Sopher could only blink about two leagues at most – longer than most Molders, but not far enough for a sure getaway. He realized he would need to stop somewhere for the night, lest he overdo it and leave himself barren of any magic and vulnerable to attack. Though he trusted Ramir’s fidelity to him, he knew the paths fate could choose from were plenty and it only took a slight misdirection for events to shift away from his favor.

When they were six leagues away from the village, Sopher paused and decided this was the place for them to find shelter. He found himself in the middle of an overgrown path, seemingly abandoned. Close examination revealed slight indentations, indicating footprints left not too long ago. Sopher scanned the horizon for any hint of human habitation, but the dense foliage of the Huroko trees surrounding them made it difficult to spy even the slightest wisps of smoke from a stray campfire. Huroko trees were legendary in Elyria, for the Fae supposedly built their communities inside them.

Sopher weighed his options. There was much risk in going deeper into the Huroko trees, as not many people found their way back once lost. For the few that did, they were forever in a daze, a thin thread tethering them to reality. However, the thought of blinking physically hurt – whether it was due to his shared powers in premonition or his body feeling the weight of what he must do, he couldn’t differentiate. He just knew to blink forward felt fatal.

The baby cooed and shifted in his arms, reminding him of the weight of his responsibility. Resolute, Sopher held the baby tight and followed the path to the trees. In an instant, the scenery changed – bright sunlight wrapped around them both, while a soft wind lightly caressed the tips of his hair. He looked behind him to find the road gone, the path vanished. When he faced forward, a cottage stood before him, barring him from taking any more steps. Though the house was small in stature, he knew to go around it would be impossible; to go backwards, futile. All roads led to this cottage and to whomever – or whatever – waited inside.

A plan formed in Sopher’s mind. He would scout the area, mimicking movements all around the house to identify all entry and exit points. He still may have the element of surprise, and this brand of optimism has served him well in the past. Why change tactics now?

He pinched his thumb and forefinger, directing the energy towards the window, envisioning the window opening up…but the window stayed shut. Thinking his exhaustion got the best of him, Sopher tried again – this time putting all of what little magic he had left, to task. Still, the window remained unmoved, not even a shudder or creak.

Although unlikely, he concluded the window may be much stronger than he anticipated and a smaller challenge may be more apropos. He scanned the cottage and surprisingly found a key to the front door stuck inside the keyhole. Certain it’s a trap, Sopher tried to mimic twisting the key from a distance. Breathing deeply and clearing his mind, he centered all his power towards turning the key clockwise, putting forth so much energy that he could feel the tips of his fingers shaking. After a few minutes, he opened his eyes to find that the key remained still – and his efforts, in vain.

“What a curious predicament we are in,” Sopher whispered to his charge. “It seems I have been rendered powerless. We are facing a formidable opponent, without the option of retreat.”

The baby stared at him, wide-eyed, as if he understood every word. Although illogical, somehow the presence of this baby gave Sopher a sense of comfort. For so many years, he had to handle problem after problem on his own; it dawned on him that as of today, he will now have a companion with which he could share the world’s burdens with – a companion that if premonitions prove correct, will be more powerful than any other mage before him. He must make sure he keeps him alive until then; a tall order even under normal circumstances, as Sopher had never taken on a charge so young before.

“Not to worry little one. I will find a way to get us out of this. I always do.”

The baby cooed in response. In that moment, whatever wall Sopher put in place to guard his heart fell to pieces, and he knew he would do whatever it took to keep him safe.

“Well, it would seem like the only way out is through.” Sopher huffed, and started walking towards the door. Every instinct warned against approaching the house, and Sopher was experiencing an emotion he so rarely let himself – fear. If he only had himself to worry about, risk was never an issue, but with the child?

Sopher walked up to the door, heaved a sigh, and in one swift motion – touched the key to turn it, twisted, then turned his back to shield the child from whatever surprise awaited them on the other side. Yes, his back was vulnerable, but it would buy him a few minutes to assess and ensure the child’s safety.

