2

My darling,

When the moon hides at night, your face in my mind’s eye lights up my world. It is never dark as long as I know you.

* * *

Micah led them down the path for only a few paces before sharply turning into the corn. Cecilia and Venali struggled to keep up with him— it was hard to not get lost in the never ending maize. After many twists and turns through the stalks, they reached a clearing. A house was planted in the center, only visible by the moonlight. It was a quaint, red building, similar to many others Cecilia had seen on her journey through the Human country of Entropion.

He led them inside and proceeded to light the kerosene lamps littered around the house. It created a soft glow inside the house, casting sweet dances of shadows on the wall from the flames. Straight ahead of them was a staircase leading to the second floor. Micah walked into the room to their left which looked like a kitchen. He started to pull out pots and pans, humming as he went.

“Make yourselves at home.” He made a gesture towards the rest of the house with a wooden spoon. “I don’t know about you, but all of this excitement has made me hungry. Food should be ready in a few minutes.”

“I’m going to rest my head,” Venali said, dramatically emphasizing the word head in Cecilia’s direction.

“Sorry again.” Cecilia said, grimacing inwardly.

“Well you can make it up to me by nursing me back to health.” He said, already turning towards the stairs.

She shook her head at him and went over to Micah. “I should probably help him get settled, do you have anything for his head?”

Micah nodded and wet a towel with water from the sink.

“This should work.” He said, handing it to her.

Cecilia smiled. “Thanks.”

As she headed up the stairs, Micah called after her.

“There should be an extra room to your left. Hopefully he settled in there.”

When she reached the top of the stairs, she found the spare room. It was empty. A light was coming from under the door across the hall and she wasn’t surprised to find Venali there instead. He was standing by the window, looking out at the dark farmland that surrounded the small house. He turned around to the soft click the door as she closed it behind her.

“Why don’t you lay on the bed? I got something for your head.” She said.

Venali moved toward the bed. “You know I was kidding, right, Losa? I can’t expect someone like you to call upon my every whim.”

Cecilia raised an eyebrow at him. “Someone like me can help you when I was the one that hit you in the first place.”

She swatted at Venali’s legs to make room for her to sit on the bed. He leaned back on his hands and closed his eyes as she dabbed at his face with the cool towel.

“Losa,” She smiled to herself. “I haven’t heard that name in years.”

“And yet it still fits.” He replied, not bothering to open his eyes. “The flower that hides it’s thorns, beautiful but painful.”

She hit him playfully in the arm. “I don’t remember hurting you before tonight.”

Venali opened his eyes, squinting at her. “What about that time you pushed me down the stairs?”

“I tripped and you happened to be in front of me! I’m pretty sure I was bruised more than you.” Cecilia defended.

He sat up, a grin spread across his face. “Or that time you made faces behind the girl I was trying to ask to the ball and she thought I was laughing at her.”

“How did that cause you pain?” She asked, shaking her head.

“It caused emotional pain of the most excruciating form-utter embarrassment.” He flopped back on the pillows, looking at her through his long, blond eyelashes.

“Probably for the best.” She began dabbing the towel over his forehead again.

“See? There you go again, Losa. Always putting me down.”

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Cecilia laughed at his dramatics. It felt good- to laugh. It had been a while. Venali was quiet for a few moments and she took the opportunity to look around.

The room was plain. White walls, simple wooden floors, no drapes on the window. Even the sheets were just a solid blue color. A small closest hid in the corner next to the window and there was an entable next to the bed. It was made up of the same wood the floors were. This was by far the most intricate thing in the room. Beautiful carvings were made into the sides. It was absolutely beautiful.On the table rested a book with red binding. The title read Hansel Guildmen’s Paradise Seeking. She had never heard of it before. She wondered who it belonged to. Micah did say this was his family’s home. Besides that and the bed though, there was nothing else in the room.

Cecilia turned towards Venali.

“How do you fe-” She paused when she realized that he had fallen asleep.

His breath had settled into a steady rhythm, his eyes fluttering under his eyelids. Cecilia stood up as quietly as she could, trying not to shake the bed too much. She looked at him for a moment before she left. When he was sleeping, he almost looked, dare she say it, vulnerable. His face had relaxed out of that guarded look she had grown used to, making him look more innocent.

She turned and left, closing the door quietly behind her, and headed back down the stairs.

“How is he?” Micah asked when she turned the corner into the kitchen. “Did you get the chance to hit him again?”

“Sadly no. He fell asleep before anything too unsavory was said.” Cecilia handed him the damp towel. “Mind if I look around?”

“Not at all,” Micah said while he started to slice a loaf of bread.

