#frederick oc

He flips over the first card, revealing it to you. 

“We are starting strong. You got Ace of Cups. This definitely means a fresh start. New relationships can be a thing for you, maybe just new opportunities in general. Let's see what else this pairs with. Maybe we can get some more details.”

“Sounds promising.” You say, happy with the results so far. He flips the next card, the words “The Sun” at the bottom.

“Ooooh, okay. You got The Sun for your second one. This is really good news. This could mean success, joy, and good fortune.” He pauses for a second, seeming to gather his thoughts.

“When paired with that ace of cups, it likely means that the change will be good. It could be successful, causing happiness in general, or you have some good luck ahead of you.” His fingers rest over the next card, waiting for the answers underneath. 

“Let's see what your last card is.” He flips the next card over, the words “The Emperor” at the bottom. 

Unlike other cards, he doesn't immediately speak. He stares at the card for a moment, then makes eye contact with you. 

“You have…The Emperor for your last card.” He tells you, looking at you like you are a completely different person. 

“So…what does this one mean? Please don't tell me it's anything bad.” 

“Oh, no, no, no, honey. This isn't a bad thing at all.” He tells you, excitement growing on his face by the second. 

“Hey, Mallory?” He says, looking past you. The woman from before walks through the entrance. 

“Can you please get Father Frederick?” He continues, and the people around the tent freeze, aware of the situation happening. Mallory looks between you and Jacob, her eyes lighting up each second. 

“Yes, I will go get him immediately.” She leaves without hearing if there is anything else he needs. 

People around the tent start whispering to themselves. News spreading around the tent that you aren’t aware of. 

“So what exactly just happened?” You turn back to Jacob. Everyone around you seems to know what is happening without you knowing. 

“I just need to get another opinion for your reading. It's good to have a second opinion for readings. Nothing bad, it's a good thing. In the meantime, would you like anything? We have water and snacks if you would like some.” Jacob's attitude is still ecstatic, but he's trying to hide it more. 

Your throat feels dry from the long day of walking you've had, so you ask for water. He leaves you at the table, going behind one of the tables that acts like a counter, grabbing you a fresh cold water bottle. 

Coming back to the table, he opens the water bottle before giving it to you, setting the cap beside you. Minutes pass, and Jacob makes small talk with you, asking about your day and how the festival has gone. 

“They are over there, Father Frederick.” You hear Mallory's voice coming from the tent's entrance. The people in the tent start acting normal, pretending to be busy.

“Thank you, dear.” His voice is confident and clear. Jacob stands as he approaches the table. 

“So I hear there is a reading I can help with?” You look at him as he stops at the side of the table. His clothes are similar to everyone else in the tent, simple and plain. However, they have two different colors. A light muted green is sewn together with the same dark beige. 

“Yes, Father Frederick.” He offers up the chair to him, taking a spot behind the chair. 

Father Frederick accepts the chair from him, sitting across from you. His dark hair is pulled from his face, leaving his brown eyes clear of stray hairs. His somewhat patchy beard covers the bottom half of his face. 

“As you might have guessed, I’m Father Frederick. Sorry that this has been so suspenseful for you. I'm glad that Jacob and Mallory brought me here to explain everything to you.” 

“You are right, it's been suspenseful for sure. Jacob assured me that it wasn't a bad thing, so that made it better.” You say, nervously. What is yet to come from the reading? The people around you make you nervous. Everyone seems to have eyes and ears on you, yet they pretend they don’t.

“Oh, no. It's quite the opposite. Before we continue, let's go to the back. It's more private there.” He stands, taking the deck and the cards before you. You follow him deeper into the tent, the cloth separating the tent into sections. 

The room you come to is more decorated than the front, pillows and rugs cover the ground, making it feel more homey. Father Frederick sits against a couple of pillows, and you sit across him, against a row of pillows too. 

“Let's get this started.” He lays the cards in front of you, just like how they were before. The suspension kills you. How could this be a good thing, and they haven't told you how yet? 

“Your reading started with Ace of Cups and The Sun, it finished with The Emperor. Do you know anything about these cards or tarot in general?” He continues. 

“I know what they are, but I've never used them. This is the only reading I've had as well.” You respond truthfully. 

“That's okay, everyone starts somewhere. I'll just give you a simple rundown.” 

“The reading you received can predict your future, as you have been told already. Your cards deal with things like new beginnings, relationships, change, happiness, success…things like that. But the last card is a bit different than the others. Traditionally, it symbolizes things like authority, structure, and stability.” 

You have some answers now, but you need more. 

“So, how does it work with the other cards?” You say, nervously fidgeting. 

