I’m sure everyone’s heard of a legendary location. El Dorado… Atlantis… the Fountain of Youth. They exist in every world and get passed down from generation to generation.

Well, when I rode Emael up the Callasan Mountain and entered that illusionary barrier, I found one of such locations. It was a mythical forest that I would struggle to put into words.

It appeared to be the size of a football field, but the space was magical. White trees with pink leaves spread out like aspens and small rivers spread through them as if it were a zen garden filled with perfectly clipped bonsais. In the center was a large walkway with stones that had been cut and stacked together like tiles, but there were drawings in them, as if someone had cut millions of pieces of rock and stacked them together in beautiful patterns.

I wasn’t sure where to look. Part of me was drawn by the almost supernatural order to the path, but the other part was looking at the areas lining the walkway. There were patches of various fruits and vegetables and herbs and flowers, each five squared feet with perfect precision, separated by white stone walls.

This has to be a garden, I thought.

It is, Emael answered after reading my thoughts.

Who’s garden?

Emael looked up. Theirs.

I looked up into the trees and caught the sight of wings flying past as creatures moved between the branches and leaves. They did an excellent job at hiding, and I was certain that some blended with active camouflage, but I caught a glimpse of a human head on a tiny body flying past a section of leaves.

Who are they?

Drokai. I’m sure you will have another name for them.

They look like fairies, I thought—

—and I was right. Mostly.

At the end of the path was a thick wall of bushes split in the middle, like a fifty-foot hedge maze. Before we reached it, a group of creatures met us.

A few were, in fact, fairies or pixies by definition. They looked just like me or Aiden, but they were around a foot tall, putting them at the size of a doll. If one were sitting on my shoulder, their head would be in a perfect spot to lean in and whisper to me.

But not all of our greeters were fairies. Some were vaguely human and smaller, the size of chicken hatchlings, and they had green skin and faces that looked like they were human faces, half-sculpted before refining details. Another set was gold, the size of large dragonflies without notable human features but flying and controlling themselves as an intelligent species.

All of them had the makin’s for cute beings, but all of them were hostile and chilling, radiating pressure that greatly outstripped my own.

What have you done? a male fairy asked Emael, back straight in his green and silver armor.

I’m here to see Nethralis, she said dismissively.

He sneered and looked at me with a chilling stare that made me feel cold and helpless and alone. Kline’s fur bristled, and he stood a strong front. We both knew the situation was bad.

You know who this is, don’t you? he said as he looked at me.

I do.

You mean to tell me that you know who this is, and yet you break our laws and bring her here?

She is Brindle’s student.

I know. He told us.

A cold electricity crackled around my skin, making me shiver.

Emael narrowed her eyes at the tenseness.

Then that should be enough.

It is not. Our reliance upon Brindle ended long ago.

You’re not relying, Mira. You’re utilizing. The elixir.

I pulled off my backpack and retrieved my last soul elixir—the first one he made. When the man saw it, he flew to it cautiously.

“You can open it,” I said.

He did with both, and when he smelled what was sealed within, he looked at me with aggressive eyes. Where did you find this?

I made it.

No. Not this trash. The flower!

Don’t say a word. Emael ordered, releasing soul pressure that made him sneer.

You would seriously use this as a bargaining chip? We can save it. We can—

It is not for sale. If Brindle did not entrust it to you, neither will I.

But you will entrust it to her?

I didn’t entrust it to her. I doubt Brindle did, either. Now take us to Nethralis.

His nose scrunched in as he looked at the elixir. For this trash… he tapped the glass jar and released it in my hands. Unbelievable.

I tightened the jar and stored it, trying to keep my cool. Once I was done, he spoke to the other fairies and creatures before snorting and turning to the wall and waving his hand.

Suddenly, the entire bushy wall came to life and it unraveled like a tapestry, untying hundreds of plants that had locked together like clock parts, and when it opened, I saw the most beautiful sight of my life.

There was a blue pond that radiated with energy between a circle of trees. Each had trunks thirty feet in diameter, and they were carved into a city in the skies. Fairies and other species flew from one tree to the next, like flying cars, going into different rooms and buildings, or stopping to sit on the leaves or vines.

Fairies washed clothing in the pond or swam or lounged on lily pads in the water as others tended rows of flowers and fungi that circled the area. Beyond that was a structure far larger than the rest, a normal human-sized house that was made of plants and roots that had gnarled into an enchanting building.

Move, the man said.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

I turned and saw the path had sifted directions, walking on the perimeter of the forest, avoiding the city that I could stare at for hours. I nodded, and Kline led the way, moving beside Emael, who walked straight to the home.

Is this a castle? I asked.

Emael smiled strangely. No. It’s been empty for many years. She walked behind the home, and I found a pavilion similar to the alchemy station, with a three-foot fence around the perimeter but an open-air section housing a table and seating and tea cups for four.

The strange part was the chairs themselves—they were human.

Sit.

I followed Emael’s instructions, sitting at the table as Kline sat on the steps, staring toward the house and city—waiting. It was elegant white wood that seemed like porcelain, nothing I could imagine on Earth. I tried to identify it and realized that my guide wasn’t working.

That was for the best.

I stared off into dead space with an aching nervousness until I heard fluttering. I turned and found a single fairy flying toward us. She was beautiful, sporting red hair and a gold and white dress that fluttered in the air. It seemed strange to see one approach us, but when she entered the pavilion, I understood why. A massive negative barrier developed around us, as if we had been swallowed and then spread out, turning the world black and white. Then, the color returned to normal as it retracted, sticking to the pavilion’s boundaries as if it were an elastic band snapping into place.

