It was getting late. At least, that’s what Cass’ watch said. It was impossible to tell the time down here. Either way, we had to get moving soon. Even if we had an advantage in these confined spaces, the injuries we’d all sustained meant that a fight wouldn’t end well. All it would take is a single scout coming down here and telling Cyrus of our condition, and our fragile safety would crumble around us. We had to leave tonight.

That’s why I was alone now, limping my way up a dark stairwell, as tears streamed down my face. I just had to hope this worked, and that Erica and Cass could get away.

I pushed through the trap door above me, climbing out of Cyrus’ lair, shuffling my way out of the house that served as its entrance. In the dim light of the village, I stared down the barrel of a dozen guns as Cyrus, already partially transformed, gave me an odd look. I opened my mouth to speak, but my injured leg chose that moment to give out, and I fell to the ground, curled up in the dirt weeping.

I felt the first hints of his presence poking at the edge of my mind as Cyrus slowly crept towards me, clearly expecting a trick. There was one, but not the kind he expected. I waited for his presence to take root, sniffling and shaking at his feet. Finally, he reached out fully, teasing out real, genuine sorrow. Pulling heartache and grief and regret from the very depths of my soul. I would’ve smiled if I was able, as the emotions I’d been doing my damndest to fake suddenly became very real. In the back of my mind, the predatory, reptilian part of me was laughing. Help me lie to you, Cyrus. Make me believe it too, just for a moment.

He placed his hand on my arm, his thumb trailing circles on my shoulder.

“What happened, Little Moon?”

It took me a few seconds to process what he’d said. My mind had begun trying to justify the emotions he was drawing out. They were probably all dead, weren’t they? The family that I’d left behind when I left for college, my few friends in my hometown, and Willow. I had nothing, nobody, and it hurt.

My mother would never know my name. Not my real one. With gasping breaths, I managed to squeak out the lie that I’d practiced.

“I couldn’t… I- I couldn’t save her! The a-angel thing k-killed Cass, a-and it cut me, and Erica bled out before I could save her!”

I was heaving and shaking, my body wracked by sobs. I’d never get to be a normal girl. I’d missed my chance. By the time I’d realized who I was, the whole world had ended, and my ordinary life had just blown past.

“What was the point? What the hell even matters anymore?!?”

He’d picked me up now, and was holding me closely to him. Entirely unbothered by the fact that he was the reason I felt this way to begin with. I didn’t care. Nothing mattered anymore. If an egg hatches in the woods, and nobody’s around to see it, is it really trans? A wild, manic laughter erupted amidst the pain for just a moment, before it was drowned in wordless sorrow once again.

“It’s ok… I know you cared about them, and I’m sorry it came to this, but you’re safe now. You don’t have to hurt anymore, you don’t have to be alone. You can stay here, with us, and you’ll never have to fight again, Little Moon.”

A comforting warmth blossomed within me, reaching out towards the pain and the guilt and the regret and silencing it, bit by bit.

“My name… is Aoife.”

He smiled as he brushed my hair out of my face, wiping away a tear in the process.

“Then it’s nice to finally meet you, Aoife.”

Hearing my name felt good, even coming from him. He was being honest too, I could stay here. I could live here, and there’d be a whole village of people who’d say my name. The comforting, calm feeling spread even further, and I found myself drifting. My eyes fluttered as I started to drift towards sleep.

Shit.

Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit!

Redirect it, angle it somewhere productive! I thought if I directed my feelings towards dysphoria, I could keep a handle on things, but then he said my name, and his presence shifted to good feelings, and the dysphoria shifted with it. Wave after wave of comforting euphoria at being called the right name, of a whole town of people who only ever knew the real me, started stripping away the will to fight.

Erica was home! Cass was home! They were comfort! They were the ones who actually gave a shit, and these bastards tried to kill them!

I wasn’t sure how long it had been, somewhere in the midst of Cyrus’ power, I’d lost all sense of time, but the moon was high in the sky now. Surely it had been long enough, surely I’d bought them enough time. I threw a lazy smile up towards Cyrus, his golden eyes staring down at me, Erica and Cass were safe, and that was very comforting indeed. I stretched my arms over my head, breathing in deep. Just another cozy sigh.

Cyrus was still holding me gently, grinning down at me, when a rolling wave of ice and fury completely engulfed his arrogant face.

Willow

This was it. When dawn finally broke, I’d go down to the river and see if a dragon can’t be reasoned with. I’d spent the last few days concocting plans and making preparations, and with the help of the garden, I had several already in place. I’d find it, try to talk to it rationally, and if that didn’t work, we’d throw down. The plants had been hard at work producing poisons of all kinds, aerosolized and packaged in convenient, natural pods. I had no clue whether any of them would work on a dragon, and neither did the plants, but it was better than nothing. Spruce and the other treants had been training their throwing arms as well, a few of them were even strong enough to toss a car, and of course, if all else failed, each of the plants had stored away plenty of seeds, and on the off chance they were still alive, I’d written a note for A, so they’d know where I was. I planned a route away from the river and out into the country. If nothing else worked, I could run away, and the garden would live on.

I was lying awake, fretting over the finer details of the plan, when a sudden crash came from outside. Quickly, I grabbed a kitchen knife I kept nearby and sprinted outside. Two figures were suspended in the air, held fast by a network of vines. One seemed to be an older woman, probably in her fifties or early sixties, with a revolver at her belt and a golden sword still gripped tightly in her hands. The other was… was that a minotaur? Yep, a massive, ripped bull lady was suspended right alongside her. The minotaur stared down at me inquisitively, cocking her head slightly.

“Hey lil’ fairy. We’re looking for someone named Willow, and this is supposed to be her house. Maybe you could let us down, and we can talk this out?”

“I…”

“We’re A’s friends, by the way. Sh-they are in some serious trouble right now, so if this crazy plant stuff was all you, we could really use your help.”

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