(Continuation of my other writing: should’ve known/we need a human?)

“I’m going to my Mom’s this afternoon.”

Issac, who had come a few minutes earlier to join me on our lunch break while the kids were in the cafeteria, looks up from his phone and nods, chewing on the chunk of sandwich that’s bulging from his cheek.

“That’s good,” he says after swallowing, “Well, as long as she doesn’t say something that makes you burst into tears.”

I sigh. My—Issac’s, really, since I raided his fridge before work—strawberry yorgurt in my mouth feels spoiled and sour at his words.

“So…not good?”

I shrug. “As you said, it depends on what she says.”

Issac makes a low humming noise, looking at me with his black eyes as though he’s going to say something, but then hesitates and says nothing.

“What.”

“Hmm?”

“What is it?”

“Nothing. Nothing. Just—oh, don’t look at me like that, it’s nothing bad—your Mom is a little….”

I toss my yorgurt in the trash underneath my desk. “A little wonky?”

“A little bit of a passive aggressive bitch.”

“Don’t call my Mom—“

A bitch.

A passive aggressive person would be better. But I see where Issac is coming from. Last time we went to go visit my Mom, she repeatedly asked why Issac was dating David while trying to make be “un-gay” I think. Some of the questions were…not appropriate…so Issac left, uncomfortable, and never went with me to see her again.

As much as I love her, I wish I had the same opportunity.

I stare at her well managed lawn in the afternoon sun as I wait for her to open her front door. There are gnomes hidden the grasses and weeds, small enough to be a rock; their red pointed hats tall in the grass. I don’t even know why she keeps those things. She hates them.

The door opens and a small woman with gray hairs streaking through her matted braids is in its place, arranging her glasses, similar to the brand of mine, and squinting up at me. A smile slowly spreads across her warm brown face, and I gather her in my arms.

“Hey, Mom.”

“They broke up with you?”

It’s so similar to when I came to Issac’s place last week, expect that she has an excited lip to her voice, that I laugh.

And cry a little bit. But just a little bit.

I’m getting over it.

I am.

                   [*+*+*]

GAVIN

“A human.”

“Yes, a human.”

“It didn’t say that in the flyer.”

“Yeah, well, we both know the Queen is indecisive. Changing things last minute is usually what she does.”

Ashvier stares at me, his forgotten pie half-eaten and crumbs on his face. I reach out and brush them off of his freckled pale face with my thumb in attempt to lighten up the mood. He doesn’t seem angry—more thoughtful than that. I’m hoping he’ll forget all about this contest. We don’t have to prove ourselves to our parents, and we never did. We can just go elope like any other disgraced children.

“We’re still in it,” he says, brushing my hand away to stand, “I want to do this the right way.”

I scoff. “The right way for your parents and mine would be not to do this at all. Two different races—who have hated each other since the beginning of time—having their princes marry. The audacity!”

“Shut up, Gavin. We’ll have to go to the mortal realm, of course, to find a human. But how will we know which one to pick?”

Our house is warm and I lean back to take a quick nap. Ash usually does the planning, and I do the doing. More than happy to really. It’s fun—sometimes—and it makes my beloved happy.

“How about,” his voice is right by my ear, startling me when I open my eyes to see his gaze on mine, “we go there together. Me as my deer form, and you Cloaked. Whichever human looks at us first will be the one we take.”

I shrug, still not happy about this but knowing I have no choice in that matter. “Sure, why not.”

“Now, all we have to do is convince your sister to give us her book.”

I smile, walking to the door to grab my Cloak. “That’s the easy part.”

——

(I’m just trying to finish my drafts. I have like 79 remaining. 💀 Thanks for reading. Aaand that’s enough.)

I ought to be grateful my parents didn’t stick burning iron rods down my throat the second they discovered I was no mortal child. But then again, that’s not much worse than being thrown in the dumpster in fifth avenue.

By the time I was seven, I knew how to make leaves look like gold. By the time I was twelve, I mastered pickpocketing. And by sixteen, I was gone. Away from the small town in Pennsylvania where a little mortal girl was stolen, replaced by a changeling.

Not much has changed in the fifteen years since I was kicked to the curb. I still look sickly, with frail bones and hollow eyes. But at least I know how to keep a spell on (even around iron) so I look humanly enough.