“It would pair with them, signifying there's some type of stability coming into your life with a new beginning or change and relationships. Most readings this would reflect over time, but I have a feeling yours isn't like that.” He explains further, connecting the cards altogether. 

“However, the emperor has an additional and alternative meaning within my community. Would you like to hear about it?” Silence lingers in the air afterwards. 

“Sure, it wouldn't hurt. It just sounds like all good things so far, something happens, and it's a good outcome, that would benefit me in a way.” You look at the cards in front of you, studying the intricate artwork. 

“Within the community, we believe this card represents a person, rather than just a few meanings. This person still represents all of the things within the card, so it's not entirely replaced. Adding the alternative to your reading, it would indicate that this person can bring you these things.” He stops speaking, letting your thoughts catch up to you. The alternative meaning confuses you. Can this mean anything to you? 

“Who's the emperor within your community? I personally don't think it involves them, but I'm curious.” 

“I've always associated myself with The Emperor. It just feels right for me. Naturally, the rest of the community agrees, so it's me…I know this sounds crazy for you, but you were meant to get this reading. You see, months ago, I asked the cards for signs for when I would finally have a child of my own. Three cards came out of the deck: Ace of Cups, The Sun, and The Emperor. All in that order, just like you.” He gathers the cards, putting them back in the deck. 

“That's why everyone was paying attention to me earlier. That's why Mallory got you. They knew to look for those cards already.” The puzzle pieces slide around your brain, clicking into place. 

“Such a smart child I have!” He claps his hands together excitedly. 

“You actually think I'm a child?” You say with a questioning look on your face. His age definitely could make him one, old enough to actually be yours.

“Yes, I have been waiting for you for months now. Now at last, I finally have a child, we can celebrate. There will be celebrations-”

“Wait. I can't do this. I'm sure you will find a kid of your own, but this is a misunderstanding. I’m an adult, not a child.” You stand up, confused about everything.

“This is no misunderstanding, you may be an adult, but you can still be child-like. I may not be your actual dad, but that doesn’t mean I can’t take care of you.” He stands up with you, talking in a gentle and calming voice. 

His words make your stomach flip. Does he really think like this? Why you, out of all people? What’s up with this community thing? Is he the leader of it?

“Don’t you think that could work between us? You don’t have to do much, no responsibilities, just spending time with me. I’ll give you whatever you’d like. You’ll have your own rooms, and you can decorate them however you’d like. You can make friends within the community, or just relax inside.” As he continues talking, the promises sound more tempting. 

You can’t believe that you feel that way, but life has been hard recently. Being able to have no responsibilities sounds nice, but you just don’t know if you can trust him. 

“How can I trust that you are telling the truth? How could I know this isn’t a trap?” You look into his eyes, trying to gauge if he’s trying to get you into something worse. 

“First of all, I would never trap you into anything. I know you don’t know me well, but I would never try to do anything like that to you. I would never lie to you like that either. I don’t like liars at all.” He’s a bit irritated at the thought that you wouldn’t trust him. He should be the only one you trust. 

“Do you know anything about my community? How it works or anything like that?” He asks you. You wonder where this will lead, how this is relevant to the questions you asked him. 

“No, I don’t know anything.” You respond truthfully, not even aware that the group was a thing until today. 

“Okay, well, in our community, we take promises very seriously. We use bracelets to mark our serious ones. All people that involved in the promise wear a matching bracelet to make it accountable to everyone. We can wear one together to reflect the promises that I made to you. That way, if I don’t keep it, everyone will know that I lied.” He pulls out light green bracelets from his pocket, offering one of them to you. A silver sun decorates it; otherwise, it is quite plain. 

“Once you accept the bracelet, we put them on each other, and the promise has been made.” He finishes off, still showing you them. 

“Just think about it, no stress or worries for you. Let me worry about everything else.” His words creep into your brain. They build off your thoughts of wishing for no responsibilities and stress. 

It doesn't feel like you when you reach for one of the bracelets. A smile appears on his face, so happy that you made the right decision. He puts the bracelet on you first, making sure that it’s not too tight or loose. He helps you put his on, adjusting the size to fit over his hand. 

Your throat closes a little, nervousness radiating from you. Did you just make a good decision or a mistake? He still smiles, excitement radiating from him. 

“Thank you for this. I will never forget this.” His voice doesn’t match his attitude, too quiet for so much excitement. 

“Just keep your promise.” You laugh nervously. 

“Father, they are asking us to take down the tent. The festival is over now.” Jacob’s voice comes from the other side of the fabric. The light from his eyes dims slightly, only to spark back up.

“Go ahead and get everyone to pack up the tent. We’ll leave for home now.”

