young Master’s betrayal in my room.
I take the staircase up two more floors to where Ren’s room and mine are positioned side by side. The circular walkway surrounding the central spiral staircase leads me to my door. I push it open, the heavy wooden panel creaking softly. At its center, the words “Lady Willow” are etched in slightly crude, misshapen letters.
Ren carved them years ago when he was just learning to shape wood with magic. He thought it odd that I made no effort to personalize my room, I never filled it with belongings or collected things. So, he decided to mark my door as a gift, hoping it would make me feel more… at home.
I lay down on my bed, not to sleep but to wait.
Hours pass. I sense Ren and Shadow in the workshop on the first floor, practicing their new spell. Eventually, Ren leaves to take a bath while Shadow moves restlessly about downstairs. After his bath, Ren returns to his room and lays down in bed.
That’s odd. Perhaps they’re planning to wait until later in the night. Maybe they think they can catch me while I’m sleeping. Come now, Ren. You know I don’t sleep.
I attune my senses, focusing on his movements to discern his plan. But all I sense is him tossing and turning. He does this for nearly thirty minutes before abruptly rising from his bed and leaving his room.
This is it. He’s making his move. Do your best, Ren. Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you. I’ll fix this as if it never happened.
But what’s this? Ren doesn’t go downstairs. Instead, he comes to my door. I hear the quiet knock of a small, hesitant hand rapping against the wood.
“W… Willow?” Ren’s trembling voice breaks the silence.
“Yes, young master?” I reply, confused, sitting up in my bed and facing the door.
“Can I come in, please?” he asks, slowly opening the door and peering inside, looking sheepish.
“Yes, if you wish,” I answer softly, sadness creeping into my voice.
So this is where we’ll fight.
“You sure? Are you mad at me?” Ren asks, stepping into the room. His voice trembles slightly, and as he approaches, I see the exhaustion etched deeper into his features. His messy black hair falls into his sorrowful eyes. “Did I do something wrong?”
“Oh, no, Master Ren. Whatever you do, I won’t be angry,” I say, watching him closely. I analyze his movements as he steps closer, my eyes fixed on the flow of his mana, ready to detect the first sign of a spell. The moment he attacks, the contract will break. I won’t need to hurt him—just remove his memories. After that, I’ll deal with Shadow.
But Ren doesn’t attack. He stops beside me, his hands trembling as he asks, “Why did you go away?”
“I… I don’t—” I stammer, the question catching me off guard. It’s so far from what I expected, I can’t immediately grasp its meaning in this context.
Suddenly, Ren climbs onto the bed beside me and wraps his arms around my torso. The squeeze is firm but hesitant—not an attack, but a hug. If this is an attack, it’s the most ineffective one I’ve ever encountered. No… this feels like something else entirely.
“Mom, I’m so scared. Please don’t leave me alone,” Ren says, his voice breaking as tears spill down his cheeks. He clings to me, his fear raw and unguarded. I freeze, stunned, but then instinctively place my arms around him, returning the embrace.
Did he just call me Mom?
“I don’t think I could have killed those guys. I don’t think I want to kill anyone. I don’t think I can do this. I’m just so scared,” Ren confesses, his words pouring out like a flood breaking through a dam. The tears don’t stop, and I feel his small frame shaking in my arms.
“Shhh… It’s okay, Ren,” I say softly, my voice taking on a soothing tone. “I won’t let anyone hurt you."
“And you don’t need to kill anyone,” I add, still a bit bewildered but trying to go with the moment, gently patting Ren on the back to calm him. “Right now, your only focus should be on becoming stronger and wiser. Today, all you need to do is prepare yourself, so that in the future, you’ll have the tools you need to make the right choices—and the strength to carry them out.”
My mind is still reeling from his embrace and his words. Yet, despite my bewilderment, I hold him close, trying to ease his pain. Slowly, Ren begins to calm down. Maybe it’s my words, or maybe it’s the comfort of the moment, I’m not sure. But his trembling eases, and his breathing steadies.
And yet, his embrace, his words, and the warmth in his tears have shattered every expectation I held. They’ve filled me with a feeling I don’t quite understand.
“Can I sleep here tonight?” Ren asks quietly, his voice still thick with emotion as he clings to me.
“Of course you can,” I reply gently.
Ren loosens his grip and looks up at me, his tear-streaked face softening. He sniffles, wiping his nose on the sleeve of his sleeping clothes.
“I love you, Mom,” he says with a faint, vulnerable smile.
He said it again. Mom.
I don’t deserve that title.
I guess I was wrong about Ren.
I guess I was wrong about a few things today.
"I love you too." I don't know why I said it, it just slipped out.