That’s why at day I’m Clara something, your local friendly couch hopper. And at night I’m another monster, letting my spell slip away. Stealing children and selling them to wanting faerie mothers.

Look—I am aware of how awful it sounds. Scary faerie, stealing away children from the mortal realm. But it’s not all bad.

The children get to live a life of lavish in faerie land, spoiled and fed like fat cats on a rug. The faeries get to feel the love of a human child, and not one of a sickly vermin. And the mortal parents…well let’s say I only take the children from parents who don’t deserve them.

So call me what you must—but just know that whether human me or not, I always take advantage of the best opportunity’s.

No matter what.

He is friendly to the cat, the man who stole what is mine. His touch is tender as he coos over me. I am disgusted with him but I must commit to the role of a cat so he doesn’t know the truth. I am watching him, waiting for the right moment to strike and then I will punish him accordingly for taking what’s mine. It takes me two days to realize that fool doesn’t know what he took. He think it a pretty figurine that he’ll probably place on a shelf.

I hate him. His curiosity is a thorn in my side as I worry. His laugh is a torturous song as I calm myself. I couldn’t take the sight of him anymore so I enchant an item of his for convenient tracking and leave.

Weeks later, we meet again as he moved with caution through the night. His head is always turned a bit behind him and every sound turns him into a statue. I enjoy his fear. Tonight, I am in the form of an owl. He admires me from below, his eyes lighting up. For some reason, he makes conversation with the owl telling of his loneliness and requesting…friendship.

Friendship with an owl? What a strange, strange man he was. I then imagined us as friends. Me in the form I rarely take nowadays and I scoff at the idea of it. I couldn’t say no in the form I was currently in so all he hears is a hoo in response. He thinks it a hoo of agreement but if he were to properly translate know that I am calling him a fool.

The next night, he is even more talkative, telling the owl things he wouldn’t tell the cat. He says he is looking for someone and when I answer back with an owl’s hoo I truly mean the word who. Instead of answering, he gets quiet, his shoulders slump. I’ve never seen him sad before as he never frowned when with the cat.

Days pass, and for some reason I’m still at his side. His demeanor has become more depressed with each passing day. He is also getting closer to the forest of endings. A place where only a fool will trek into. Fitting. A foolish man who will find himself having a foolish end. I decided to leave him to his fate and fetch what he took from me after.

Yet, days later, I find his camp in the forest of endings. I am now a dog, a loyal companion who will follow him to the death. He feeds me. His eyes light up when I eat a hearty amount. He stands near me and speaks of a dog he had as a child by the name of potion.

“I named him that because my dad was a wizard and he—“ he stops himself, looking at me with sad eyes. “Why do you follow me?”

I bark a confused bark but his eyes are serious. I decide to speak with my actual voice but still I stay in the form of a dog.

“Do you know what I am?” I say and he doesn’t look surprised to hear me speak.

“Yes, I’ve sensed your magic. You were a cat then an owl now a dog. You also enchanted one of my rings. Why?”

“The trinket you took in that cabin. It’s mine.”

“The one in the torn down abandoned house?” He asks, shocked.

“Yes. Can you please give it back to me?”

He goes over to his backpack picking up the figurine. Walking back, he has his hands out as he waits for me to take it. I transform, turning into my form of a woman. A form I barely spent time in as the sight of my face reminds me of what I lost.

I grab the figurine, a smile of relief on my face as I breathe out a word.

“Mother.”

“Mother?” He repeats, shocked.

“Are you okay?” I say, my focus on the figurine in hand.

She does not respond. She never does but that doesn’t keep me from always hoping she will one day. I conjure my enchanted bag and slip the figurine inside. Once it disappears, I am startled as I forgot all about the man in front of me.

“My father was a wizard too and after an argument, he turned my mother into a figurine then never came back home. I always guard it but the day you came my magic was weak because I was working on a transformation spell that could fix her.”

“I’m sorry, I took your mother.”

“Thank you for returning her,” I look at him, his face full of regret. “May I ask you a question?”

“Yes.”

“Why are you in the forest of endings?” I wonder. I’ve followed you long enough to see you are a fool but clearly you can’t be that foolish.”

