The gardens were beautiful; filled with lush greenery and fragrant flowers of every variety. I clung to Gavril as we made our way deeper into the sheltered courtyard. A small creature, they looked to be a gnome, peeked out from behind a bush of thriving plumeria and waved to the King.  

“Goo' day, yar majesty,” they spoke with a lilting accent that reminded me of the countryside, “I hope yar well.” 

Gavril nodded his head in greeting and turned his attention to me, “This is our resident head of the palace gardens.” 

The gnome bowed and grasped my hand in their stubby fingers, “It’s a pleasure to meet ya ma’am,” they grinned revealing several rows of flat teeth, “I am Jirina.” 

I clasped their hands, studying their kind face with a smile, “The pleasure is all mine, Jirina,” something tugged at the edge of my mind; a memory of sorts that made me chuckle, “your name...Jirina. It means ‘earth worker,’ yes?” 

Their face lit up and they started hopping from one foot to the other, “Yes, ma’am! It does!” they leaned in close, and the scent of wet dirt and grass tickled my nose, “What’s your name, ma’am?” 

“Asajj Éinri,” they stopped dancing, and their eyes went wide, “It’s a family name.” 

They nodded slowly, glancing at Gavril. 

“I must be going, yar majesty,” their previously joyful tone was now serious, “ ‘Twas nice meetin’ ya, Lady Asajj.” 

They scurried off through the undergrowth that bordered the path, leaving us to stare after them. 

“Interesting...” 

Gavril made a noise of agreement then took my hand, linking arms once more. We strode for a while in silence, the warm air and pleasant smells of the garden adding to the serenity of the moment. It had been a while since I had done something nice with someone else outside of the school. With Maysie, we mostly studied and just hung out. But this felt...different.  

Gavril and I lay in a sunny patch of grass, staring up at the color-stained glass of the courtyard ceilings. My arm was still linked with his and our shoulders touched, reminding me of his golden presence.  

“What is Nuatimere like?” 

He sounded like a young boy, curious and innocent as he broke our steady silence. 

“Big,” I recalled the city near my home fondly as I hummed, “and really busy,” I turned to look at him, and smiled, “You smell the same; sweet and salty...like the festivals and the ocean and the sun.” 

His ears grew red, and he cleared his throat, prompting another burst of laughter from me. 

“And your family? You said your name was a family name,” he looked down at me and pointed at his own chest, “My name was my grandfather’s, so when he died, my father named me after him...and no one in my family will possess my name until after I die.” 

“Yes. My family was the same... But they’re all gone now,” my smile faded, “Your name means hero of the gods. Mine means royal home-ruler.” 

He sat up in surprise, “Are you nobility then?” 

I remained in the grass, staring up at him, “No...no, not for a long time,” he tilted his head, encouraging me to continue, “Once, before kings and kingdoms and courts and lands divided, there was a young god who made their way to our realm. They were impossible in size and commanded respect wherever they went. The reason for their sudden appearance was unknown and the creatures of the old continent took them as a sign of good fortune from above. 

“But as time passed in this mortal realm, hundreds of thousands of years, the god grew weaker and weaker. You see, gods were never meant to live amongst us. They should have never stayed. And in their weakened state, the god had lost the power to return home to the Astral realm. A few creatures noticed the god, slowly dying, and devised a truly horrible and cruel plan. 

“They decided that they wanted to use the god for what power they had left. The creatures promised the god a way home in return for its power, and the god, blinded by sadness and desperation, agreed. They lent their power to the creatures, aiding them to become more and more powerful. The god granted them a life that never seemed to end and riches that seemed to never run out. But it wasn’t enough for the creatures. They were hell-bent on becoming gods themselves. They believed that the god, now barely able to move from where they lay on this earth, could make them gods.  

“Now, there were others who knew of this terrible plan; a small clan of Ole Fay who called themselves Al‘Ata Éinri,” At this Gavril’s eyes lit up and his lips twitched, “the name means ‘Heaven’s Home Rulers.’ They had been decedents of an ancient god, whose name is no longer known, but they believed it their duty to save this trapped god. They devised a plan and overthrew the creatures with the help of the 11th High Witch and a few other clans of Ole Fay. The war was not much of a war; more of battle between creatures of evil and creatures of faith. But in the end, the god did die...here, in this realm. Somewhere deep in the earth lies its bones and a shrine that my family built to send them back to their home...even in death. The god, however, before dying, gave my family 4 gifts; eyes that could see all that is true, hands that could heal even the most fatal of wounds, souls that know no fear... and-” 

I paused and touched my temple lightly. 

There was something else. Something important. 

“What?” Gavril leaned in close, his scent of sweet ocean spray making it hard to think, “What else did they give you?” 

“I don’t-” I wracked my brain for any inkling of memory, “I don’t remember.” 

Eyes that could see, hands that could heal, souls that could love, and- Something else! With the number of times my aunts had told me that story as a young child, it should have been impossible to forget. 

I closed my eyes and breathed a heavy sigh, Gavril’s tangable curiosity weighing the air with heavy anticipation.  

Eyes; I brought a hand to my eyes. Hands; I felt the scared surface of my palms. Soul; I brushed my chest and felt power surge through my core. And... 

I shot up nearly running into the King and spun to face him excitedly, “And lips!” 

He glanced down at my mouth and swallowed hard, a flush creeping up his neck, “U-um yeah...” 

Rolling my eyes I grinned and furrowed my brow, “No, Gavril,” I leaned in close and whispered in a low tone, “Lips that will never lie.” 

He stared at me a moment, a small smile tugging at his lips, “You can’t lie? 

I hesitated and started to retreat, only for him to grab my hand as I nodding slowly, “P-please don’t-” 

“Your ancestors...does that mean that you are Fay?” 

Biting my lip, I shivered, an invisible force paining me like a searing rod until I nodded once more, my eyes watering with pain.  

He gripped my hand harder, but not painfully and searched my face, “I could tell,” he chuckled and brought his other hand to my face to wipe away a tear that had broken free of its prision of lang lashes, “No human is this intriguing.” 

Bubbling laughter escaped my lips, “What do you mean?” 

He didn’t laugh with me though, keeping a serious face as his eyes bore intensely into mine, “Your eyes are the most beautiful ones that have ever glared at me,” I glared mockingly, wrinckling my nose at his brazen words, “and you are so very-.” 

At that very moment a deep accent, familiar and welcome, rang through the air. 

“Gavril, you have your meeting with the Council!” Endymion’s voice seemed sharper than it had been this early this morning, “The High Witch called the meeting on short notice...says it’s important...Gavril!”