They reached the church by sundown. Venali had only been here once before. His parents took him here as a detour before sailing at the international pier. That pier, now destroyed, had been part of his childhood. The port was his second home; he couldn’t believe it had been reduced to ash and dust.

Cecilia pulled on the handle of the large wood front door and it opened silently. They filed through and it shut behind them with a muffled bang. In front of them was a large, open room with rows upon rows of benches. Elaborately detailed stone pillars were placed evenly throughout the room, reaching from the floor to the ceiling. White walls and clear windows made up the rest of the structure, just how Venali remembered it.

They walked towards the front of the room where an altar sat behind a short stone wall with an opening only big enough to fit a few people through at a time. Candles were burning on either side of the altar, but the area was otherwise bare. Venali had visited during the day when the altar was covered with bright cloth, flowers, and golden dishes. Sunlight had hit the floor in bright shining rays and the atmosphere felt more glorious and less… defeated.

“Hello?” Cecilia’s voice rang out throughout the church. Venali remembered all the hushed echoes he had heard the first time he had come. So many people were here to pray or simply visit like his family was. Now, it was silent except for the echoing of their shuffled footsteps and the last reverberations of Cecilia’s call.

A man in black robes emerged from a door located on the wall to the right of the altar a few moments later. He was older, with thinning gray hair and glasses. The robes looked like they should have overwhelmed him but they didn’t somehow; his posture and presence seemed to give off an authoritative air that filled them.

“Hello…travelers.” He said, eyeing the Daemon and Micah.

“Hello,” Cecilia said again, standing taller. “My friends and I have traveled very far, and we were wondering if you would be kind enough to let us stay for the night. We will really be no trouble.” She was being very diplomatic. He noticed how she chose her words just so to be more persuasive. He had to admit, he was slightly impressed.

The man looked at them once more and Venali could have sworn he was about to turn them away. But what he said next surprised him. A smile spread across his old face and he bowed towards them. “You are welcome to stay as long as you’d like,” he said. “I’ll show you to our spare rooms. You must be hungry as well. We have already eaten but I will make sure to prepare a few things before you retire.”

“We?” Venali asked.

“Indeed, we.” The man said, beckoning them through the door he had first come from. “I live here with several other knights. We are the leaders of this church.”

They followed him single file down the hall which was lit with soft candle light that bounced off the stone walls. Tapestries of the royal family and the great war hung from the ceiling. They were very detailed, almost to the point of being gruesome. A chill went down Venali’s spine and he was glad to be in the back of the group where no one could see him. Hand sewn images of battles all around the globe were detailed with bright thread. The red strings of blood were shining in the candle light. Faces of slain feries not much unlike Cassia were filled with pain as a Daemon spear pierced them. More tapestries showed Elf soldiers in their shining armor making deals with the Ferie kings. Hearing the stories as a child had made him so proud of his country and his people, his history. But now, Venali had a hard time ignoring all the violence and pain that went into those histories. As much as he tried now, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the streams of blood woven with bright red thread.

The knight stopped them as soon as they turned the corner at the end of the hallway, bringing Venali’s attention back to the others.

“Down this hall are all our spare rooms. You should each be able to have your own if you prefer. I’ll come back when dinner is prepared.” With that, he bowed once more before Cecilia and headed down the corridor opposite them. As Venali watched him go, he silently let out a breath of relief. He had felt so suffocated in his presence. It definitely had not felt like that when he had come with his parents. He guessed the world was different now. It was different for good. Now that the world was breaking apart, he would have to embrace what survived and call it home.

He wondered if the others felt it. If they did, they were hiding it well. Cecilia smiled at them reassuringly and had taken the first room on the right, closing the door quietly behind her. Micah said something quietly to Melech and then strode into the room across from hers, claiming it. The Daemon nodded at him and then stepped inside the room next to Cecilia’s leaving him with the one next to Micah’s. Venali rubbed his eyes and slid down the wall next to the princess’ door instead, feeling no reason to rush inside.

Venali noticed a final tapestry hung across from him when he opened his eyes again. The church was pictured in this one. It’s steeple rose high above the clouds and rays of light shone from behind it woven in beautiful gold string. The sea was illustrated towards the bottom, complete with the soft white sails of boats representing the docks. He stared at those boats for what seemed like forever, letting his mind drift to how the wind felt in his hair and how the ropes had burnt his hands. His father had always said to believe in his people, that he was descended from greatness. He wasn’t about to let a few tapestries dull his father's words. The image in front of him truly showed how it is to be an elf. A few ferie’s dying is nothing. His people were mighty and the sun shone on them. It would always shine on them.