“I am looking for my father.”

“You will not find him. It’ll be impossible. For here, one can only find an ending.”

“I must try.”

“You’ve sensed my magic all along, haven’t you? I assume you're trained.”

“Formally, yes. I’m not very good at it though.”

“So a fool takes on a fool’s task.” I observe him for a moment. My heart has an odd reaction as if it’s a word I’m stumbling over. “I will journey along with you as payment for your kindness.”

“I would like that,” he says, sincerely.

A heat rises up inside of me. What strange magic was this fool doing to me?

Clearing my throat, I say. “Good, and just so you know to answer your question from days ago. You and I are not friends.”

“Befriending an owl. What a foolish man,” I continue, muttering under my breath.

“Are you forgetting I was aware you were a wizard?”

“Either way, still foolish.”

He chuckles, heat rises within me again and I start to feel like a fool.

Every week of jogging, Wilfia couldn’t resist her sorrows for this one little girl that always played on the playground by herself.

Most of the time, if not ever, kids would pay her dust for some odd reason, which led Wilfia to ask herself: is she annoying? Is she rough with the other kids? Does she stank or something?

Questions that needed answers, but there’s only one way to possibly know.

Wilfia decided from her jogging schedule she will introduce herself to the little girl. Not as herself though, more like cuddly, fuzzy, cute fur ball with four legs.

Wilfia ran her longs legs straight towards the park where she’d found the little girl doing completely nothing. In fact, she appeared to be filled with the blues, glancing at the other children occasionally. It made Wilfia somberly carry her four legs to the little girl and begun exhilaratingly sniffing, hopping, and licking causing the little to be a bit scared at first as she almost took off running.

But then she stopped in her tracks innocently gazing at the Wilfia fulfilled with so much hope in her eyes. The little girl slowly came back mirroring Wilfia to harmlessly approach as well, putting her head down. The little girl took it as a sign to diffidently glide her hand across her head softly transitioning into patting, then to a complete double-hand massage.

Wilfia couldn’t help getting weak on her knees and crumbling to the ground, technically on the last step of stairs on the playground. Wilfia could feel the little girl’s energy brightening up allowing laughter to escape through her lips.

The little girl ended the fantastic massage that Wilfia was receiving and gave her a look on her collar.

“Wilfia.” Her high pitch voice uttered. “Well, nice to meet you, Wilfia.” She shook her paw. “I’m Ghamorsi. Wanna throw a ball with me?”

Wilfia’s tail began to waggle crazily, watching Ghamorsi digging in her pocket and pulling out a tennis ball. Usually she’d used this ball to throw against a wall so it can bounce back to her, but today is a different story.

As she throws the ball for Wilfia to catch and return back, Wilfia couldn’t help to acknowledge the children in the background staring enviously. To rub it in, Wilfia began to chase and tackle Ghamorsi like they were playing tag, which made the kids approach. Too bad Wilfia knew they only wanted to play with her through Ghamorsi, so she would bark and growled at them forcing them to leave.

Ghamorsi didn’t seem to mind, since the kids treated her like a throwaway trash anyway. They kept on playing upon hours and hours until it was time for Ghamorsi to go home.

Wilfia went back home too, and by next week she came back and saw Ghamorsi had a new friend on the playground that Wilfia has never seen before. Ghamorsi spotted Wilfia jogging by and for some mysterious reason, Wilfia felt this energy that Ghamorsi knew who she was.

Ghamorsi curved into a huge smile and waved at Wilfia and she returned the same courtesy.

