(This is a long one)

*****Vaelric*****

Silver threads pulse beneath the ground, guiding me toward the Thalrix, a gnarl of teeth and claws that slips between realms like a whisper.

Wind whips my hair free from its tie.

I am a breath of air, racing through the forest after the creature who stole from me. The leaves pulse with green thread energy, lighting my path. It smells cold, alive, and electric.

Between two branches, white threads pulse, too bright, too clean. A giant square of light seizes my attention. I’ve only ever seen white threads once before. It was two hundred years ago, and it was the day I lost my brother.

I’m the only Threadmage of my time. And if I can’t find this spot again, no one else ever will.

Sighing, I slow and let the Thalrix get away. It will cost me time to capture it later — and no shortage of mocking from Thevian. The white pulse draws me closer. In a trance, I remove my black leather glove from my right hand.

My fingers skim the threads, playing without thought. They hum with light and something deeper — like memory. My mind is screaming at me to stop, but I can’t. A grimace stretches my face as I step through.

Blinded, I take a few steps with my hands outstretched. The forest vanishes. And I fall.

My back lands on a bed of grass. The breath is knocked out of me. Otherwise, I’m okay.

Blinking several times, I see the threads are gone. Disappointment courses through me as emotions spiral out.

Anger sparks into fear, gone just as quickly. I’ve never been drawn into something against my will before. My powers have never felt so limitless and uncontrollable.

Shaking it off, I move towards the direction of the Thalrix. Except, everything is different. The green light of the plants is gone, as is the thread to the Thalrix, and it smells - foreign, like wet earth mixed with oak. This is not the same forest.

The only forests I’ve not been to are known for being dryer, colder, or contain red plantlife. I don’t know where I am. A portal - it’s the only explanation.

A bright yellow thread hums beneath the surface. Closer. Closer. Closer. I’ve never heard a thread sing this.

A clearing is up ahead, so I follow the yellow thread. Crouching, I peer through limbs only to find a road. It’s gray with painted yellow lines that run through the center. Strange.

There are no threads here, except for the yellow one. The road feels unnatural. I walk until I see buildings ahead of me alongside the road.

Shops? Perhaps, someone here can tell me what realm this is. But the road is empty. No one in sight.

The yellow thread leads me to a tall brick building with lights on inside and English words scribbled on the door window. Human words. My stomach drops.

The door is unlocked as I twist it open. The doorway is almost too short for my height, and I have to duck my head slightly to enter. But the ceilings are high.

Taking a deep breath in, the air is full of a pine scent, but it’s unlike any I’ve come across. And there are no trees inside. The room is long with rows of shelves holding books. They look shiny and new, unlike the worn tomes I’ve studied at home.

A girl stands behind a counter in the corner of the room, her attention on a blue brick in her hand. Her scent gives her away. Young. Female. Human.

Humans aren’t real. They are a tale told at night to keep children in bed. They are fireside stories to keep the boredom at bay.

My father said they were stories Fae told themselves when they needed a better ending. My sister swore they lurked in the shadows, waiting to steal your Tether the moment you close your eyes.

All the stories contradicted themselves. Some said humans were small and ugly, crawling and shrieking likes beasts. Others painted them as clever thieves, emotional and unstable. Humans were weak. Wild. Sad.

But the tomes, the ones nobles like me were forced to study, told another version. They called them a doomed species: selfish, scared, and endlessly grasping. Humans were creatures who cried and killed and consumed until their world burned. Their lives were short. Their legacy in ruins.

Only the insane truly believed in them. The stories were myths wrapped in warnings. And yet here one stands, pale-skinned, bright yellow hair, and impossibly real.

She is the height of a young Fae before they reach maturity. Her blue eyes flick back and forth at the block in front of her, paying me no attention. “Welcome in. Let me know if you need anything.” Her voice melodic and curt — like a bell you weren’t expecting to ring.

What stuns me isn’t her frazzled appearance, or even her strange sweet scent that’s far too human. It’s the thread pulsing within her — a visible golden heartbeat. She is the beginning and the end.