Venali rested his head against the stone and repeated those words to himself until the doubt that was creeping in his heart was pushed into a dark corner he couldn’t see into. The sun would always shine on them.

Cecilia peeked out around her door into the dark hallway. Everyone had retired after the less than satisfactory meal they’d had. She shuddered at the memory of that horrible gray slosh they had given her. No amount of hunger would allow her to choke it down and now she was more starved than ever.

She pushed the door open and its hinges squeaked loudly. She paused for a moment, waiting for someone to come inspect the noise, but to her relief, no one did. Letting out the breath she had been holding, Cecilia stepped out into the empty hall. Now all she had to do was remember which way the kitchen was. Something touched her shoulder and she jumped. She turned around and found Micah behind her. He held up his hands innocently.

“Relax, it’s just me.” he said. “What are you doing out here anyway?”

“What are you doing out here?” Cecilia replied.

“I heard a door creak and I wanted to see if this place was haunted.”

“No that was just me, sorry to disappoint.” Her stomach growled as she spoke. “Do you remember where the kitchen was?”

“I think so.” He said and started down the hallway. She followed him over to the swinging door at the end of the hallway. It opened up into a small but not unpleasant sized kitchen. While the Knight's simple lifestyle seeped into this space as well, it was somehow still beautiful in its plainess. Soft wood countertops melted into white stone shelves that were lined with cooking utensils and spices. The room was lit with bright yellow light but Cecilia couldn’t find the source. Must have been enchanted by fire feries before the war.

“Do you think the Knight’s will notice an apple or two missing?” She asked, feeling a slight pang of guilt as she took one off the shelf nearby.

“How about we cook for them instead?” Micah countered, taking the apple out of her hand and gently placing it back. “I’m sure they’re just as tired of eating that as we were. That way we can give back what we took.”

Cecilia nodded and leaned her elbows on the counter, watching as Micah took an inventory of the kitchen. He grabbed a few ingredients and unloaded his treasures on the counter, giving her a proud look. She poked a few vegetables with her finger and gave him a sheepish smile.

“I’m actually not very good at cooking,” she admitted as he threw her a jar filled with green spices. She barely caught it before putting it on the counter top. “I’ll try to stay out of your way.”

“You won’t be in my way if I’m teaching you how to cook.” He said, placing the jar back into her hands. She gave him a surprised look.

“I’m not sure if that’s the best idea. The last time I was in the kitchen I nearly burned down the entire castle.” She cringed at the memory. “Oh, Mariona was so mad.”

“Mariona?” Micah asked as he moved around her to grab a bowl. He opened the jar and shook the spice in.

“Our cook.” Cecilia said. “She would let me watch her in the kitchen until I became a hazard. I always loved the way she would just throw in the spices without measuring or anything. Like she just had a sense of how food worked. It always tasted amazing. I don’t know how she did it.”

Micah nodded his head as he listened but his eyes were focused on cutting a few vegetables into small, even squares. His cuts were precise and smooth, like it was second nature for him. When he had finished the one he was on, he handed the knife to her and guided her to where he had been standing. She grabbed a carrot and started to chop at it. She realized very quickly she couldn’t cut it as neatly and beautifully as him. Frustration started to ebb into her and she started to cut more aggressively until—

“Ouch.” She dropped the knife as a small trickle of blood started out of her finger.

“Looks like you’re worse than I thought.” He shook his head lightheartedly as he took her hand and inspected her wound.

“Hey.” Cecilia said, warningly. She was already frustrated enough at her failings, she didn’t need him to mock her on top of it. “I told you I’m a lost cause. I can’t even cut something without ruining the kitchen.”

He let go of her hand and she watched as he looked around for something to bandage her up with. He returned with a small rag he had ripped and beckoned for her hand. She placed her hand atop his. He wrapped her finger with the piece of cloth and tied it tight.

“You’re not a lost cause.” he said when he was finished. “You just need some guidance.” Cecilia reluctantly let herself be lead to the counter once more. Micah picked up the knife from behind her and placed another carrot in front of them. He then gave the knife to her and put his hand on top of hers to guide it.