I walk past a man with a Rolex, slip it of his wrist. He turns around but I’m already gone. “What’d you get?” Wyatt asks. We walk towards his car. “Two purses, a ring, and a watch.” “Slow work?” “Next time how bout we don’t case a building full of brainiacs!” “Rich! Rich brainiacs!” “Yeah, rich brainiacs with cameras! Let’s go idiot!” “I’m goin!” “That’s her! That woman stole my watch!” I hear the man from earlier yell. “Wyatt, switch me spots!” “Stop in the name of the law!” “Today junior!” He pulls over and we swap seats. “Hope your a good actor Carmen!” I turn my long, brown hair, into a short, blonde, bob. Then my olive skin pale and freckled. Then my brown eyes blue, and my black dress, red. An officer and the man with the watch’s stalk up to my window. “Miss, I’ll need you to step out of the car.” I step out and smile. “Is there a problem officer?” “Yes, this man claims you stole his watch.” ”Excuse me? Why would you think that?” “Were you just in there?” “Why yes. Yes I was. But I assure you I have no such watch!” “Might I ask why you left in such a hurry?” “My brother,” I gesture to Wyatt, “Has a doctor appointment and his car got totaled so he asked me to pick him up. He has to be there in less than an hour. So you’d understand why I’d like to get along.” “Likely story.” The man spits. “I have a footage of you pocketing my watch! ” He holds up a grainy picture of me slipping it off his wrist. “Excuse me sir but that’s not me and as I said before I have to get to that appointment! So if you’d just leave me alone that would be very, very, appreciated!” I fume. The man looks back an forth between the photo and real life. “Oh my, your right. I am so sorry mam! How could I ever repay you! Here, for your troubles! I hope you have a blessed day! Sorry again!” The man hands me a hundred dollar bill. Geez, I should make rich people apologize more often. The walk away and Wyatt bursts into a fit of giggles. I change back into my original form and sigh. “For a brainiac he sure is stupid! My eyes kept changing color! Anyway here’s his ‘please don’t sue me’ bribe.” “Sweet! Now come on! My little brothers gonna have a heart attack if we aren’t at the bus stop.” We switch spots and Wyatt puts his foot on the gas. We make it to the bus stop about two minutes before the bus actually got there. I change into a woman in her thirty’s or so and pick up my six year old brother. Some times shapeshifting doesn’t suck. But anxiety attacks suck that’s for sure. It’s how Wyatt found out. I had invited him over for coffee and my hand kept changing species and my eyes kept turning multiple colors. When I lost the house he helped out with Jack and now he’s quite the get away driver.

                  (Not my best! Enjoy!!)

“I caught the girl!” Felix calls out to the first Aero Army soldiers we see, dragging me along behind him. I’m struggling, because I have to, but I’m regretting it already.

Look, I may have been in a few… situations, okay? I’ve been tied up before, once or twice, but generally I have the ability to make myself thinner in order to escape easily. Like this, though… in a plan like this…

Well, these knots are going to be awful to undo, and I don’t envy the one who has to do it.

“Really, Sparks?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What’s her name, then?” another one asks, taking the end of the rope from Felix’s hands and yanking it — hard enough to send me to the floor.

“Hm. Such a pretty girl, isn’t she?”

“If you want to—“

“How about we, uh, don’t do that?” Felix interrupts, looking as uncomfortable as I feel. Sometimes it’s easy to forget he’s only fifteen, because he sure as hell doesn’t act like it.

“Go and see if you can make any more miraculous captures, Sparks,” the first speaker says, altogether too roughly. “I’ll search the lower decks, you check the upper ones. Mariott, you can do what you want with her.”

There’s a couple of, well, tiny complications in that.

What I think Mariott wants to do with me isn’t exactly something I’d like to participate in. Ever.

At all. It’s just not… I don’t want to do this.

For another, and probably more important than my opinion on all this… I’ve not changed anything that didn’t need to be changed to look like Gwen.

Since Gwendolyn doesn’t exactly walk around naked, showing anything off for the world to see… look, I’m sure you know where I’m going with this.

But I guess I have to try, don’t I?

I can’t ruin the plan because I’m uncomfortable, and I definitely can’t ruin it because I’m not a perfect girl.

So I try my hardest to keep calm and change it without Mariott noticing.

And when he does what I expected, I let myself cry. I’m sure that’s the reaction he wanted.

“So… how are we doing this?” Gwendolyn asked, glancing around at the rest of us. “I don’t see how we’re going to trick both the Raiders and the Aero Army into giving up?”

“You’ve got a point,” Jess nodded. “I suppose handing you over would work…”

“But-!”

“Okay, nobody’s handing anyone else to anyone!” Adrian snapped, looking about as exasperated as I’ve ever seen him.

“Felix can take me instead?”

Everyone — and I mean everyone, Adrian included, and he’s had the most experience with my schemes — turned to give me strange looks at that.