“Yes, Father. Is there anything else you need?” Jacob’s voice comes through the fabric again. 

“Actually, yes, you and Mallory will have new colors. Please return your current colors and get your new ones tomorrow.”  

“Thank you, Father. I will let Mallory know.”

He turns back to you, giving you his full attention. 

“Sorry to cut our time short, but I’m going to have to leave you with my guards. They will take you to my house. Feel free to go wherever. I’ll meet you at the house soon.” He calls a couple of names, people appearing through the cloth. 

“It’s okay.” It’s weird for you to be around so many people you don’t know, but you’ll soon figure it out.  

He introduces you to Orion and Elijah, telling you they are his most trusted men and he's known them all his life. Orion looks similar to Frederick, like they could be cousins. Elijah looks the total opposite, having dirty blonde hair and green eyes. 

Frederick leaves you with them after walking you to a car. Orion drives away from the festival, taking back roads, going down roads you've never been through. Houses appear here and there, farmland and woods taking most of the land. 

A huge sign ahead appears, the words “The Family” painted in white against the wood. Orion turns on the gravel road beside it. You guess this is where everything is. You study what is ahead of you, a gate blocks the road, fencing running alongside it till it hits the trees. A guard stands by the gate, opening it when they see Orion in the front seat. 

Through the gate, it isn't until you clear the trees that you begin to see more interesting things. The car circles the roundabout, giving you time to look at the details. When you enter the circle, there's a mostly empty parking lot. Halfway through the circle, buildings appear alongside a road. 

Completing the circle, the car drives down the last road, similar to the last one. People wearing beige walk around everywhere, going into buildings, walking on the roads, and working outside. 

The road ends up splitting into a V, with formal-looking buildings at the end of one, a single big house on the other. The car takes you to the house, parking once it drives up the large driveway. 

You left Orion and Elijah to explore the house some time ago. You stayed in the living room with them for a couple of minutes, but quickly got bored. The house is pretty simple. All the rooms are minimalistic. Some doors are closed, so you don’t enter those. You only look through the open ones. There are some meeting and office-like rooms, with tons of chairs and a table in the center of the room. Other rooms are copy-and-paste bedrooms, only containing what someone would need for a couple of days. 

You wonder if you will stay in a room like this. Does Frederick stay in a room like this? Everyone here is quite minimalistic, so there is a chance. You leave the rooms, hoping that you didn’t invade anyone's privacy. Leaving the rooms, you are back in the hallway. It continues past the rooms you were just in; there are a couple of guards standing there. You don’t want to deal with them, so you leave, wandering back to the main parts. 

One thing you are curious about, there’s no technology here. You haven’t seen any phones, computers, TVs, just nothing. It makes you think back to your phone, feeling your pocket…it’s not there. You can’t remember the last time you had it. Even then, could you get a signal here? Did Frederick take it when he hugged you before getting into the car? Would he do something like that? 

“There you are, I was wondering where you’d be.” Frederick comes into your line of sight just before you walk into the living room. 

“Oh, yeah, I was just exploring like you said I could.” 

“Where have you been? I can help complete the tour for you.” 

“I’ve just seen the main area, and this hallway, so just the first floor really.” You want to ask what the guards are for, but you don’t want to make things awkward. 

He shows you the rest of the house, starting with the basement. It’s mainly just storage down there. Lots of it is food; rows of cans cover a good chunk of the room. The rest is hard to tell what it is, totes and boxes stacked in neat rows. 

The only interesting thing is a panic room at the end of the stairs. He lets you in there, putting a code to open it. It’s bigger than you expect. One wall has shelves, books of different genres cover parts of it. The other shelves are like the ones in the other room, cans taking up more shelves. He explains that as a kid, he ran out of food at times, and he never wants to feel like that again. 

The rest of the room has other furniture, dressers, end tables, couches, and a dining table. Looking through the room altogether, it feels like a bomb shelter. It has everything to support a small group of people for a short time. 

“Is this a bomb shelter? Your voice is higher than normal, giving it a questioning feel. Frederick chuckles a little, containing his laughter. 

“No, that’s outside of the house. This is just a good panic room. I wanted to make sure it was as safe as possible.” His voice is more serious than his laughter just a few seconds before.

“Good place to go to if you have bad weather.” You try to lighten the mood. Why did he get so serious then? Does he really have a bomb shelter? 

You are met with awkward silence. This is obviously a sensitive topic for him. He takes your thoughts from the bomb shelter, asking if you would like to see the upstairs, where your room is. 