She is the life force of the yellow thread I’ve been following. And her thread is somehow tangled with mine, like a messy braid. My black thread glows green where it tangles with hers — like moss on stone, like life clinging to shadow.

————

*Junie*

The customer looks at the books. He is hidden by the stacks. I haven’t paid him much attention. Normally, I would be more welcoming to the customers, but I’m in a bit of a crisis.

My alarm didn’t go off this morning, or maybe I didn’t set it last night, but then I forgot my coffee at my house. Work has been hectic with deliveries coming in, and I accidently priced some notebooks incorrectly and had to go back and fix them. The whole morning has just been off. I thought maybe it had to do with my father’s wife, or really how I’ve been feeling about her.

My dad married a snake named Fiona two weeks ago. She’s twenty-nine — same as me — and wants to demolish the house I grew up in and build a mansion. She’s also trying to change everything about him, from his clothes to his voice. It’s like she’s making him her personal Ken doll.

I vented to Kit, my best friend. Accidentally sent the text to Fiona. Kill me.

So yeah. Rough morning.

Needless to say, my morning at the shop has been stressful. But I can fix this.

“Pardon me Miss, you have a lovely library.” The deep warm voice belongs to the tall stranger that walked in earlier. He’s standing on the other side of the desk giving me a half smile, showcasing a dimple.

“It’s not a library, or mine, but thanks,” I smirk back at him. His dark hair is just long enough that part of it is in a ponytail, but some of it is out.

But it’s his clothes that throw me off. His black jacket almost resembles a cape and reaches the floor. The black laced up boots match the jacket. A black shirt and black pants tie together his black ensemble. He looks like midnight and something sinister and cozy.

He looks like he stepped out of the dog-eared fantasy book I left open under the counter. Wow. Pointed ears. And they look really good too. He must be on the way to a convention or something. I think I even see a sword on his hip.

“My apologies.” His head dips down slightly. “My name is Vaeltakemeric Elden Kalfaland of Cirellen Hollow. What, pray, is this establishment with books that smell like new?”

Coughing, I hit my chest and try to hold in the laugh. This day is too crazy for me. “Well good sir, my name is Juniper Millsaps, but my friends call me Junie, and this is a bookstore.” When I give him my hand to shake, he holds it delicately and places a kiss on the back.

"Did you just kiss my hand? What is this, a Bridgerton cosplay?"

"Is that a noble house near here?"

My insides are at war with itself. This is the hottest guy I’ve ever seen, but he’s also maybe the craziest I’ve seen too. I take my hand back rather quickly.

“Juniper, I love that.” He smiles. “My friends call me Vaelric. A book-store?” He frowns.

“Books should not be for sale. They are a treasure to be -“

“Available for all to learn. Yeah, yeah. I get it Gandalf. Listen, I’ve got a lot going on today. What do you need? I don’t have directions to the convention, but your costume is cute.” I look back at my phone. I don’t have time for this idiot.

“Vaelric.” He corrects me. “Are all humans so testy?”

“The Renasaince Fair is probably up in Blue Ridge.” I wave him off.

“I don’t know what this fair is Juniper.”

“Okay, Valerie. Cut the crap, I’m over it. I’ve got a lot to do today.”

“Cut the crap?” He looks horrified. “It’s Vaelric, not Gand-alf or Valerie. You mangle my name with such abandon, and yet you expect me to believe I’m the strange one. I am lost from my realm and trying to find my way home.”

Something about the way he says that makes my heart lurch. No I don’t have time for this, but the idea he is lost does give me pause. Ugh, fine.

“Rick, I’m the one who still thinks I’m dreaming. You’re just a walking fantasy character out of a book I read. And are you really trying to tell me that you are an elf and lost from home?” I move around the desk, not accepting defeat.

I regret my action as soon as I stand in front of Rick. Towering over me, he smells earthy and wild, with spice. And his eyes are the brightest green I’ve ever seen; maybe they are contacts.