“Here, hold it down like this so it’s less wobbly.” He moved her other hand to hold it like he had done earlier. She had always wanted to learn how to do this, but he was making it hard to concentrate. She was suddenly very aware of the calluses on his hands and his breath in her hair as he explained what to do. Her heart pounded as she let his hand guide hers, and hoped to the heavens that he wouldn’t notice. Finally she had finished one and he let go, stepping back to let her admire her handiwork.

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“It looks so neat.” she said, smiling despite herself. “How long have you been doing this, cooking?”

“My mother taught me when I was a little boy. I always loved watching her cook. Much like you enjoyed watching Mariona, I imagine.” He grabbed the vegetables and put them in a bowl. Then, he set up the fire pit and started the fire with one of his matches. “I begged and begged for her to teach me and she finally caved when she realized my sister had no interest.” When the fire had caught the bigger logs, he put the bowl on the flames.

They fell silent and watched the fire. The flames cast dancing shadows over Micah’s face as he watched the bowl. When they were done, he took it from the heat and showed her which spices to put in. He cooked just like Mariona, never measuring, but just seeming to know what to do, like it was some primal instinct she was never born with. Lastly, when they had thrown who knows what onto the vegetables, Micah found some honey and drizzled it on top. He found two spoons, handed one to her, and placed the bowl in between them. Her mouth was already beginning to water before she took the first bite. It was amazing. The food melted in her mouth with flavors of pepper and honey washing over her. She probably ate more than her fair share in an unlady like amount of time. When it was gone, she smiled sheepishly at Micah.

“I guess you were really hungry.” He laughed, taking the bowl and her spoon and putting it to the side.

“Sorry, that wasn’t very polite of me.” She looked down, embarrassed.

“No, it’s ok,” He said. “You deserve to enjoy what you cooked, that’s the best part.”

“But I didn’t even really do anything. You basically made the whole thing.”

“Give yourself a little credit, I think the blood from your finger added the perfect touch.” He kissed his fingers in mocking admaration.

Cecilia shook her head at him while he carried the dirty utensils to a bucket of water in the corner to clean them. While he washed, she busied herself by putting the spices and extra vegetables away where Micah had found them. When they had finished, it looked as if no one had been there.

“That went better than expected,” Cecilia said, admiring the clean kitchen. A bowl for the Knights to enjoy was left neatly on the counter. “We didn’t leave one trace of the mess we made.”

“Except for this,” Micah replied. He brought his hand to her chin. “There’s honey right… there.” He wiped her face softly with his finger. She held her breath as his hand lingered for just a moment. There was something in his face, in his eyes she noticed as he looked at her. Then, in the time it took her to blink, it was gone. He retracted his hand hastily and turned away from her, grabbing the water bucket.

“I think I saw a well outside, I’m going to change the water.” He didn’t look back as he left the room. “Goodnight, Cecilia.”

The change in his tone caught her off guard. She couldn’t gather herself to reply until the door had slammed behind him.

“What do you mean we can’t see the High Priest?” Cecilia watched as Melech asked the Knight in disbelief. The Knight, who had introduced himself as Matthieu, had woken them up this morning and had taken them into the sacred library to ask them about their business. When they arrived, Cecilia marveled at how big it was. Shelves reached a height of what looked like three stories, and each was overflowing with books. They had taken a seat by the windows where the sea was just visible before the horizon. Melech was the only one who remained standing; he leaned against a bookcase that ended just as the window began. Cecilia had to admit, he did look rather intimidating like that, arms crossed, jaw set, and a look that said the only reason you were still alive was because he had decided to spare you for the moment.

“What I said, I mean.” The Knight said calmly, pointing his own cold glare in Melech’s direction. “The High Priest hasn’t taken any visitors since Aduial Amon was attacked. We’ve tried to reach him many a time and he hasn’t responded.”

Cecilia looked over at Micah who had chosen the seat furthest away from her. He had given her the cold shoulder all morning, what had she done to upset him? She started to pick at her nails nervously and turned her attention to Venali, who had also been unusually quiet this morning. He gave her the same look her had given her the night they found the woman in the water—like something was not quite right.

“Well,” Venali said, standing up from his chair. “Try again.”

“There might be better results if you tell me what business you have with the Priest specifically.” The knight said sharply. Cecilia looked at Melech. It was true, he had been very sparing on the details of why they were really here.

