19. nikolaus

She watched the flames flicker indecisively, wondering what willed them to bend a certain direction or not.

A coat of wolf fur, aided with the fire she sat in front of, kept her warm. She had not seen Alastair since the night before at Aerwyn's funeral. Caspian notified her that the fae had locked herself away in the tree cabin again, pacing around and keeping watch. He'd urged the girl to give the fae some space, for "fire also needs oxygen to breathe."

She'd mostly been spending her time with the earth and air fae, with Catori alongside her. The Earthling kids had not been running around causing mischief like they usually did, and Ilmari stayed huddled in his cottage in Aerwyn's room, looking sadly through his father's things while Abitha occasionally checked in on him.

Catori stepped out of her cottage and saw the girl sitting in front of the incessantly burning bonfire, her gilded hair covered by the hood of the wolf's fur coat she had lent her. She was holding a mug of tea from Abitha's teapot, steam iridescently lingering up towards her nose. She was in some sort of trance, the light from the fire illuminating her skin. She was hugging herself, leaned slightly over to keep herself warm, as her human nature made her more susceptible to the whims of nature—rather, the whims of Eira's ice.

Wrapping her knitted shawl around her colorful wings that shivered from the cold, Catori walked towards the girl. "Is it a prophecy you see in that fire?" she jested, visibly frightening the human who jumped at the sound of her voice and tore her eyes away from the fire.

Nyx watched Catori sit down on the log beside her. "Oh... no," she mumbled, taking a sip of her warm tea and swallowing gratefully.

The fae leaned over until her shoulder was touching Nyx's. "Well, if you catch sight of one, be sure to tell me." She smiled at the girl who gave a pitiful excuse for one back before leaning away and crossing her ankles.

Nyx glanced over and noticed an almost obscure bump in Catori's abdomen. "Are you excited?"

Catori somehow knew what the girl was referencing. "More than I ever have been," the fae answered with a surprisingly confident answer, her tan lips curving into a warm smile. "Although, it feels different than I had expected."

"How so?"

The fae's wings moved under her shawl, her pointy ears pressing tight against her skull as she smiled wider. "I didn't expect the instincts to kick in so quickly. Although the only thing in my womb is a collection of cells not even yet a fetus, I feel a maternal instinct in everything I do. I have never been so passionate in cooking a meal as I was tonight."

Nyx chuckled and rubbed her thumb over the rim of the mug in her soft hands. "It was the best ham I've ever tasted."

Catori nodded thankfully. "I also feel more angry." Her smile faltered only slightly. "Angry at this world, angry at the things I have to protect my child from, the things I may have to do to protect them." She placed a hand on her stomach as she, too, gazed into the fire. "But I would be angry for the rest of my life as long as I keep them from harm."

Nyx's eyes fell back to the fire, and she gulped a hard lump in her throat as she thought about her mother and father. She wondered if they felt that way when they first learned Valerie was pregnant. She wondered if they dreamed of a future with the three of them happy, safe, protected. She wondered if they ever even had the time to dream. The timeline was still hard for her to grasp.

She had no doubt that Valerie felt those instincts from the moment she was pregnant throughout Nyx's entire life. Her mother was not shy to show it in everything she did. Nyx still felt bitter for all the things she had kept secret from her, but at the same time she was grateful. She thought about Erlin, Ilmari, the Earthlings, and every other younger fae who had to grow up in war. Nyx grew up beautifully and serenely ignorant to the pain and suffering that touched every corner of this species.

She felt stupid for the thought even crossing her head, but she could not help but feel that natural need for parental approval. She had it from Valerie, which was enough, but she wondered what her father thought—would have thought about her. Did he want her to be unknowing of his life and the world he grew up in? Would he have thought her brave and strong and kind the way everyone talked about him being those things? She often did not feel strong. Even before all of this, she had always felt like she was teetering on the edge of something fatal. Perhaps it was just her intuition, or the fatality she was born into.

Nyx had never met her father, but she somehow missed him. She grieved the loss of something she never had, which was a death in its own.

A hand captured hers. "He is with you, Nyx," Catori whispered.

The girl's eyes flashed to Catori's soft brown ones, and she only then realized that she had been crying. Catori noticed the way the gold came out of her brown eyes and nearly glittered in the firelight, and it made her remember.

"What?" Nyx breathed, her blonde brows creasing.

"He is with you, all the time," Catori repeated. Nyx felt a buzzing on her hand, and she looked down to see that Catori's hand was glowing blue from the inside out, as if the light was radiating from her bones. She looked back up to Catori to see that she was looking ahead at something, and when Nyx's eyes followed hers, she gasped.

