Faerie was a word that Florian found rather onerous to bear.
As a half-faerie who grew up with humans and never met the real Faerie Elementalist, he did not know how to react once he encountered one, or even worse, if that faerie recognized him.
“Who…are you?”
At his question, that faerie released her hands surrounding him and took a step backward, but her hands rested on Florian’s shoulders.
“I know you have a lot of questions, but, oh my gosh—I’m so-so relieved that you are still alive,” she said in a bit of haste, and in an accent that he couldn’t quite place. “You’ve grown so tall for the last twelve years…even almost surpassed me.”
She put on that proud and relieved sort of smile, and Florian couldn’t help but wear a complicated expression that he could not control. Shocked, defensive, and sad were mixed into his features.
“I’m not your mother,” she stated with a sigh, as though she grasped his expression. “My name is Cithrel Sylrie, and I’m your mother’s younger sister.”
Florian narrowed his eyes and repeated the word mother, his stomach lurching, his mind starting to drown in questions.
Was it true—was she really her aunt, then? But why didn’t she look for him this whole time and leave him poor? Was it because he could not be an Elementalist? Was it because he had mana instead? And why now of all time? Especially after what had happened to Florian in less than a day?
Uncertainty and hatred unknowingly began filling him as well. He waited for further explanation from this faerie who claimed to be his aunt—his relative. But after ten seconds too long, no explanation was forthcoming, so he began instead.
“I don’t want to go to the faerie land,” he braced for a reply, his voice low and unwavering, yet his eyes were quite the opposite.
The faerie snorted and bit back a chuckle. “Did I mention something about bringing you to the faerie land?”
Florian was a bit taken aback. Then where to?
Cithrel stifled a chuckle at Florian’s skepticism, then lowered her gaze to examine Florian’s miserable appearance. She drew a long sigh, smiling and shaking her head in the process. “Perhaps we need to go to the temple before I bring you to your home,” she muttered, grinning wryly.
“Temple?” Florian raised his brows, and besides, my home?
“Of course, the temple—to find a healer. What will your father say if I bring you back with this appearance?” Cithrel let out a brief chuckle as if nothing in her words shocked Florian.
The word father felt frozen inside of him. Florian took a step back, his mouth agape, his brows furrowing, mind malfunctioning. He released her hands forcefully, unable to comprehend all of this sudden truth. Mother and Father…who abandoned me when I was a baby? He reviewed, grimacing.
“After all these years—why should I come to my father? Do you know Maman and my—”
“I know,” Cithrel cut him off, taking another step closer. Her eyes glazed in boldness. “Rebecca has done a great job raising you, but I am not in the place to tell you the reason and the truth.”
She knows Rebecca?
But before Florian could say anything, Cithrel continued.
“Florian, you don’t know your surname, don’t you?” she asked, with a crooked smile and one brow lifted.
Florian looked away at that question, huffing, unable to believe to being asked with that question.
A surname? Of course, not.
Even all the children who lived with him in Rebecca’s house never knew their surnames and parents. Florian had known himself as an orphan. Hence, surnames or even relatives were things that did not exist.
Swallowing hard, he tried to drag the words out, but his voice had deserted him. “Maman never gave me one, but I have considered myself part of Rivka’s family.”
Cithrel sketched a slight, understanding nod. “Well, everything will change from now on.” She paused and waited for Florian to look at her. “Therefore, I want you to forget everything that happened before we met. Everything. Just forget about Rebecca Rivka and the other children in that house and the incident in Arallean village.”
Cithrel’s words came out as if something she asked to forget was nothing serious. Nothing like an event that had literally changed Florian’s life where there was only a to-die and not-to-die choice.
Florian inhaled in incredulity, and anger quickly stirred within him. “What—you? You want me to forget the family I grew up with—just like that?” He seethed, his eyes welling up. How could I? Despite how much he hated his poor life, he loved Rebecca and the children so much. They were the family he grew up with. Taught him. Fed him. Comforted him. And loved him back.
Forgetting them? Especially when they died because of Florian?
Florian could never.
Cithrel sighed through her nose and cracked a half-smile. “It is for your own good, Florian. Your past has nothing to do with your future.” She grabbed Florian’s shoulder with a bit of pressure on each finger. “Forget them and follow me. If you are still left with questions, you will find the answer eventually.” Her voice sounded rather playful, but there was still a hint of seriousness.