“Our business with the Priest is none of your concern.” Venali shot back. Cecilia could tell he was losing his temper and that would be no good for any of them. They needed to stay here until they could get an audience with the Priest.

“Send a message to Sal instead then.” Cecilia said quietly. They turned towards her.

“Who madam?” The knight asked.

“Tell the Priest to give the message to Sal instead.” Cecilia explained. “I used to… to work at the Castle and Sal would handle internal affairs. If the Priest doesn’t want to communicate, the least he can do is forward a message on to my friend.”

“What if your friend is dead?” Knight Matthieu said.

“Then the worst that can happen is not get a reply back from him.” Sher reasoned. “Let us wait for a message back for five days and if there is no answer we will leave you.”

The knight sighed. “I will do as you ask, but don’t expect a reply.” With that, he left. Leaving them in the library alone.

“Sal?” Melech inquired, moving off the bookshelf to sit in a chair opposite her.

“Elas, the High Priest, was my father’s best friend. He would call him Sal and I picked it up when I was little. I always called him Sal.” Cecilia replied.

“But if only you and your father called him Sal, he will know you are alive.” Venali said, sitting back down next to her.

“That is the plan. If he knows I’m alive, he might be more eager to talk to me.” She said. Melech glared disapprovingly at her. “Don’t worry. I trust him to keep my identity a secret. It’s perfectly safe. He’s family.”

“If this is what you believe,” Melech said, crossing his arms and slumping against the back of his chair.

“It is.” Cecilia said confidently. “Don’t you trust me?”

Melech nodded slightly after a moment. “I do.”

She smiled back at him. “Good.”

The knight returned then and informed then that the message has been sent. “It should arrive at the castle by tonight. But that’s all I can do for you.”

“Thank you Knight Matthieu.” Cecilia stood and curtsied towards him.

“While you are waiting for a reply, make yourselves at home.”

“Thank you.” Cecilia looked in Micah’s direction in surprise. It was the first thing he had said all day. As soon as he had, he stood and walked out of the library, followed soon after by the knight. She watched him go in despair. Could he really not even stay in the same room as her for more than an hour?

“What’s his problem?” Venali asked, clearly regaining his sense of self this morning. Cecilia didn’t respond and looked out the window instead. Clouds had covered the sun and it looked like it was going to rain. She could feel Venali’s eyes on her, searching for an answer. Like she would know. She was just as confused as he was. Cecilia shrugged in reply and watched as small drops of rain started to spatter on the windows. The sun had receded behind the storm clouds and a flash of lightning was visible in the distance. She needed to clear her head. Elas would send them back a message soon, she knew it, and she needed to be ready. Distractions were not an option. Her parents would not die in vain. She would take back her country and help Melech stabilize his. Humans were the cause of all of this anyway. Why was she letting Micah control her so much? He wasn’t to be trusted!

Cecilia stood up suddenly, nearly knocking Venali out of his chair. She needed to focus on what was important, and there was only one place to do that. Without looking at the concerned face of Melech and the smug look of Venali, she walked out of the room and to the only place where she would be able to think clearly.

* * *

“Come again soon dearie!” Cassia waved from the doorway at the poor nymph who had taken the spoiled potion. Sirens like her specialized in magical herbology and other nymphs came to them for potions to fix anything imaginable. In this case, she sent this ferie away with a potion to fix broken hearts. But when it doesn’t work the first time, they are willing to pay more the second. Desperation is her best customer after all.

“Don’t you have anything better to do than scam people in need?” Nevari came up behind her as she shut the door.

“Don’t you have anything better to do than follow me around all day, sulking?” Cassia replied sweetly.

Nevari folded her arms in front of her. “Do I really have a choice? I thought it was ‘never leave my side, Nevari’, ‘your skin will be ripped off if you do Nevari.’” The Daemon mocked, sounding nothing at all like Cassia.

“I didn’t mean you needed to breathe down my neck.” She was starting to get annoyed at her density. She forgot how literal Daemons could be. “As long as you stay on the grounds we should be fine. Now get out of my way.” She moved around Nevari to put a few jars back on the shelf that had been out from earlier, making sure to give her best glare as she passed.

“Whatever. I’m taking a walk.” Nevari turned on her heels and left the room in a huff.