————-

Vaelric (Vale-Rick)

The human female, Juniper, looks up at me through luscious lashes. Her blue eyes question me, but it’s her pulse I hear that gives her away. Regardless of how frustrating I am to her right now, she is attracted to me.

When she blushes, the yellow thread pulses slightly brighter. I know I have to find my way home soon, but this Juniper has to come with me. I can feel it in my bones. Our fates are tied.

“Many of my friends are Elves, but I am Fae, heir to Cirellen Hollows, son to Orendir Fernlock Elden and Seralyn Stonebrook Kalfaland.” He bows his head slightly again.

“You really aren’t giving up on this are you?” She sighs and folds her arms across her chest.

“Truth should never be given up on.” My head tilts at her. She is the most curious creature I’ve ever laid eyes on.

She is wearing blue pants of some strange material I’ve never seen. I almost reach out and touch it, but that would be rude. Her top is of a white flimsy material. A blue layer peeks through the fabric.

Curious, I test the waters and step towards her. She doesn’t move back, but her head tilts upwards to maintain eye contact.

"I don't understand why your pulse does that when I get close, but I find it amusing.” I can’t help but smile. Her pulse is rapid causing her thread to brighten. This pleases me.

“That's called anxiety. You’re triggering my fight or flight response." Her face is pink and her eyes move away from mine, but she doesn’t step backwards.

Lowering my voice, “And which are you choosing, Juniper — fight… or flight?"

———-

*Junie*

Shivering, I glare at him. Prick. He’s hot and making me lose my mind over here.

“Okay, how can I help you Rick?”

He frowns, his eyes bunching together. “You think I’m lying for some reason. That maybe my kind is a myth, but where I come from, that’s you. So come with me, and I’ll prove my race.” His smile twists my insides pleasantly.

“Not gonna happen.” I shake my head. “You’re a stranger.”

“Okay then.” He shrugs, that smug smile never leaving his face.

Wind picks up and pushes the papers off my desk. No windows are open. This is impossible.

Gasping, I hold my shirt in place and watch Vaelric move the papers on my desk into a swirl of a cloud in front of me. It moves and dances in the air. Laughter flows out of me as it lands just as neatly back on the table.

“You really did that?!” I give him a light shove.

He nods and smiles shyly for once.

“Let me see those ears! And what else can you do?” Excitement courses through me. There might actually be a Fae in front of me.

My hands reach up and grabs one of his ears. He leans into the touch, a low hum vibrating in his chest. “You’re like a dog.” I laugh.

“Whatever a dog is, I doubt they are feeling and thinking what I am right now.” He grins.

Clapping my hands together, I check my phone and make my decision. “If you help me with something, I’ll help you.” I smile at him.

“Deal.” He doesn’t wait a moment. “Whatever you need. I have to get back to find the Thalrix.”

“I need Fiona away from my father. Could you do that?”

“Whatever this Fiona is, consider it no longer a problem.” He moves his hands and smiles.

“Fiona is my dad’s wife. She needs to go — like, leave his life. Not… y’know: Fae-style.”

He tilts his head in confusion.

“No fires. No spells. No mysterious disappearances.”

“Ah,” his tone dims, but his eyes sparkle with mischief. He grabs my hand and pulls me even when I dig my heels in.

“Wait a minute.” He pauses but doesn’t let my hand go. It’s large and warm. “I can’t leave till five.”

“Then I will wait with you until you’re ready. Want to play a shael with me? Do you know Shathen?” Excitement is in his voice.

“Whoa there,” I chuckle. “I’ve got work to do first. And then I’d like to know your plan for Fiona.“

“Right, right.” He throws an arm over my shoulder and pulls me into him. “I have a feeling that humans will be my favorite adventure.”

————

*Vaelric*

I can almost tug on the yellow thread. It feels electric and heavy. What could one pull do?

And what is a human doing possessing threads? The world as I’ve known it is a lie. Juniper is a threadmage too.

And I’ve found my mate.