She wandered into the room opposite the kitchen and found it was some kind of dining room. There was a large table surrounded by chairs. The table was made out of beautiful dark wood with hints of red in it. The chairs seemed to be made out of the same kind of wood but were all different sizes and shapes. There was a chair with long, elegant arms, a stool with intricate designs carved into the seat, a chair without arms but with a back that had crisscrossing panels of wood, and a long, simple bench on the far side of the table. Cecilia was intrigued by all of them. They reminded her of the entable in the bedroom.

She noticed a door at the other end of the room. It was closed, but opened easily when she tried it. There was no lamp that she could find, so Cecilia circled back to retrieve the one sitting on the dining table. Upon re-entering the room, she couldn’t help but gasp.

There were books everywhere. Soft chairs were littered around the room as well as a little nook complete with a stained glass window beside it. The rest of the room was crammed with books. They were all neatly ordered on various bookshelves. She shuffled between bookcase after bookcase, finding fairy tales, books on farming, and even what looked like a self illustrated picture book about castles.

Cecilia slowly made her way to the nook, brushing her fingers along the spines as she went. Settling into the bench, she looked up at the stained glass window above her and wondered what colors they were. She always loved how stained glass had its own kind of magic. Not like Ferie magic, but a more creative and intuitive magic that the humans had somehow captured. Only the light would show its beauty, the night making it a mystery.

Her thoughts moved to the mob she saw back in town. Humans had always fascinated her. Their creativity and artistry drew her to them against her will. Maybe her mother’s influence on her life was to blame. She always made sure Cecilia didn’t think herself better than the humans like most elves did. She educated her on their culture and even named her after a talented human musician.

All of that changed though, when they killed her parents. She was away from her father at the time and she had to hear from a trusted friend in Tahro, the earth Ferie kingdom, who was housing them that he had passed. And her mother… she pushed the thought out of her mind. It was too painful. Too soon.

Thankfully, Cecilia’s thoughts escaped her when a melody floated through the house. After struggling to stand back up from the comfort of the nook, she headed back out of the library towards the sound. She could start to make out a few lyrics as she got closer to the kitchen.

Bring me a gallon of sugar and spice

Bring me a bag full of stars

Bring me the moon and the peace of the world

Lift up my soul with sugar and spice

Lift me away with the stars

Micah had his back turned to her when she entered. A soft hum flowed out of him as he stirred something on the stove. She paused, leaning against the doorway, listening to him. His voice was warm and soft and the melody seemed to dance in the air. He ladled whatever was in the pot into two bowls and turned around, still humming to himself as he gestured for her to sit at the counter. Out of recent habit, she approached slowly to the other side. She wanted to trust Micah, she did, and she didn’t have any reason not to, but the voice in the back of her mind was always whispering for her to be cautious. He placed the bowl in front of her and a warm waved of steam hit her face.

“What is it?” she asked, breathing in the delicious smells that were wafting from the dish.

“My mom used to make it for us when we were little,” he explained. “It’s a stew with vegetables and potatoes and some other spices.”

“Us?” Cecilia inquired, blowing on her spoon.

“My sister and I.” Micah said, leaning on the opposite side of the counter. “We used to come to this house in the summers and after we spent all day outside getting lost in the corn, she would call us inside and have this ready for us.” He was looking down into his soup as he talked, like he was reading the words from the bowl. Cecilia could hear the sadness in his voice as he talked about them, his family.

“What happened to them?”

He was silent for a moment, still staring down at his untouched food.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry I just-” she explained.

“No, no it’s ok.” he reassured her, though she could tell a wall had come up over his eyes.

“Harper, my sister, ran away a few days ago without telling any of us. My parents went to look for her, but I had to stay behind to tend the fields. I haven’t seen any of them since. I’m assuming they still haven’t been able to find her.” He played with a chain around his throat. It had a small corkscrew shell attached to the end of it.

“Was that hers?” Cecilia asked.

He smiled sadly. “Yeah. she declared it our family symbol a long time ago. She thought it was fitting for our last name— Shorebord.”

Cecilia pulled out her necklace as well. It was a silver cross with pink metal roses on it. “This was my mothers. She gave it to me before she… before she passed.”

“It’s beautiful.” He said.

“Thanks,” she replied. They fell silent, lost in thought. Cecilia missed her family. What happened to them was so painfully fresh in her mind. She could still feel her mother's lifeless body in her arms, the panic she felt when she realized what had happened to her. What they did to her.

She stood up suddenly from the table. “I’m sorry it’s really late. I should go.” She said hurriedly. Seeing him, what he was, brought back too many memories. She was trusting him too fast. What was she thinking? She had to be wary, she had to. She had to stay focused.

“Cecilia wait—” Micah called but she was already gone, hurrying up the stairs and away from him.

* * *