Going up the steps after him, you don't see Orion and Elijah in the living room anymore. They must have gone to do something else. Hitting the second floor, there's a secondary living room. It's more decorated than the rest of the house, but still no electronics in sight.

“This part of the house is more private than the rest. You will only see Orion and Elijah up here. They have rooms up here too.” He turns, walking down another hallway. 

“Orion and Elijah stay in the rooms closest to the stairs. Mine is at the end of the hallway. Both of yours are at the end too.” He walks past a couple more doors, probably being closets or bathrooms. 

“Both rooms? I don't need two rooms.” 

“Nonsense, you can have five rooms if you'd like.” He turns back to you, resting against a doorframe. The door is wide open; its partner across the hall remains closed.

“Come on in. Don't be shy. This is your room.” He taps the light switch, causing light to come into the hallway. 

Walking into the room, you are met with minimal colors and furniture. It looks like the rooms downstairs, minimal and boring. 

“Don't worry, tomorrow we will get ready to design it however you'd like.” He watches you as you look around the room. 

“That soon?” 

“Yep, anything for my kid. You've got to have everything you need available for you.” He goes over to the dresser, opening drawers, pulling out muted green clothing. He folds them when he's made a decision, leaving them on the bed.

“I don't need everything. I'm happy with how I am now.” You turn, looking at the first corner of the room. The open door blocks another door. It jets out from the wall, making it look out of place. 

“Nonsense. Children need everything they can get.” He notices you are distracted, looking at the door. 

He comes up from behind you, gently placing his arm around your shoulder. 

“That's another panic room, it's much smaller than the other one. It also connects to my room.” He walks up to the PIN pad beside it, pushing numbers. 

“The code to open and close it is 3049.” The door opens, revealing the insides. 

“But if there's any reason why you need to stay in there without me, never open the door. Orion and I are the only ones who know the code to get inside. One of us will help you get out. Never open it for any reason, you understand that?” His mood gets serious again, his voice firm and unwavering. It scares you seeing him like this. Why does he keep getting in moods like this? 

“Um, yeah. No opening door once inside.” You repeat his words. 

“Good. I don't like having you in unsafe situations. C'mon in and take a peek inside. We can add some stuff for you, tons of coloring supplies and stuffies or whatever you'd prefer.” 

You look into the room, it looks like a large studio apartment. Food supplies sit in the corner with the kitchen stuff, and a bed sits in another corner. 

He watches you look around the room, hoping you like everything you have seen so far. He worries that you think you can leave him any second, but that's far from the truth. Now that he has you here, he'll always have eyes on you. 

All you've been doing since your first night is spending more time with Frederick. You called him Frederick once. You will never be doing that again. He got a serious look on his face again and told you to call him Dad from now on. It was weird the first couple of times, but it felt natural afterwards. 

You have also been designing and decorating your rooms. He showed you the other room the next morning. Unlike your bedroom, this room is decorated fully, and most of the space is already taken up. 

He didn't know what age his kid would be, so he has almost everything for all ages. It's a bit intimidating how much thought he put into it. 

You've gone through some of the stuff, weeding out some of the things you'd like and wouldn't like. He puts whatever you don't like into boxes, packing them away just in case you ever change your mind. 

“Are you sure you want this in the boxes?” Frederick holds the latest thing you’ve asked to be put away. 

“Dad, I told you that I didn’t think it suited me.” You look through more things, sorting them into piles. 

“Okay, honey, but I really think you should reconsider some of the things you’ve rejected.” He seems sad about the number of things you rejected. You watch him pick up a teddy bear that you thought looked creepy, holding it in his hands as he looks at it sadly. 

“I changed my mind. I’ll take the bear. I was just being too harsh on him. Maybe he can go into the panic room.” His eyes light up as he looks back at you. 

“Yes, darling! That’s perfect. I’ll go leave him in there now.” He leaves you in the room. There’s stuff all around the floor, like a tornado came through the room. 

Looking at a pile of books on the ground, you are pulled back to your childhood. The drawings on the front bring you nostalgia, and you start to feel somewhat spaced out as you grab it, flipping through the pages. You read the words on the pages, flipping them to finish the story. 

“You like that book?” Frederick stands beside you, you didn't realize that he was already back. 

“Oh, yeah, I remember it as a kid.” You flip the book closed, slightly embarrassed that he caught you reminiscing. 

“This really works for you, don't you see how the reading predicted all of this?” 

You've had some time to dwell on the tarot reading that you've received, and you find it hard to deny that it's just a coincidence. You've been able to get more sleep, not having to worry about money and other life stresses. You can't help but feel the happiness and relief that have been brought into your life. 

“Yeah, it was right. It's just hard to imagine it was before. It was so hard to understand it all in the beginning.” 