Though she had never seen him before, she recognized him immediately. He looked the same age as her, but it was him—her father.

A glowing blue light circled his figure that stood right beside the bonfire. His short, wavy hair was a dark golden blonde, just like hers, and his eyes were pools of the brightest gold she had ever seen. It was like they were pools that would drip golden tears if he moved too fast. His wings matched the color of his features, spreading out behind him and glittering.

He was smiling softly at her, his golden eyes full of love and admiration. Although she was seeing him with her own eyes, his figure was translucent and hued with the blue light circling him. His feet were not touching the ground, but levitating just a few inches from it.

She smiled, and the tears finally fell from her eyes. She wanted to run to him, to put him in her palms and tuck him away inside her pocket forever. But he began to fade away, the warm smile growing on his face as he closed his eyes, and then his figure faded into nothingness, and the blue light disappeared. Now all she saw was the cottages and the trees behind them.

She looked back down to see that Catori's hand, letting go of hers, was her normal tan hue again. "What was that?!" she breathed, looking up at the fae who looked slightly tired from the use of her powers.

"Like I told you, Nyx," Catori began, her eyes noticing the way Nyx's tears glittered softly on her cheeks. "He is always with you."

♔

"C-Catori conj-ured my f-father."

The words ferociously beat upon the doors of her lips until she could no longer stand their primitive need to be let free. She had no reasoning on why she would feel the need to tell Alastair besides that she had no one else to tell it to. It had been eating away at her brain ever since it happened only hours ago at the bonfire.

Alastair had been only moments away from falling asleep. After keeping watch for over 24 hours, Abitha rather aggressively kicked her out of her own tree cabin and not-so-nicely ordered her to sleep. She had seen something unidentified flying around the perimeter of the camp right after sunset and before the moon had risen. Although she figured it had only been a hawk, it was too far away for her tired eyes to be able to tell.

To ensure the girl's upmost safety, Alastair had made a makeshift bed on the floor at the foot of her own bed made of a few quilts and a flattened pillow for the girl. She did not even trust her sleeping just a room away from her.

Also, she had to admit even to herself that she sort of missed the blonde. She'd always felt a strange sense of catharsis when she was around Nyx ever since she officially met the curious human weeks ago. And ever since she had laid her aching back down on the mattress and watched the girl huff and uncomfortably lie on her makeshift bed on the floor where she could no longer be seen, some sort of weight that had been drilling a concave sinkhole in her heart began lifting and swelling to its normal shape again. The invisible cracks in her ribcage mended, and whatever iron hand that had been gripping her heart for eighteen years eased slightly.

Having Nyx in the same room with her had some sort of healing energy on her. Alastair had been secretly investigating this weird sensation, and she sensed that others felt it, too, but not near as powerfully as she.

The fae's eyes opened and then forcefully squeezed back shut. "What?" She had heard the girl very clearly, but she was unable to grasp the meaning of the words she spoke.

Nyx buried her face into the pillow and hugged herself tighter, convulsing on the ground on which she laid from the ferocity of the cold. The quilt beneath her and the quilt above her, and her dress and cloak were not enough to warm her mortal flesh. Everyone had agreed to put out all the fires at night ever since the attack so that the ice fae would not be able to easily locate them should they come looking for them in the night.

"C-C-C," she stuttered, able to hear her own teeth chattering inside her skull. She hugged herself tighter and breathed out, fog encircling her face as she did.

Alastair could hear her writhing on the floor, and it suddenly dawned on her that not everyone was made of fire and not everyone was fae. She and everyone else had a consistent habit of forgetting Nyx was a hundred times more fragile than they.

She thought about finding her more blankets, but even the cold air could cause the girl to fall ill in no time. She opened her eyes again and forced herself to wake, hesitating for a few moments. Finally, she huffed silently and said, "Well, get up here then, if your chattering teeth are going to keep me awake all night."

Nyx had not heard her correctly—she was too focused on squeezing herself into a tight ball.

"Nyx," Alastair repeated, hoping for a moment that the girl hadn't turned into an icicle already. "Come here," she said louder but beckoning tone, and this time Nyx heard her clearly.

The girl paused for a moment, taken off guard by the fae's offer for her to join her on her bed. The painful coldness in her body overlapped her judgment, and she carefully rose to her feet, leant over slightly as she walked over to the bed, dragging her quilts with her. Alastair moved to the other side of the bed, and Nyx carefully clambered onto the mattress, plopping her smaller body down and covering herself up with both quilts.

