I frown.

  “… You must never believe his lies, and you must always carry a weapon of cold iron. Find out the secrets about the seal that binds him and use them against him. That would be the only way to defeat him.”

  “I thought fairies didn't lie.”

  “We don't lie. But because we can't lie, we create ways of doing it without actually doing it. That's why you shouldn't believe their words—even if they're all true.”

  “I see. Thanks for the tips. I need to find it, do you know where it is?”

  Morgana sits down on the grass and points to the horizon. “To the west, in the Black Forest, although I don't know the exact location of his seal. Over time, Aldwyn learned to use it to his advantage, to conceal his presence with magic, and he turned his prison into a trap.” She says, then turns to me. “If I may, it's not worth it.”

  Aldwyn. The more I repeat the name, the more familiar it seems. Invading the Unknown, he opened the heavens and showed me what lies on the other side of the veil I created to protect myself—the structure that orders Chaos within nightmares I can understand. Hundreds of other dreams, worlds and steps from which my mind can wander—hundreds of thousands of demons it can perceive.

  The encounter had changed me, but not for long. I feel the Unknown fighting back, regaining control millimeter by millimeter.

  “I know I'm being manipulated, but I have no other choice. Aldwyn has the answers I need, even if I have to get them from him.”

  “Aldwyn may be the most notable danger, but he's not the only one you have to worry about. You're like a candle in the middle of the night in a world of moths. If you truly want to destroy Aldwyn, you'll need help, and the initial plan of returning to the village to train on your own won't be enough.”

  “And why did you tell me to go back?”

  “Because it's better than nothing.”

  “I have to start somewhere, don't I?”

  “It's a miracle you were able to use magic in the first place, let alone evolve by banging your head against a wall like you do now. If a bunch of functional illiterates can't help you use basic magic, let alone defeat Aldwyn.” Morgana says. “But you don't have to. I'm here, after all.”

  I approach her. “Can you help me?”

  She smiles. Not like the first smiles, full of humorous lightness. No, this smile was small and made her squint her eyelids, fix her gaze on mine like a scalpel and drive it through me as powerfully as a stake.

  “Sieghart, darling…” She says, lobotomizing me with her voice as much as with her gaze. “I told you fairies hate being in debt, didn't I?”

  My heart skipped a beat. Maybe it was the beauty, but there was something else. Danger. My body isn't exhausted enough, but I feel as if a drop of sweat is running down my sore cheek.

  “What do I need to do?”

  “Imprisoned like Aldwyn, my power is limited. The mana I used to heal you and to manifest myself comes from the power I accumulated to be able to free myself in the future. I see that won't happen anymore. Soon, I'll be a stone statue again. I want you to stop that.”

  I close my eyes. “I'll set you free, and you'll help me in return?”

  “Precisely. However, you're too weak to free me, and we don't have the time for that. Instead, let's do it differently: using what power I have left, I'll transfer the seal that binds me to you. I'll help you against Aldwyn, and you'll work your life away dedicated to freeing me from yourself.”

  Sealing a fairy in yourself. An idea so absurd that it could only have been uttered out of relentless desperation—that it could only be accepted by an equally absurd person.

  “It's the only way we can stay close, isn't it? You can't leave the lake on your own, can you?”

  “Not for long.”

  “Tell me, how much of this did you plan?”

  She rests both hands on her chin.

  “Everything.”

  I frown. A part of me that I didn't know existed feels uncomfortable—an itch inside my chest that goes numb and becomes flaccid.

  Morgana closes her eyes and returns to the state when we first met. “I mean you no harm, Sieghart. What I said may have been planned, but it was sincere. Among humans, you are the one I like the most. I have paid my debt and, in the face of your death, I can help you—but I would be useless trapped in this Lake.” She says. “So why not combine the useful with the pleasant? Why wouldn't you, so noble, save a damsel in distress?”

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  I look away, then face her. “Would you?”

  She narrows her eyes. “Why do you doubt me, Sieghart? Me, who helped you so much when you needed it most?”

  I see. Your words have some effect on me. Some emotion or other, hidden behind the apathy I've always tried to overcome, is tossed around like a doll. I'm not sure if this is a spell or an innate characteristic of a fairy and her beauty.

  “What are you going to do when you're free?”

  “… Well, you've already achieved your goal by then. What does it matter?”

  I frown. “What are you going to do when you're free?”

  Morgana stops. She spits out a laugh, then crawls closer to my face.

  “Revenge. What are you going to do about it?”

  I inhale, then stand up and clean my clothes. I get ready to leave, but Morgana gets up too.

  “Tell me, Sieghart, why should it matter to you what I do? Don't the wicked deserve divine wrath? Can't I do justice against those who imprisoned me for an eternity in this Lake?”

  Just like Aldwyn's case, even though I know I'm being manipulated, I don't see any other way out. It's an apparent characteristic of fairies to adorn reality with the words they want.