“Forgive me, Emael,” the fairy I would soon know as Nethralis said to the River Guardian outside the barrier. “If I didn’t take such a precaution, Zyphrael would demand you both die as a security measure.”

The fairy smirked, and I did the same, even though I was fighting to breathe in her presence.

It’s fine, Emael replied, proving that she could hear and speak without barrier.

“Now then…” Nethralis turned to me with an amused smile that betrayed her regal air. She looked more like a Greek goddess than a pixie. If I didn’t watch her pull flower pedals the size of her hands out of a purse, I would be convinced that I was just seeing her in the distance. “We can’t possibly have a proper meeting without tea,” she said.

“It’s fine… uh… can you understand me?” I asked.

“Everything you’ve seen, and that’s what you ask?” she asked amusedly as she filled the cups with hot water that she summoned from thin air.

“No… it’s just… My Guide usually translates. I’m… worried it’s still working.”

She raised an eyebrow but then smiled and continued working, grinding petals and leaves. “Don’t worry.” She whipped her hand, and a myriad of colors blended together, splitting apart and landing into two steaming cups. “We translated thoughts long before the Oracle existed,” she said, “and we will do it long after it falls.”

“I see…”

“Now tell me about you, student of Brindle.” She stood before her cup and sat on its rim, throwing me off balance. I grabbed my cup and pulled it close.

“Well… um… I’m not sure what there is to say. A few months ago, I was integrated into this forest, and I've mostly been trying to survive.”

“I’m not asking who you are,” Nethralis narrowed her eyes dangerously, tapping her finger against her porcelain cup. “I want to know what you’re doing here.”

“I didn’t even know this place exist—”

“In the forest.”

“Oh… the gods destroyed my planet. During the integration, they asked where I wanted to go. I asked to be sent to an isolated forest where I could live off the land and wouldn’t have to participate in all this… god nonsense.”

“And you got sent here?”

“Yeah.”

“To Areswood Forest.”

I nodded. “Still bitter about it.”

Nethralis stopped tapping her finger and smiled. “Of course you are.” She jumped off her cup, walked to mine, grabbed the handle, and dragged it back with tiny feet. Then she flicked her hand, and her cup floated to me.

I frowned as I looked at my new cup. I wasn’t sure what was in it, but I sure as hell wouldn’t drink it.

“See?” she asked. “One strange action… one misguided sentence… one lie can turn a friendly gesture into a battleground of mistrust. Let me ask you, Mira. Will you ever trust these cups, even if I switch their places again?”

“How do you know my name?”

“Answer me.”

I looked at the cup bitterly. She was accusing me of poisoning our meeting with lies, but I didn’t lie.

“I won’t,” I said. “I don’t think I’ll ever trust what’s in these cups.”

“Then why should I trust your friendly gesture? This meeting?”

I bit my lip.

Because she’s not lying, Emael said.

Nethralis paused thoughtfully. “I find that very hard to believe. You can still see, can’t you?”

She didn’t have a core three months ago. I saw her the day she arrived.

“I see… so she just survived this forest alone, created two cores, and achieved this level of purity?”

I will not repeat myself.

“Then tell me how.”

Ask her.

Nethralis turned to me. “How?”

“Yakana…” I said earnestly. “He helped me build my cores… Elana, my alchemist patron helped me to create cleansing elixirs. Brindle… helped me with soul magic.”

“You have two patrons?”

“Yes.”

“And one’s an alchemist?”

“Yes.”

“And they want resources and to sell goods?”

“Yes.”

Nethralis gripped the rim of her cup with a reverse grip. “Tell me, student of Brindle. Do you know what’s happening outside these walls?”

My lips trembled, and I looked away. “Thorvel says there’s an army out there.”

Nethralis paused. “Thorvel told you that?”

“Yeah. Wants to kill me to end it.”

“And he didn’t?”

“We have a deal.”

“What’s the deal?”

I leaned my elbow against the table and my forehead in my palm. “Yakana wants me to become a guardian. Brindle requires me to be a guardian for their patronage. Thorvel wants me to prove I can be a guardian. I have three weeks to prove that—or he’ll kill me.”

Nethralis pondered my words. “How can you prove it?”

I grabbed my tea cup by reflex and shrugged. “I don’t know… I reached out to Brindle yesterday. Hopefully he’ll have an answer.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

I pondered that question on my many hours of travel to the city of fairies, and I only came up with one potential answer.

“Brindle asked me to rid the river of lignan bugs. As a reward, he gave me access to a sacred location. If… I don’t have any choice… I’ll go there.”

Nethralis frowned. “What’s it called?”

I thought about whether to tell her. The location wasn’t recorded and Lithco told me not to share it with others, but at the same time, this location wasn’t marked, either. Time was short, and trust was desperate, so I decided to tell her.

“Lake Nyralith.”

Her eyes widened, and then her lips curved into a twisted smile. Emael also stood and turned to me.

“What?” I asked.

“He must either trust your skills without distinction…” Nethralis’s eyes narrowed. “Or he wants you dead.”

My stomach dropped.

Brindle does not deceive, Emael said.

Nephalis pondered it and then nodded. “Suppose that’s true.”

So?

The fairy tapped her finger against the rim of the cup she was sitting on. Then she looked at me. “You’ve somehow earned the trust of Brindle, Yakana, and Emael. And since you have a deal with Thorvel, you must’ve earned his trust to a degree, too… So I’ll trust you. But… I will not protect you. If Thorvel chooses to kill you, I will not aid you in that war.”

I looked down at the cup in my hands. Somehow, it was still warm.

“That said, I will help you meet his challenge.”

I looked up hopefully.

“If… we can trust one another.” Nethralis pointed at the cup. “Because if you want to go to Lake Nyralith… you’ll need to drink that."