Cithrel’s statement lapsed the surroundings into silence. Florian averted his gaze, grappling with his thought of thinking about the answer. Well, what options are left for me, anyway? As much as he hated the feeling of surrendering and obeying, he would hate it even more if his safety was still unclear.
After a moment to compose himself, Florian regarded Cithrel’s eyes again, holding them rather intensely, and asked, “And how can I trust you that I will be safe if I decide to follow you?”
Cithrel momentarily fell into silence, her face blank. But soon, something new fell across her face; she smiled enthusiastically, looking somewhat proud. “I know he would do an excellent job raising you,” she confessed in a low voice, with a chuckle coming after.
He? Florian squinted his eyes suspiciously.
Cithrel smiled at his expression—wide and satisfied.
“If you refuse to follow me, then where would you go, my dear nephew, Florian?” Cithrel challenged, raising her eyebrows and taking another step closer. “Do you have a certain destination? And aren't you aware of what kind of being you are to humans—especially while looking like this?”
Florian slowly dragged his head away from Cithrel, his throat constricted. Words seemed difficult to utter. Well, he actually had no answer to Cithrel’s question. It was true that he didn’t know where he should go, nor did he get any plan to do once he arrived in Arcsvere—a foreign place.
Of course, I don’t want to end up in a shelter for people without a legal identity. I’d be easily an outcast, especially because of my appearance, Florian pondered, biting his lower lip in frustration.
After the long silence passed, Florian turned to her, his features trying to look unshaken. “I will go with you,” he said in a low voice, but there was no defeat in his tone.
Looks like this is the only option I can choose—for now.
For whatever reason Cithrel met him in this dangerous forest and asked him to follow her—Florian considered this an opportunity that he couldn’t neglect. And he felt like he was facing a black pit he was unsure if it was a trap or not. But the only way to look for answers to everything that happened to him—his unclear background, Cithrel’s motives, and even the covert lies—was to find the answer by jumping into the pit himself.
It was the only choice to at least stay alive.
Cithrel exhaled with a grin. “Good.” She nodded in satisfaction. “Also, since you grew up with humans, you can lie, right?”
At that random question, Florian arched a brow, his head tilting to the side. “Y-yes?” He was unsure how to answer that question honestly.
Cithrel echoed the surroundings with her laughter. “This is one reason I should take you to your father instead of the faerie kingdom,” she murmured while snickering, “You are a half-faerie who has human mana, couldn’t control nature elemental, and can also lie when Faeries cannot lie.”
Florian gawked at Cithrel, wondering how he would know that faeries cannot lie while lying was as easy as breathing for him.
“Anyway, once your father begins to ask you questions—just play along, okay? I believe you can do it since you are a clever boy,” told Cithrel with a wink, then turned around with both hands resting on her hips.
Florian was way too comfortable in silence. In fact, he had no more ideas on how to respond; it was still difficult to comprehend all the sudden truths and news Cithrel poured onto him.
“So—are you ready to go? I will only escort you to the temple. Then you will go to your father with another escort,” she explained hastily, while Florian stood still like a statue, mouth slightly open.
As Cithrel stepped away, Florian blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
“If it’s not a faerie land, what about my ears and tail?”
Cithrel twisted again, and a smile on her face became more visible as the rosy color slowly replaced the dark sky, bringing along the warmth through the breeze. It was a warm smile, and Florian, for some reason, received the hint of its warmness.
“We use magic, of course.” She drew closer and reached for something from her pocket beneath her cloak. “Sigh. I almost forgot.” She took out a silver necklace with a golden gem pendant in the middle.
“What’s that?” Florian asked, then glimpsed the dark nymph flying around the necklace as if she was inspecting it too. But Cithrel didn’t seem to see the dark nymph. So, she had never seemed to have seen a cruel death—as Yves said?
Cithrel raised the necklace with both hands, showing the gem of the necklace closer to Florian. “There’s an ancient magic in the gem—faerie magic.” She put the necklace on Florian’s neck. “And there would be no sorcerer, even they are at Grand rank, can notice you are under disguise magic.”
As soon as the necklace was on his neck, it shone for a second and slowly disappeared. Either it fused into his body or just vanished. Florian couldn’t tell. But he did feel something strange allocating on his tail and ears, so his hand quickly reached his now human ears and the void in his tailbone.