“It takes time to understand readings. Sometimes they won't make sense until after everything happens.” He says softly, a smile on his face. 

“I'm glad I decided to stay with you. I know it's just the beginning…so that might be weird to hear.”

“Oh no, honey. You could have come up to me without the reading, and I would have accepted you as my own. It was meant to be one way or another.” 

🎶 grandkid roundup! (grandkid roundup!) 🎶

From the top going clockwise:

Behind Ephemer is Curio, the eldest grandchild, Aeon and Anders’ first

The one with the auburn hair is Aglaea aka Aga, Aeon and Anders’ third

Carrying her is Dante, Mori and Buttercup’s first

Then it’s Rigel, Clio and Jove’s first

The grass stained one is Frederick aka Freddy, Aeon and Anders’ second (and Curio’s twin)

Next is Deneb, Clio and Jove’s third

Standing above him is Cephei, Clio and Jove’s second

In Ephemer’s lap is Lily, Mori and Buttercup’s second

And finally, the baby is Ima, Mori and Buttercup’s third

But wait! Who’s taking the photo?

He had to be hallucinating. That was the only logical explanation for it. Had one of his potions backfired again? He pushed through the fog in his mind for answers. The last thing he remembered was Folium asking him something, followed by the sound of rain.

That didn’t help much. He tried to recall anything more recent, but the mists in his head would not part any further. Without warning, Frederick sneezed. He became intimately aware of the fact that he was soaking wet. He shivered and hugged himself as he stood.

“Folium?” Frederick called.

No answer. He turned in a small circle. The same surroundings greeted him from all sides, along with occasional, faint giggles from the undergrowth.

“Who’s there?” he demanded.

His hand went for his sword. He unsheathed it with a swish and held it in a white-knuckled grip. The giggles, of which there were several now, only increased.

“I should very much like to wake up now,” Frederick muttered, then, more loudly, “show yourselves!”

The sound of rain returned, and with it the scent of petrichor. A woman approached him through the undergrowth.

Frederick had never seen a stranger sight in his life. For one thing, her skin was the most unnatural shade of blue, more so than that of someone that had frozen to death in a snowstorm. Her eyes held a grey-blue sky within them, and her ears came to little points at their ends. Her deep-blue hair fell in watery cascades down her back, and the white freckles that dotted her face were like flecks of splashing water.

More extraordinary than all of this was the fact that the woman had not walked toward him; she had floated. For on her back sprouted a pair of blue wings with a composition much akin to a dragonfly’s. They fluttered behind her now, supporting her as she circled him in midair.

“Hello, little one,” she beamed.

Frederick followed her every move with his sword, not daring to lower it.

“Who are you?” he asked, hoping his voice sounded firmer than it felt.

“I am called Sapphire,” the woman said, “may I have your name?”

Frederick’s eyes widened. Oh, how he wished he had only been hallucinating after all. Based on the stories, he knew all too well where he was. He didn’t know much about the fae, for Galiot and his parents always got strangely quiet and distant when he asked about them, but he knew enough to recognize one of their kind when he saw one. And he also knew what not to do should one of them ask the question that this one had just posed.

“You may not,” Frederick said, “my name is mine and mine alone.”

Sapphire’s smile flickered for only a moment. It returned even broader than before.

“Oh, clever boy,” she praised, “I see you know more than I presumed.”

She stopped right in front of his sword’s razor-sharp point.

“You must also know not to insult me,” she said sweetly, “and pointing a blade such as this at your host is rather rude, is it not?”

Frederick did know that, he had just forgotten he knew that. With reluctance, he sheathed his blade.

“As honored as I am to be invited to your realm,” Frederick said, “I have urgent business to attend to in my own. I should like to return there at once.”

“Oh?” Sapphire’s eyes twinkled, “and do you know how to get back to your realm?”

“I had hoped you would tell me.”

Fae couldn’t lie, so hopefully this ordeal would be over as soon as it had-

“I don’t want to, so I will not,” Sapphire said, circling him once more, “I have waited ever so long for your arrival, and I do not intend to let you go so easily.”

Frederick huffed. Now what was he to do?

“Very well. I shall figure it out on my own.”

He started to walk away, but something wrapped around his ankle and held him fast. He looked down and saw wet, leafy vines had crawled out of the water and were snaking up his legs.

“I said I did not intend to let you go so easily,” Sapphire said, “while I am not a plant fae, these vines and I have a good relationship with each other. They have been gracious enough to assist me.”