“Hey, uh, Kit, you really don’t look that much like Gwendolyn,” Ramona said slowly. “And surely everyone would know that you’re not one of the Raiders?”

“Ah, I don’t look like Gwendolyn now… but I can if you want me to?”

Without actually waiting for any response (whether it be positive, negative, or a ‘what the fuck do you mean?’), I concentrated as best I could with the loud shouts from upstairs.

Short red hair became long and dark brown and wild, hazel eyes became blue, and while I’ve never been brilliant at girls… well, it’s convincing enough.

Gwendolyn’s face dropped as she looked at me. As if she was seeing someone else entirely.

“So?”

“Since when could you do that?”

I expected Adrian to ask that.

He’s known me since we were what, five, and funnily enough I’ve never told him that I’ve always been able to do this. To shapeshift… I mean, why would I tell him?

“Since, uh, forever?”

“You need to do the scar as well, you know,” Felix commented, sounding almost impressed. “Nobody would be convinced by that without it.”

“I… I don’t really do scars that well.”

Scars have this nasty habit of not going away properly. I’m not crazy enough to blind myself for a ruse like this.

“I can sort that out,” Jess announced, grabbing my wrist and whirling me round to face her. “We just need to do what isn’t hidden by that eyepatch of yours, Gwen, and then we’re good to go.”

The intense heat of the desert did not stop the townspeople from being so friendly. Aimee rode on, thoughts of the strange boy from earlier in her head. Giving the occasional flap of her black stallion’s reins, Storm, his hooves gently clunking against the barren desert ground. She pulled her dark amber cloak over her face and eyes as the dust picked up, and Storm rode on faster. She waved cheerfully towards the townspeople, hearing the jingling of coins, smell of old parchment, and the soft breathing of her own horse. She met a smaller village, with maybe one or two houses, spun Storm around and hopped off, giving him a gentle pat. ‘You stay there, boy,’ she said calmly, walking over to the sand coloured house. It had clay pots and clay pans covering the windows, all ranging from blue to red to yellow. Shifting over quickly, she knocked on the open wooden door.

‘Hm?’ turned the person in the house. It was a younger woman with her blonde hair loosely on her shoulders. She gave a small smile. ‘Ah, just the person I needed to see.’ ‘Sorry, Iris, I’m not staying long.’ ‘Oh,’ replied Iris, resting her hands on the front of her desk, ‘that’s all right. What are you here for?’ ‘I was wondering,’ mumbled Aimee, running her hand down all the pots and pans tied up from the ceiling so that they made gentle clanking noises, ‘if you had seen Disan anywhere.’ ‘That poor boy?’ asked Iris. ‘I’m sure he’s somewhere in the forest. Playing with all the dogs, I suppose.’ Aimee chuckled. ‘That’s all he is to you, just a boy playing with animals?’ ‘Well,’ said Iris. ‘He’s just a happy little spirit, isn’t he?’ ‘I guess so. Thanks, I’ll see you later, Iris.’ ‘Don’t forget to stop by again soon!’

Aimee jogged back outside and gave Storm a pat. ‘I can’t take you,’ she said, Storm whining. ‘It’s not safe there.’ Saying her goodbyes, she ran into the forest, a long iron spear protruding through the back of her amber cloak. The wind whistled throughout the trees, ducking and weaving, causing the branches to shuffle, so she headed further on, deeper into the forest. She was met by six or less grey wolves all seeming to be playing together. Disan sat idly, not moving whatsoever, as the wolves jumped around and howled with glee, until their eyes locked with Aimee’s. A growl crackled in the back of their throats, rumbling the ground fiercely. One of the wolves, with bright green eyes, stood in front of Aimee, as though he was protecting her. The others backed off. The wolf suddenly stopped in motion. Disan quickly hustled over to Aimee. ‘Sorry about them,’ the young boy said, his bright green eyes twinkling. ‘I try to stop them, but it stops my human form from doing much.’ ‘No, no,’ said Aimee, dazed. ‘What you can do is so, so special. Iris doesn’t even understand the likes of it.’ ‘I know,’ frowned Disan. ‘I showed her at least seven times and she still thinks I talk to animals like they’re my best friends.’ ‘Well, you do, don’t you?’ Disan narrowed his eyebrows and swept away. ‘That’s not the point, silly.’ ‘I know, I know.’ He bent down and patted the wolf that had protected Aimee. ‘I call him Fritz,’ he said, ruffling the wolf’s ears. ‘He knows what I do.’ ‘Does he really?’ said Aimee. ‘That’s cool.’ Fritz shifted off and went to play with the other wolves.