Oh, they are gone.
Florian felt rather sad.
“But what if I want them back?”
Cithrel grinned and ruffled his red hair once. “Just touch your chest and call it out. It simply responds to you, a faerie. Just like how it immediately changes your ears and tail.”
‘You still look the same, handsome, so don’t be sad.’
‘What a revolution! The weird half-fae has evolved into a human! Now, time for destruction!’
Ignoring the nature spirits, Florian lifted his gaze and saw Cithrel’s back instead. He had a few more questions that still bothered him, but then Cithrel’s loud whistle kept him from asking.
With her soft whistle, the wind blew harder, and the roaring sound from the sky invited him to bring his chin upward. Florian looked upon the sky and caught the sight of the horse-like beast approaching downwards towards them with a huge pair of wings.
“First time seeing Devaux?” Cithrel glanced at Florian over her shoulder.
“This big, yes.”
Florian studied the beast that looked similar to a horse and Pegasus from Mirad, but Devaux was a carnivore with dark freckled skin and canine teeth. It had gray eyes, blank with no pupils. Its thick and leathery wings were twice as wide as its body.
Cithrel’s Devaux was bigger than the one he saw in the forest three years ago.
[Special Identification lv. 1]
Race
Devaux
HP
4300/4450
Strength
57
Dark MP
1020/1300
Of course, Devaux is a dark-attributed beast from Darkland, Florian justified inwardly.
“This is Jasper. I have raised it since he was born, and now he is almost three hundred years old.” She patted the tamed Jasper, and Jasper nickered—yes, just like a horse. “What a good boy.”
Three hundred years? Florian turned to Cithrel and kept his curiosity to himself, then mounted Jasper as Cithrel told him.
The sun had finally represented itself, warming everything its shine touched. But it was still vividly cold as Florian rode Jasper flying through the sky, with the wind whispering in his ears and fluttering his cloak in the air.
***
After about an hour of flying in the sky, Cithrel instructed Jasper to land where many statues, carved walls, and huge ponds resided. It was indeed a beautiful place, even when viewed from above.
There weren’t many people around the clearing, and Cithrel headed down to the lone woman sweeping the ground.
“Lady Cithrel, it’s been a while,” greeted a priestess reluctantly, with a broom in her hand.
When Jesper was about to land, its wings fluttered hard, and the savage wind blew away everything: the priestess’s white robe, her dark hair, and mounts of leaves and flower petals on the ground.
That priestess held back a sigh and dropped her shoulder. “Good morning,” came through a groan.
Even though she greeted them again, her face was as gloomy as an overcast sky that to descend a great storm.
It seemed Cithrel’s arrival just ruined her morning.
“Sorry, Martha.” Cithrel’s voice was sweet. At least, she tried to sound sweet.
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Her faerie's ears had transformed into human’s as she arrived. Florian was next to him, with a hood covering his head—this was more of a habit whenever he was around humans, albeit he no longer had pointed ears and a tail.
Martha, the priestess, tried so hard to hold a wry look as she looked at Cithrel, who had a beaming smile.
“I’m kind of jealous of what makes you have such a smile early in the morning,” Martha spoke to Cithrel, then clucked her tongue, annoyance clear in both her face and voice. As she turned to the boy in a torn cloak and visible wounds, she asked, “Looking for a healer?”
“And a washroom,” added Cithrel, and turned to Florian. “I shall excuse myself now—since the carriage that will take you to your father is already on its way.”
Florian raised his chin in a surprised gesture, dropping his hood. “Wait, but I still have some questions, Lady—"
Cithrel’s chuckle stopped him from resuming his words. “Just call me Cithrel, and do drop the honorific.” She moved her gaze from Florian to Martha, who now had her eyes on Florian. “Martha, please—he is still twelve. Don’t you dare to look at him like that.”
Cithrel knew Martha, who was better known as the mad priestess and had a habit of flirting with beautiful men or women. And Florian could easily be on her top list now.
Martha snorted and drifted her drowsy gaze away, her finger swaying in Florian’s direction. “Don’t be joking. There’s no way a twelve-year-old boy could have such height.”
“You are just short in your age,” returned Cithrel, masking her face with disgust. “Besides, you will be surprised when you know his identity,” she uttered sternly, shaking her head, and then shifted to Florian again. “Martha will take care of you from now on, and you ought to show this to anyone who asks your identity when you are at your father’s place.”