When she was gone, Cassia let out a sigh of relief. It was bad enough that Melech had come unannounced, but to bring his sister? She knew Nevari hated her, she always had, and Cassia could say with certainty that her feelings were reciprocated. There had always been tension between the girls, but now they were stuck together. Bound together. And Melech wasn’t even worth it! Why had she agreed to help them.

Cassia traced her finger around the edge of the lid of one of her jars. She knew why she agreed to help them. As soon as she saw the human boy with them, she had made up her mind. Lying to Melech about the crystal would have hurt if she had done it all those years ago but now… now all she wanted was that boy.

She grabbed the jar she had been playing with and walked over to its proper shelf. As she was reaching to put it away, Nevari burst into the room. Cassia dropped the bottle and it shattered, sending coalfish livers in every direction imaginable.

“Okay, that’s it! I’ve had it up to here with you completely derailing my life! If you so much as take one more step near me I’m going to transport myself to the middle of the ocean and let us both—”

“Cassia.” The Ferie looked up at Nevari and realized there was true panic in her eyes.

“What is it?”

“I was walking around the grounds and a boy appeared in front of me out of nowhere. He screamed something at me in ancient tongue and then fell unconscious.” She lead Cassia over to the bedroom adjacent to her potions room and pointed to a lump on the bed. “I brought him here. Can you figure out what’s wrong with him?”

Cassia pinched the bridge of her nose. “So let me just get this straight, you brought a stranger that just appeared mysteriously in front of you and probably cursed you in some ancient language into my house? I have a lot of enemies, you know. He could combust at any second.”

Nevari stared at her in disbelief. “This boy needs help! So what if he is a message? He’s just a boy, someone else would have had to use him and you need to fix it. It’s not his fault you piss everyone off.” Her skin was a shade darker now. The deep purples reflected her anger and Cassia couldn’t help but feel slightly intimidated by the seven foot Daemon, not that she would ever show it of course.

“Fine.” She said through gritted teeth. “But if he explodes, you’re going down with me.” Cassia slowly approached the room the boy was in. Nevari had placed him on the bed in the corner of the room. He couldn’t have been older than Micah or Venali. His blonde hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat and though unconscious, his face was twisted in agony. His body shook and his muscles were tense. By now Cassia could tell no one had sent him to her on purpose. What he was suffering from was much worse than a warning someone would have been trying to send her.

“Stay with him.” She ordered Nevari before running out of the room to grab this and that to help him. When she returned, the boy had fallen still and Nevari gave her a worried look.

“He stopped so suddenly,” she explained. “I don’t know if that’s better or worse.”

Cassia shook her head in response. She dipped the creek reed in the healing honey a friend had given her and snapped it in front of the boys nose. He didn’t move.

“That’s the best I can do. The aromas created from the reed and the honey should have snapped him out of any comatose state. This is strong magic.” She grabbed a small sponge and dipped it into a jar full of water that had small, colorful flowers floating in it and wiped his brow. The water should be able to cleanse his mind of any magical influence but if the reed didn’t work, she doubted this would. When she finished, she sighed in defeat. This boy would probably be lost to them forever.

Cassia grabbed her things and started to shuffle Nevari out of the room, trying to figure out what to do with the body when he died. She could harvest the body parts. Maybe see what’s in his pockets or—

A commotion came from the bed. Nevari reacted in a second, pulling two throwing knives from her bracelet and stepped in front of Cassia. The Ferie put a hand on her arm before she could throw any of them when she realized what had happened. The boy was sitting up on the bed, staring at them with fear in his eyes.

Cassia slowly walked back over to him, hands up in surrender. “What do you want?” She asked. “Are you here to hurt us?”

“What? No! I-I” The boy grabbed his head in pain. When he looked up again at them, there were tears in his eyes. “Please I don’t know where I am.” Cassia was getting closer to him now and he didn’t make a move to stop her. Maybe the flower water did work after all. She couldn’t sense any magic on him anymore.

“Do you remember what happened to you?” Cassia sat on the bed next to him.

“No I only remember…” His eyes widened and he started to look frantically around the room. He didn’t seem to find what he was looking for because suddenly he was in her face screaming at her. “What did you do with her?” Cassia stood up in surprise at his sudden hostility. His face was red and fresh tears created new paths down his cheeks.

“Who? What are you talking about?” It was Nevari now, pointing her knife at his face.

“Where did you take her?” He cried. “Where’s Harper?”