She could feel the warm area where Alastair's body had been laying, and it offered her a sweet but temporary respite, for the warmth was quickly pushed out with more cold. Laying on her side and facing Alastair, Nyx opened her eyes to see the fae was uncomfortably tucking her wings as close to her body as she could to avoid trespassing into Nyx's new ownership of the other side of the bed.

"You humans really are weak little things, aren't you?" the fae mumbled, but Nyx had again closed her eyes and buried her face into the pillow. Alastair could see how painful the cold was for Nyx, and something inside her tugged sharply on her heart. Sighing, she turned.

Suddenly, Nyx felt warmth wash over her entire body, immediately stilling her convulsions and erasing the goosebumps on her skin. She felt a weight on her waist, and she opened her eyes and gasped. Alastair's face was now inches from hers, her warm arm laying loosely over her body. That single touch and their proximity alone was enough to suffice for warmth, but Nyx felt wholly and amazingly comfortable when the fae's left wing branched outwards and encompassed the girl, its strength pulling her even closer.

Nyx's golden brown eyes were wide open now. She had never been so close to Alastair in all their time together. She had never seen those vermilion irises with such clarified observation. Alastair suddenly seemed completely and totally real to her. Before, it was like she had only been watching a fireplace, like the one she always watched at home with Valerie. Now, it felt as if she was dangling her fingertips right in the flames.

She could feel the warmth seeping into her bones, and she knew that Alastair was not even intentionally producing any heat with her powers. This was her all-natural warmth, the fire stained in her skin for eternity. Even her breath that fanned on her face was warm like a passing spring breeze. She was summer incarnate.

Nyx's eyes raked over Alastair's face. Her dark eyebrows, eternally sewn together, the thick eyelashes coating her eyelids, her sharp nose, her cheekbones on which the moonlight from the window passed, her lips, red and plump. She was all too real to her now—her fingertips now made her entire arm jealous of the fire they probed.

So she carefully, and very slowly, reached her hand outwards to touch the chestnut locks that were strewn thickly over Alastair's shoulder. She watched the fae's eyes, expecting her to pull away or to become angry at the uninvited touch, but the fae made no movement or emotion. Her eyes returned Nyx's stare steadily and evenly, and the girl even convinced herself she saw an invitation in those swarming pupils.

Her fingertips touched the fae's soft, silky hair. She let her fingers comb slowly through it, her eyes never leaving Alastair's. Although she could still see the invitation, she could also see an instinctual defensiveness at the touch. She could not blame the fae. Although she did not know every detail of what Alastair had been through, she could tell enough to know that the fae was a walking warrior.

"You said Catori conjured Nikolaus?" the fae whispered, her languid voice catching the girl from her intent focus on the fae.

Nyx nodded, her once pale cheeks now full of color from the warmth. She continued to stroke the fae's hair, letting her hand rise a bit further. "Has she ever conjured him before?"

"No," she answered, her eyes falling to the girl's lips as she spoke. She felt a strange sense of softness within her that she had never felt before. "Spirit fae are picky with who they conjure. The spirit in question has to have enough energy in it to even be conjured." Her eyes returned to Nyx's golden ones that reminded her so much of Nikolaus'. "He has never had enough energy until now." The girl met her stare. "You feed his spirit."

Nyx's lips pursed as she digested that fact. "Catori said he is always with me. I've never really felt him around, but seeing him..." she trailed. "Seeing him was so familiar. I feel like perhaps I may have dreamed of him before but then forgotten once I awoke."

"It may have been like looking into a mirror," Alastair gently added. "You take after him much more than Val."

Nyx's fingers accidentally brushed against the fae's ear, and she felt it perk underneath her touch. She retracted her hand in surprise, but when she saw a notion of trust in Alastair's eyes, she returned her hand to the fae's soft ear and smiled as she stroked it, sensing that it was a sensitive spot.

Thinking about her own father made her remember what Caspian had said earlier at Aerwyn's burial about Alastair being hard on herself because of her own father. In any other moment, she wouldn't have dared to prod into the defensive fae's personal life and past, but this was an obvious moment of trust between them that she feared she may have never gotten again.

"You must have had parents," she started, pausing her hand and evaluating Alastair's reaction. She could see her eyes widen in surprise as the sudden turn in subject, but her eyes which were currently placid did not flare in anger. She continued, "At some point or another."