She casually handed him a letter with a golden plaque carved with a shield and two swords crossed between the wings. It was clearly an official symbol. And a golden plaque was something people could not easily carry as though it was a mere one.
Frowning, Florian observed the fancy letter and thought of seeing a similar symbol before, but he couldn’t tell what exactly it was. In fact, it wasn’t all the matter. Why did she give him a letter only to meet his father? As if his father didn’t even know that he existed. As if his existence so far had never been sought.
Doubts began to fill his heart, dwelling to keep out confidence.
“I’ll come over to have a drink with you,” Cithrel told Martha, who couldn’t seem to digest the situation: the unknown handsome boy, a letter with a golden plaque, and her best friend, Cithrel.
But she was ignorant, so she tore away her curiosities quickly.
“We shall meet again, Florian, but for now, clean up yourself and get ready.” Cithrel winked at him at the end of her words.
Without waiting for an answer, Cithrel put on her hood and mounted Jasper. The wind roared again as Jasper flew towards the sky.
“Florian, is it?” Martha voiced, inspecting Florian’s appearance once again. “Are you really twelve?”
Florian restrained his disinterested look as he turned to Martha.
“Yes, I’m twelve—a minor.” His answer was stern, with a gaze saying, I’m still underage, so don’t flirt with me.
Martha let out a long sigh. “Follow me,” she said forlornly after throwing the broom in her hand away, leaving the messy ground.
***
In this world, humans were naturally born with both Mana and Aura.
Sorcerers were humans who could control their magical power (Mana) after awakening it around the age of five to fifteen. Usually, the earlier, the stronger. Although some sorcerers awakened their mana after age fifteen, their mana power would be relatively weak, and they could barely cast any Mane-stage magic circle (the simplest). And Mage was a title for a more skilled sorcerer in Spiritual/Mystical Arts.
As for Warrior—the knight who could control Aura or Ki (called Ki in the east)—usually had to go through strenuous training for painstaking years to awaken their Aura. But there were some rare cases where some individuals could awaken their Aura easier and earlier due to heredity or luck. Therefore, the population of Warriors was not that much compared to Sorcerers. But Warriors were undoubtedly powerful.
Then, what about healers?
Healer was the rarest one to be born among humans, as they were born with divine power—a power of the God that could heal any injuries and the natural enemy of any dark power, including dark mana. Therefore, humans born with this gift, divine power, would be respected and lived in the temple as a priest or priestesses—or Saint, the highest rank of a healer—as their power was considered a holy blessing.
But the moody lady, who escorted Florian, had no divine power.
Florian glanced at her stats while following her.
[Special Identification lv.1]
Name
Martha
Race
Human
HP
2400/2430
Strength
18
Mundane, he commented silently before shifting his focus back to the view of the temple.
Kyrios temple was the prime shrine of Arcsvere and was located in Oakshfire, the northern region of Arcsvere known for its beautiful beaches and cheap fish sticks.
Nothing unusual about the temple—though it was the first time Florian visited one—and nothing in the Kyrios temple was unattractive. Every entry was carved panels, decorative architraves, glass awning, and gilded carvings. The marble floor—which Florian could tell was from Toamnia—was spotless. On both sides, there were many pillars and unique statues with a significant history behind them, but Florian could not bother to know or ask since he wasn’t a religious person in the first place.
Life is unfair as it is. I’m too busy to care for my issues to spare a second of my time dedicating myself to God.
And there were only a few priests or priestesses wandering around, or could it be because it was still early?
“There was a festival yesterday in Klerton, so most of the priests and priestess are still staying there,” said Martha, as though she could feel Florian’s curious stare. “What’s your relationship with Cithrel, anyway?” She slowed her pace and glanced at him.
“I believe she has told you she would come over and have a drink with you, so you may learn directly from her,” answered Florian, which made Martha scoff in disbelief.
“You are quite something,” Martha tossed a short reply, definitely with lots of meaning behind it that Florian didn’t even want to know. “And dear, I really fancy your eyes—it’s natural, isn’t it?”
Florian’s nod was unmindful. He rarely got compliments about his eyes, which he rather hated because most people he met thought his eyes were scary and intense to look at.