Frederick had drawn his sword once more, manners be cursed, and was attempting to hack at the vines. His steel blade barely gave them a scratch. They climbed up his body like a trellis, pulling his arms down and pinning them to his sides. Every breath Frederick took became shallower as it became abundantly clear just how immobile he had become.

The vines were almost to his neck when they recoiled. They started to wither at the tips, their strength waning until only his forearms and below were properly secured. He still couldn’t get free of course.

Sapphire’s brows knitted together.

“What have you got around your neck, human?” she asked.

She approached him with caution. Frederick wanted to put distance between them, but it seemed like the vines were pulling him closer to her. Sapphire trailed a finger around his collar. She cried out when she touched the chain of his pendant.

“What accursed object have you brought with you?” she demanded, cradling her burnt finger.

“I didn’t bring anything,” Frederick countered, “you abducted me.”

She took a deep breath. She untied his shirt at the neckline, exposing his chest. There upon it sat the pendant, its dark sapphire glinting in its black setting. The metal was mildly warm against his skin, but not hot, and certainly not enough to burn someone. Sapphire took a few hasty steps back until she was at arm’s length.

“Iron,” she spoke the word like a curse, “I might have known.”

She nodded to the vines, which slithered down enough to release Frederick’s hands.

“Take it off,” she said, “and cast it through there.”

She pointed to a large pool in the moss, big enough for a person to fit through.

“Is that the way back to the human realm?” Frederick asked.

Sapphire refused to answer. That would be a yes then.

“This pendant was a gift,” Frederick said, not making a move, “I want to keep it.”

“This is your final warning,” Sapphire said, but made no move to get closer.

“Remove the vines.” Frederick said.

Sapphire rolled her eyes.

“Suit yourself, human.”

Good. Once he was free of the plants he could simply jump into the portal and then have it filled with dirt and stone.

Sapphire flew toward him, closing the distance between them in the blink of an eye. She tore the chain from around his neck, breaking it at once. She gritted her teeth and fought to not cry out. With a plop and a splash, Frederick’s only protection from the fae disappeared across the planes.

Sapphire summoned a bubble of cool water from the lake and slipped her hand inside it. The liquid soothed her, and soon enough her blue skin had completely healed.

She turned to Frederick with a smile, but in her eyes she wore a withering gaze of fire.

“Right,” she said, “I did warn you, human. Now let’s see about a consequence for your defiance.”

Part 5- Consequences

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Fate has a fondness for irony.

Sir Galiot Smith, a man in his late thirties, had been given the station of Frederick’s personal knight and protector at his birth. He took this role with a solemnity one would afford to guarding a most precious treasure, which Frederick was to his parents, and as time passed, he quickly became to Galiot.

Now, as Galiot watched the young prince toddle off after a butterfly, the sky sent a midsummer breeze to offset the cruel majesty of the sun. It was nice, refreshing, and just what the man needed after traveling for so long.

“Sir Galiot!” a knight called.

“What is it?” he asked, turning.

“The king asked me to remind you of your rematch,” the knight said.

“Ah, still bitter at his loss, is he?” Galiot said, though his words were in jest, “tell him I’ll be right there. Come along, Lad- Lad? Frederick!?”

For what would surely not be the last time in his life, Frederick had wandered off into the thicket.

“Stay there in case he comes back,” Galiot ordered the knight, whose paling visage mirrored his own.

Galiot tore through the undergrowth, calling for the child. It had been one second. One second he had turned, and now Frederick was gone like a passing vapor. He could practically feel his dirty-blond hair turning grey.

The deeper he went into the woods, the more anxious he became. Relations between Ridirians and Verheimans had always been incredibly positive, even to the point that one of their citizens had been the Highcrest family physician since the dawn of Ridire itself. Running into the elves wasn’t what Galiot was worried about. No, it was far more dangerous creatures he feared in these woods.

The sound of lively music turned his blood to ice. He ducked behind a mossy boulder and peeked out just in time to see a merry band of oddly-colored people with pointed ears and wings like dragonflies, dancing and fluttering along to the tune of their instruments.

In the center of the throng, two fae-folk held either hand of a little boy with onyx-black hair and brilliant blue eyes.

They were headed right for a ring of mushrooms. No. Absolutely not. By the stars, Galiot would cut himself down with his own sword before he let Frederick be doomed to the fae realm.

He jumped out in front of the troupe, and the music stopped at once. Some of the fae looked confused, others a bit frightened. The one holding Frederick’s right hand pulled him in closer. She had cerulean and grey eyes like a cloudy sky, and her skin was the pale blue color of raindrops. Her white freckles seemed to glow under the trees, and her deep azure hair ran down her back like a river.

Her eyes narrowed.