"Run ! We must run Xavier!"

"I can not run any longer dear brother" Xavier falls to his knees finally giving up on running, he was becoming weaker with every second that passed"leave ,let them only catch me Merlin ,I am to weak brother "

"No I will not leave you here to die" Merlin refused to let them take him or his brother , he lifts Xavier off the forest grounds and speeded off in a flash .

Merlin could smell the scent of the enemies getting closer,His eyes changed to a golden brown as he transformed Into a black and gray wolf with his brother laying on his back of fur.

An arrow flys hitting his shoulder , he howls in pain as he kept going , another hits the back of his paw he growls and stops in the middle of the forest ,all he could hear was the sound of the trees swaying with the wind .

"Give it up Merlin your brother is dying, we can help all you have to do is join us" Merlin turns to see he was surrounded he glares at the man who had just spoke to him.

"We will NEVER join you tobin !, we are not vampires" he growled to the man in the silver red cloak .

"Ah that you are correct about ,you and your brother are special a mixture of your father a werewolf and your mother a vampire , you two are gifted children"

"Gifted? No such thing , this is a curse , I know it was you who killed our father,there is nothing you can say to make us apart of your army" the vampire was not pleased with Merlin's words , he looks at the young boy who was in his wolf form.

"Very well then you leave me no choice dear nephew" Tobin snaps his fingers ,twelve vampires attacked the young hybrid as he tried to fight them all at once , clawing and biting ,in the end Merlin had won he transforms back into a human and walks over to his brother who he has laid on a tree before the fight .

"Xavier ,are you alright my dear brother ? " Xavier weakly looks up to his brother , he starts coughing "relax we will get to midnight fall's I promise" Merlin said smiling at his older brother.

"Merlin look ou-" it was to late , Merlin's smile faded as did his life , he slowly looks down to see the golden sword of darkness in his chest dripping his blood on to Xavier's hands.

Merlin looks up at his brother who was now trying to stand , tears formed in both there eyes "farewell dear brother" those was the last words spoken by Merlin before he fell face first on to the forest dirt.

Tobin takes the sword out from Merlin's lifeless back and wipes it with a white clothe "we only need one of you anyways " Xavier couldn't speak or move his body wouldn't let him,he felt cold as if he laid in a pile of snow all he could do was let his tears run down his cheek as he howled in torment for the lost of his only brother .

“Hello big boy this is 888 HOT BABE come tell Candy what you want, stud?” “Um, no I don’t like that.” “I’m so bad and you’re so strong. Little Candy is just a naughty girl who needs a spanking.” “No! I don’t want a sub.” “How dare you raise your voice to Mistress Candace—“ “Not a dominatrix, I don’t want that either. Please, I just want to talk to someone, someone real. Can’t you just be real?” Silence. The sex line operator sighed. “I’m not allowed.” “What?” “I’m in a one story warehouse in a craptastic strip mall in a sea of other sex workers and my shift manager is giving me the stink eye. I’m not allowed to be myself for another six and a half hours.” “Oh, I guess I’ll go.” “I can listen for real.” “Really.” “Of course, I know what it’s like to need to be heard, to just want to be heard, to not be lonely. I can’t be me but I can be here for you.” —- Marlene walked over to Russell with a jelly donut and a Diet Coke. “That one must be a record. Two hours. How do you do, bro,” Marlene said. “I’m flippin’ exhausted. I always get the wackadoodles. I’d rather just get a string of horny dads,” Russell answered, rubbing the back his neck. “Good work, Russell,” Ruth the shift manager said. “Maybe next week you can train some of the other operators on how to improve their hang time.” Ruth patted his back and Marlena took a generous bite out of Russell’s donut as Russell turned back to his ringing phone. “Hello big boy this is 888 HOT BABE come tell Candy what you want, stud?”