Alastair mentally wondered whether or not she should delve into the topic of her past, but the thought of making Nyx privy to the most sensitive wound in her life did not frighten her as much as she wanted it to. Again, she felt the sweet, tender feeling of catharsis overcome her as she looked into those gentle golden eyes.

"I did," she mumbled. "And a sister." She paused.

"What happened?" Nyx urged.

Al's eyes fell to Nyx's neck. "My father passed when I was a teenager from an illness. His death wasn't much of a mourning, considering how harsh he was."

"Harsh?" she echoed.

"He was even more fiery than I," she said with a bitter laugh. "He was angry and cruel to my mother and sister, but especially to me. They were both water fae, and I was his only fire heir, so he expected my life to reach his proud standards."

"Were?" she echoed again, noticing the fae's choice of words when referring to her mother and sister.

A flash of pain crossed the fae's face. Her jaw clenched, and the wing around Nyx's body tensed. "I lost them when the ice fae siezed the castle." She chewed her lip and held her breath, remembering the screams from that fateful day that echoed in her mind every night.

"So they could be alive?" Nyx whispered as Al stared blankly forward.

The fae closed her eyes as she remembered seeing Edlen for the last time, the look of fear and horror on her face before Alastair sent her into the woods.

Nyx could feel Al's grief seeping into her, and she slightly regretted prodding. "I'm sorry, Al," she whispered, and she ventured to place her hand gently on the fae's cheek, watching those eyes snap open. She could see liquid vulnerability pooling in them, and she was grateful that Al made no efforts to pull away.

She let her thumb trail the sharp edge of her warm cheekbone, reaching just to the corner of her lips. "You felt familiar, too," the girl whispered. "When I first saw you. I've dreamed of you before, maybe in another lifetime."

The intensity in Alastair's eyes surmounted. She was shocking herself at her comfort with the girl's touch. Her gentle palm that rest coolly at her cheek, the way it trailed boldly yet comfortingly to the side of her neck and onwards to her wing.

Nyx was almost in awe at the feel of the fae's silky feathers. The raven and crimson wing's muscles followed her hand from beneath the feathers, and it was then she realized the unforeseen vulnerability with which Al was showing her. Besides powers, a fae's wings were its ultimate source of power. They are the instruments to their flight, the conductor of their cloud-seeking awesomeness.

Her feathers, as expected, were warm against her skin. She let her hand trail over the muscular bend before reaching the middle where the muscles thinned and spread into less compact feathers. The fae was letting her hold her strength in her hand like it was nothing, but it was everything. It was everything.

Nyx's hand turned around the curve of the wing and trailed along the backside, up towards Alastair's back. She could feel the muscle turn into bone, and once she reached the base of the wing that connected to the fae's body, she felt a sharp, ragged indention right in the bone.

Alastair watched the girl's eyebrows sew together as her fingers stopped at the dent and gently ran back over in, fingers pressing into the depression softly. "Is that supposed to be there?"

For a moment, the fae could feel the memory of that ice fae's hands around her, the dizziness of falling, the hard thud of being driven into the earth. She remembered the pain, her screams that she could not hear through the ringing in her ears. Nyx watched as her eyes burned brighter.

"No," she whispered, her wing tensing painfully as the girl touched the spot that was still tender after eighteen years.

The girl almost asked where it came from, but she answered herself. She knew it was a battle scar, one that Eira must have inflicted on her. She felt anger swell within her at the thought of someone hurting Alastair in such a way. As she felt the dent, she could almost feel the pain.

Suddenly, the tenderness that once felt like a bruise as Nyx touched it suddenly disappeared. All Alastair could feel at the misshapen bone was a pleasant tingling that made her eyes widen too discreetly for Nyx to notice.

Not wanting to hurt the fae, Nyx removed her hand from the dent and instead let her fingers feel where the feather morphed into skin, and her hand slipped through the special slit in Alastair's soft maroon blouse and made contact with the warm skin of the fae's muscular, lean back. She could feel tiredness overcoming her. She wanted to keep talking to the fae, to enjoy every second of this pinnacle moment, but before she knew it, her eyes had closed.

Alastair watched the girl fall asleep with her hand still on her back through her shirt, and for a moment, she thought about moving away. But she stayed right where she was, not daring to move a muscle.

Exhaustion overcame her eventually. The fae let Nyx's peacefully sleeping face be the last thing she saw before she fell into the most peaceful sleep she had had in years, with her arm and wing around Nyx, and Nyx's arm and hand around her.