“Forgive me, good people,” Galiot said slowly, “only I was so enchanted by your music that I simply had to compliment it.”

Each of the fae’s eyes brightened at once. The fae-man holding Frederick’s other hand released it, flitting over and around Galiot.

“Did you really enjoy it? Tell us more about our music, human~!”

Galiot took a deep breath. Frederick couldn’t talk yet, or at least, he couldn’t make coherent speech, so with luck, the fae did not have his name, which meant the knight could negotiate his safe return to him. Still, if Galiot insulted them in any way, the consequences could be cataclysmic. He needed to choose his words very carefully.

“Your melodies are like nothing we humans can produce,” Galiot said, “they are superior in every way. The babbling brook sounds like a hag’s cackle compared to you, and the birds are no more than a man’s pitchy whistle.”

“This human has taste!” a pink fae clapped.

Galiot took a deep breath, never taking his eyes off of Frederick.

“If I may ask, good fae-folk, where are you taking this child?”

“Back to our realm, of course!” the blue fae said, “I have long desired a pet, and he is simply perfect for me!”

Sweat beaded on Galiot’s forehead.

“Ah, but, your graces,” Galiot said, “that boy is far too young to truly appreciate your musical talents. He does not understand what a privileged audience he would be. Return him to me, won’t you? I will teach him to respect you as you deserve.”

The blue fae considered his words.

“Very well,” she said.

Galiot breathed a sigh of relief.

“You may have him until he has grown, at which point, I will return for him. Surely, by his eighteenth year, he will learn to adore our gifts and talents!”

“But-!” Galiot blurted.

He composed himself at once.

“My lady, eighteen is still so young,” he tried, “why not take me in his place? I can give you the adoration you deserve.”

“Nonsense!” she said brightly, “his youth is what draws us to him. A human your age is like a flower that has begun to wither.”

“Please-”

“Unless you would prefer for me to take him now, as he is?” she asked, quirking a brow.

“No!” Galiot said, “of course not. Like I said, he is too little to behold your greatness.”

She smiled and nodded.

“It is as you say,” she said, “when he is of age, we will come back to this plane and find him. Thank you, kind human, your services are appreciated!”

She brought Frederick over to Galiot, who crouched down with his arms out.

“Aliof!” Frederick babbled.

Galiot embraced him and stood. He held him in his arms tightly, as though the winged creatures might snatch him back that very moment.

“Farewell, human!” the fae waved.

One by one the fae flittered into the fairy circle, disappearing back to their realm in a whisper of wind.

…

Galiot staggered back into camp, still carrying the young prince. Frederick had since fallen asleep, completely unaware of the danger he had just been saved from, and blissfully ignorant of the fate that awaited him in adulthood.

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Frederick guessed that it would have healing properties, but there was really only one way to find out for sure. He pulled up his sleeve with his teeth, then produced his dagger. A gift from his father, it had a sapphire encrusted into the pommel, and had the Highcrest’s signet engraved just below the hilt. Such a weapon was meant to protect and defend the crown prince; it certainly wasn’t intended to be wielded against him, especially by his own hand.

This was merely an experiment to explore methods of healing, so there was no need to make a deep cut yet. Frederick would just make a shallow graze and- ah! He winced as crimson beads ran in streams down his arm. Well, so much for shallow. No matter, it would be all the better to test the full extent of the golden sap. The dagger rested on the table with a dull thud.

Frederick took a clean pipette and sucked up the completed solution. He released a few droplets of his new potion onto his arm. Setting the instrument aside, he sat on his wooden stool and waited for any type of reaction. In his dominant hand he held a quill over an open, leather-bound journal, ready to take down his observations as they came.

Nothing yet.

Frederick blew the fringe out of his face. This was taking a lot longer than he thought it would.

Still nothing.

Frederick sighed. Had he really just put a mixture containing ordinary tree sap into an open wound?

Wait.

There was something… small, but noticeable, and worth documenting. A tingling in his forearm, almost like a shudder that only rippled through the cut itself.

Frederick scribbled notes down, the quill flying across the page and ink spattering on the worktable.

Perhaps he had been writing too fast. His handwriting was usually quite neat, but now it was indecipherable. The words on the parchment blurred and twisted before his eyes.

The tingling became more pronounced, almost like a faint burning now. Frederick held a hand to his head, dropping his quill in the process. A knock came at the door.

“Your highness?”

Frederick bumped his head on the underside of his worktable. He grunted from the impact. His head pulsed with pain for a lot longer than it should have.

“Yes?” he called.

“Queen Morgana requests your presence for luncheon.”

Frederick went to stand but fell back down as his legs failed to support him.

“Ah!”

“Are you all right?”