  “… Justice is different from revenge. How many innocents will suffer because of you?”

  I clench my fists, but Morgana grabs my hand before I can go.

  “If you set me free, it won't cause evil, but merely allow it to happen. I don't deny my position. I want revenge against my sisters. Against those who chained me for doing the right thing.” She says. “But there is no evil that occurs in this world without a greater good being taken from it. What happens to your village when you fail to gather the best men to attack Aldwyn? When you fail to fight him without my help? When you are too weak to do so?”

  “… I— I promised that—”

  “You promised you wouldn't fall. I'm here to help you with that. What will happen when you don't get the answers you so desperately want?”

  I feel something squirm inside me. A dead part of me that had never felt warm was suddenly set on fire. Perhaps fate would unfold so that I would succeed alone. Maybe this was a test from the divine. Maybe not.

  “You need me. You come to me when you need to be heard; when you want to say what others can't hear. You need me to be able to sleep.”

  I turn to Morgana and face her. She offers me her hand. “Come. I will bring you peace.”

  She towers over me.

  Yet again, I clench my fists, harder than before. Trying to beat a fairy at its own game is pointless. The arguments are correct, but only if I can work with them. How her revenge would play out or how big it would be, those are things I can't predict—things she certainly won't tell me.

  A gamble, to say the least. One that my eyes can't see through.

  Hesitantly, I open my hand. She wraps it around me and squeezes it, the symbol of an agreement forming between the two. I open my eyes wide as I feel the supernatural power move through my insides.

  A faint blue glow envelops the fairy's body, making her smiling face disappear like mist. She surrounds me, clinging to the arm that was once sealed by the village rune. She repaints it with her own color, expanding all over my arm as if to consume it. Lines and symbols, as beautiful and intertwined as if they were melting jewels into my flesh.

  The earth shakes, and the lake creates waves like the sea. The grass floats, invisible pressure takes over as if something horrible has been done.

  I fall to my knees, my legs are shaking. I breathe in, lightly. The ecstasy of evil fades as quickly as it was made. My eyes flutter, and my heart beats like it hasn't in a long time. First, the denial of wanting to go back in time and refuse the pact. Then, the realization of what I had done.

  Perhaps I betrayed my conscience so that all temptation would end more quickly, knowing that it would. Perhaps I could regret the decision, knowing that I made it merely because forgiveness is easier than resistance.

  But these aren't the whole truth, and the trap of paranoia won't win over me so easily. Maybe they're right, of course—that's why paranoia is so dangerous—but it's not worth exploring. To prevent this, another perhaps arises: that I could shrug and ignore the consequences of the act because, after all, it's already been done.

  I spit out a laugh. It's so easy to be your own enemy. The fairy has barely been locked in my body, and I've realized that manipulating the outcome and distorting the medium is always a great way to get charming words.

  I stand up. I don't think I made the wrong decision. If I did, I did it with good intentions. This would be the 'excuse' I would use to calm down, if that's what my mind wants to call it.

  I point to my staff and, manipulating the wind, bring it to me. Here, in the uncorrupted oasis that is the natural glade of the Fairy Lady's Lake, the blue glow consumes my vision and forges a pact with the fairy who has always watched me.

  Without understanding all the implications of what had happened, I looked around the clearing once more and then turned towards the forest.

  ***

  Dufae. Now I see the reference in the village’s name. Our ancestors knew that there wasn't just one sealed fairy in the forests. Surrounded by them, they also knew of the dangers that dwelt in the woods—far greater than those of today. In order to survive, they focused on hospitality and service to the most important villages and on taking care of the gifts they received from them.

  This zeal is shown against me, the target of spears and swords by the entire fleet of soldiers separating me from the village. Equipped with what little steel armor they have, the soldiers stare at me, slightly trembling.

  The flashes must have warned them. Then there was the fact that Elron appeared passed out in front of the village. At the latest, the creature's carcass in the forest and the ambient damage complemented the belief of danger. Nothing could be fairer than using all your strength to try to destroy an infiltrator.

  Arlong Ainsworth, head of the village and Elron's father, stands among the soldiers, protected by the formation. He has long white hair and a chubby, heavy frame, but with muscles that could crush the skull of a small man like me. Lugnir, the only magic blade in the village, glows faintly blue in his hand.

  “You.” He said, his voice hoarse and powerful. “What have you done?!”

  “I saved your village. But you won't believe that, of course.”

  He grits his teeth, and with a nod of his head, the soldiers surround me.

  The average citizen could use one or two spells a day before exhaustion. A trained soldier, three or four. Mundane, with little time for effectiveness and limited uses—the spells of soldiers cannot compare with the real power and mystery that surrounds magic.

  Clearly, I can beat them—but the whispers of a fairy used to dealing with emotions convince me to make another choice.

  “I surrender.”