“Similar to that bitch—Cithrel’s,” grumbled Martha, viciously chuckling afterward. “But yours certainly is better.” And she cast a wink to Florian.
Florian held back a cringed look and averted his eyes, unwilling to give any further response.
“Ah, apologies, kid. Do you perhaps feel uncomfortable to be with a priestess like me?” questioned Martha, in a voice as if she was aware of her inappropriate behavior to be a priestess.
How could someone like her—even without a divine power—call herself a priestess?
Holding a grimace, Florian’s reply was short and indifferent. “None of my concern, apparently.”
Martha smiled mysteriously. “I know—I like you. If only you were at least seven years older, I’d ask you to sleep with me tonight,” she chuckled cheekily and quickened her pace.
Auh, my ears. Covering his ears with both hands, Florian kept his distance from Martha.
Entering another hall entrance, a water fountain welcomed him in the middle, and the fragrance of floral, humid leaves, and moist soil pampered his nose. Various plants surrounded the hall, and large windows served as walls of this hall and a light source for this indoor garden.
This indoor garden, however, was truly exceptional.
Is a garden like this necessary in a temple? Florian wondered—not that he was against it.
Florian passed the water fountain and glimpsed many koi fishes from the Irnakalshi Empire: a place he really wanted to visit once. Shifting his gaze from the fountain, his eyes caught the sight of a man showing his back, and his unusually long white hair that fell past his knees, unraveled. Although their footsteps echoed the hall quite clearly, that man seemed to keep his focus on watering the plants.
“Gaurleen,” called Martha softly, her voice easily echoing through this indoor garden.
The white-haired priest straightened the water can, stopping it from pouring water.
“What a unique kid,” began Gaurleen in a murmur, then spun around to face Florian and Martha. He had both eyes covered with a white blindfold. “Who are you, boy?” he asked, breezing towards them.
Florian drew in a shallow breath as the question was still embedded in his ears.
Who am I?
It wasn’t the first time he heard that question. But after reviewing all that had happened to him in less than a day, he was unsure about himself and found the question quite difficult to answer.
[The system discovered a strong divine power from the individual.]
[The divine power has been detected if it possibly can bring threat.]
[Would you like to lock the Dark Mana temporarily?]
Absolutely.
[Dark Mana is temporarily locked.]
[The system is processing to identify the individual.]
[The system has failed to identify.]
[The system is processing to identify the individual.]
[The system is processing to identify the individual.]
Ignoring the system that frantically identified the eyeless priest, Florian broke into a cold sweat but still strived to look calm. He wasn’t scared but somewhat confused and nervous to see the system having difficulty identifying only one person.
“I ask again, who are you, boy?”
That simple question left Florian with a strange feeling because of how pure and pleasant Gaurleen’s voice was.
“My name is Florian.” He managed to drag the words out, and it was the only answer he was sure of himself.
[Special Identification lv.1]
Name
Unknown
Race
Human (?)
HP
2800/2800
Strength
20
Divine Power
Undetermined
Undetermined? Is he perhaps a god?
Florian slightly furrowed his brow at the table screen floating above Gaurleen’s head, uneasy. Then Martha’s fake cough snapped him back.
“Gaurleen-Gaurleen? Good morning—so this is Florian. And Florian, this is Gaurleen. End of the introduction. Any questions? Of course, not—I don’t accept any questions right now. But yeah, Gaurleen, Cithrel asked me to heal him and let him bathe here before someone picks him up later,” she explained, strangely fast, loud, and straightforward. While Gaurleen just nodded in understanding despite Martha’s quick and weird explanation.
“Interesting,” Gaurleen commented through his weak smile. “And ought to have a sit while I heal you.”
Martha nudged Florian to follow Gaurleen heading towards a bench in that garden hall. Gaurleen had comfortably sat on the long bench, and his palm tapped the seat, gesturing Florian to sit next to him.
“I won’t ask any question,” he continued, “maybe I will—in our next meeting.”
Next meeting? Why would I see you again? Florian tightened his lips to ensure he didn’t blurt out the wild response in his head.
Managed to have a flat and calm expression, Florian sat on that bench and faced the eyeless priestess who gave the holy atmosphere around him. Then he ventured to glance at Gaurleen, who was striking despite the blindfold covering his eyes, having slender wrists as though they could break if you gripped them too hard, and a sense of the wisdom of an old person—as if he had lived through many experiences, centuries, or so. Florian could not really tell.