“It’s nothing!” Frederick lied.

“Prince Frederick…”

“I’ll be there in a minute!”

The door swung open. Frederick cursed, he thought he had locked it. The servant stood in the threshold and Frederick could just register a horrified gasp.

“Surely it isn’t that bad…” Frederick mumbled.

“Guards! Fetch the doctor!” the servant shouted.

“No, you don’t have to-,” Frederick tried to call out, “mm…”

He faceplanted onto the hardwood floor, picking up the scent of herbs and tree sap before his vision blackened and the sounds of the world faded away.

…

The first clue that Frederick hadn’t died was the sound of worried voices chattering over him.

“…At it again, I told… stop… reckless…”

Frederick was only picking up a few words at a time.

“…How did he manage…”

The second indication that Frederick was alive was the feeling of something hot and vaguely damp on his forehead. From what he understood, Heaven didn’t have such an extreme temperature, and the other location was a lot more dry.

Something cold made contact with his face, and the heat abated for a few moments. Against his wishes, a small whine of relief escaped him.

“…Waking up…”

No, no, he wasn’t waking up. Please. If he woke up, he’d have to endure a lecture. Couldn’t he go back to that veil between life and death for just a half hour more?

No such luck. Frederick’s eyes fluttered open. A feverish glaze overshadowed their usually brilliant blue hue.

“Frederick Highcrest.”

He winced, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Mother.”

“The doctors have been caring for you tirelessly,” Queen Morgana said, her usually gentle tone taking on a cold sternness, “how many times have we told you to practice caution with your blasted experiments!?”

“…I apologize-”

“As you should,” Morgana continued, “you are not some mere boy. You’re the crown prince of Ridire, and as such, you should be more careful with something as precious as your life!”

Morgana stood, crossing the room to speak with the head doctor. Sir Galiot strode in, arms folded across his chest.

“Why did you do it this time, Lad?” he asked.

He seemed disappointed, but not at all surprised.

“Galiot,” Frederick greeted.

He went to prop himself up, but he couldn’t feel his arm to do so. He glanced down, seeing the skin had been heavily bandaged.

“I suggest you stay down, Frederick,” Galiot huffed, “you’ve only been unconscious for two days.”

Two days!? Oh, his chances of getting out of this unscathed just dwindled to a very small number.

“…Does Father know?” Frederick asked in a small voice.

“Does he-!? Of course, he bloody knows!” Galiot shouted.

“I thought it had healing properties,” Frederick tried, “surely such a risk would be worth taking if-”

“Lad, I would advise you not to finish that sentence.”

Frederick’s mouth snapped shut.

Morgana came back to his bedside, followed by the head doctor and a couple of nurses. The doctor took hold of Frederick’s forearm, inspecting the bandages.

“What you found, your highness, seems to have been some kind of amplifier for wounds and maladies. A kind of poison, if you will. Applying to an open wound could have easily killed you.”

“I see,” Frederick said, “do you think the entire plant has the same properties, or could they be different? For instance, the leaves-”

“Frederick Highcrest!”

Frederick winced. That was the second time his full name had been used, and this time it was much worse, seeing as the speaker was his father.

“How many times must we do this song and dance?” King Hrethric fixed him with an armor-piercing stare, “why must you put the entire castle through such anguish? When are you going to learn-”

Hrethric’s voice had increased in volume until it abruptly halted into silence. He looked away, visibly composing himself. When he looked back at Frederick, his gaze softened just a bit. The king closed the distance between them and sat at his bedside.

“We thought we’d lost you this time,” he said, “don’t do this to us again.”

Frederick tried to sit up again, to at least be at somewhat eye-level with his father. Hrethric gently pushed him back down.

“We’re going to be clearing out your stores, again.”

“But-”

“There is no room for discussion. You have no need of such dangerous ingredients. Any ailment you have can be mended here, in the infirmary, by professionals.”

Arguing further would merely rekindle his father’s anger, so Frederick opted to remain silent. Hrethric sighed. He slid a hand under his son’s head, lifting it up to press his lips to his onyx-black hair. He lowered it back down against the pillows.

“You are going to be monitored for the remainder of the week,” Hrethric went on to say, “we’ll send for your books should you become bored.”

Boredom was not going to be an issue, which Frederick realized as his eyelids began to droop.

“The prince needs rest, your majesty,” the head doctor said quietly, “his ordeal is not quite over yet.”

“I understand,” Hrethric said.

He squeezed Frederick’s hand before rising. He and Morgana left the room, followed by Galiot. Frederick stared up at the ceiling and sighed. He drifted off just as the nurses started to draw the curtains shut.

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