“Anyhow, it can be you who will be the first to ask questions at our next meeting.” Gaurleen showed him a brief, questionable smile, and Florian was too anxious to find words as the answer.
Florian cleared his dry throat, trying to compose his nervous self. “Sure…”
Gaurleen smiled faintly as he started emitting light from his palm. His divine power was the lightest shade of blue and flowed seamlessly through the wounds on Florian’s body, giving off chilly and soothing energy.
Florian felt all his wounds slowly heal, and his stamina recovered—as though all the positive feelings overcame him. But this soothing feeling made his eyelids grow heavier. He suddenly felt drowsy.
Was it always this gratifying to be healed by divine power?
Florian began to consider returning if he got injured in the future.
“All done.” Gaurleen folded back his long, thin fingers. “It seems you have pretty good resistance to poisons.”
Florian vetted his body, which was no longer painted with dark lines of the poisonous cobwebs. All his bruises and cuts were gone as well, except for old scars, of course.
Amazing. He looked at Gaurleen with both amazement and thankful. “Thank you."
Gaurleen sketched a smile. “This is actually my first time in eight years to heal someone,” he replied, rising to his feet.
“Excuse me? Uhm, why?”
But Martha answered the question instead.
“Because he is too old to heal people.” Martha almost choked on a laugh. “Afraid of losing his mighty divine power, he chose to sleep for eight years to be able to live longer.”
Either her words were valid or only a joke, Florian honestly wondered.
Gaurleen clucked at Martha. “Are you done cleaning the yard, Martha?”
Martha flinched and hastily grabbed Florian’s arm, dragging him with her. “Anyway, I should show this young man a place to bathe now. See you later, Grandpa,” she squeaked without looking back, leaving the indoor garden as if being chased by a wild dog.
Grandpa? Curious, Florian flicked his eyes toward Gaurleen. But a chill ran down his spine after catching Gaurleen’s odd smile, so he returned his gaze and shook his head, shoving the odd feeling away.
Florian changed his mind and would try his best not to get hurt or revisit this place.
***
In the guest bathroom, Florian submerged his body in the lukewarm water, only his head on the surface. After finally achieving one of his dreams—to soak in an expensive bathtub like the riches—he thought that bathing in a clear river with flowing cold water was better than this.
But this is not bad at all, he confessed inwardly.
Be that as it may, he could finally relax his chaotic mind after all the strange incidents. With his mind now less muddled, he sorted things out one by one and thought a little about the future.
Who was his father? What kind of person was he? What should he say after he met his father? And many more.
Feeling tangled with all the questions in his mind, he asked for his stats.
Statistic
Player
Florian (12)
Level
2
Class
Warlock (tier I)
Race
Faerie/Human
Rank
Mugler III
Title
The Coward Warlock
Experience Point
15,25%
Hit-Point
3000/3000
Strength
26
Endurance
21
Mana Power
880/2800
Charisma
30
Wisdom
21
Dark Mana Power
Locked
Dexterity
25
Intelligence
18
“Unlock the dark mana.”
[Unlocking Dark Mana.]
[Dark Mana is unlocked.]
“Stats.”
Statistic
Player
Florian (12)
Level
2
Class
Warlock (tier I)
Race
Faerie/Human
Rank
Mugler III
Title
The Coward Warlock
Experience Point
15,25%
Hit-Point
3000/3000
Strength
26
Endurance
21
Mana Power
880/2800
Charisma
30
Wisdom
21
Dark Mana Power
1450/2800
Dexterity
25
Intelligence
18
After almost a day of having the system, Florian concluded it was simply managing his power and measuring it by numbers. And, of course, it was evidently an avail for him because it helped him use his powers more easily, involving no complicated runes. He only had to control it more efficiently and raise the level.
I guess I need to fight more monsters to level up?
He dipped his head at the thought of returning to the Forest of Gluttony. Fighting required a lot of physical movement, which he hated other than getting hurt.
Why can’t I level up by sleeping or eating instead?
“Life is so hard.”
Indeed, it was so hard. Especially for a twelve-year-old half-fae boy, who now had human characteristics, with a vague future awaiting him, unsolved mysteries binding him, and untreated griefs tailing him behind.
He could not be unguarded. Not at all.