…But no attack came. Sopher turned around to find the door unlocked, but not yet opened. Tired of the games, he put his hand to the door, twisted the handle, and pushed it open. As soon as he walked in through the threshold, he felt a warmth overwhelm him – as though warm milk was poured on top of his head, enveloping his senses, until it reached his toes. Inside the house was a crackling fireplace – similar to what he saw in his childhood home, during his favorite winter season; an odd choice given the summer sun blazing outside. Everything about the house invited him to stay, which is how he knew he needed to leave.

Sopher started to back up, and just as he was about to cross the door frame, his head felt lightheaded and he knew, he was going to fall. He turned around to try and rush out the door, but the door slammed shut before he could reach it, so he clutched the baby close to his chest, and with what little strength he had left, wrapped him tightly in front as his back hit the cold stone floor.

“Take me and not the baby,” were the last words Sopher uttered, as his eyes faded to black.

---

Creaking. That was the first sound Sopher heard when he came to. His body overwhelmed him with the desire to sleep, but as had just rested – he finally had enough strength to push past whatever enchantment was laid upon him, and he quickly sat upright with a loud shout.

“Hush now! The babe is falling fast asleep!” The admonition came from the corner of the room, and when Sopher opened his eyes to scan the space, he found himself lying on a gargantuan white mattress — while in the corner, on a rocking chair, sat the most beautiful woman he had ever seen; long black hair crested in waves to her torso, skin sun-kissed and sweet, and yet her eyes were the most unsettling color of silver. Clinging to her was the baby, suckling and serene. She was a vision, dressed in a sheer white gown fit enough for the King’s ball, and yet she wore it as though it was an everyday chemise.

“Madame, apologies for my rudeness, but if that baby is not my arms by the count of five, I’m afraid I cannot be held responsible for your safety.” Sopher spoke in his most calm yet menacing voice – a technique he had perfected when he led interrogations for the Kingdom. “That baby is my charge, and I will not allow any harm to come to him.”

Up until that point, the woman only had eyes for the child – but hearing Sopher’s threat, she lifted her eyes to Sopher, and laughed. Somehow, her laugh sounded like bells and bluebirds combined, and against Sopher’s will, he found himself completely enthralled by her.

“Harm?” She whispered, “do you not see how happy he is to finally be fed? Xander will need his strength.”

“Xander? You named him?” Sopher was aghast. Naming was a very personal and powerful process in Elyria, as part of the ritual for naming the child was a willingness to imprint one’s power on the babe. It was not always a guarantee that power would transfer, nor how much power would move, but it was always a possibility and with Sopher’s combined powers – the child stood to gain much from Sopher naming him. “Do you know what you’ve done? He was set to inherit from me – a tertiary molder, as well as part of a Seer! You have lost him his birthright!”

“I highly doubt that,” said the woman, “for I have seen his future and I am merely playing my part in it.”

“Are you a third-level Seer? A hidden prophet? I have not heard of a new one being born in the last decade, but magic has been so forced underground that I can understand how I might miss a Seer or two.” The Seers were the first magical folk Adrach, who now calls himself King, prosecuted. After all, Adrach could not control a monopoly on the future, as long as Seers were present. A morbid comfort that Seers were already quite rare, so the overall casualties were low compared to the massacre of those blessed with Touch.

“I am neither, and I am all. I am not bound to any limits like you humans tend to be.” There was a mix of both pity and affection in her voice. “But this little one may just be closer to us, and so to name him is my way of making sure he knows he is always welcome on our lands.”

“I had a feeling you were one of the Fae, though I hoped I was wrong.” Sopher could feel dread overcome him, as he realized not only were they ensnared on Fae lands – she has now fed him her milk. Every lore he has heard about the Fae warned against drinking their food, because their food drove humans mad. He can only imagine the effect actually drinking a Fae’s milk would have on a human child. “Please, Xander is destined to save Elyria. We cannot be trapped here. We must leave.”

“I know, Sopher. I know.” She murmured, “And I hope you are right. You and I together can give him the best chance at saving both our kingdoms.”

“Our kingdoms? Do you also serve as a soldier in your kingdom?”

“Yes and no,” she answered, giving him a sly smile. “I serve my kingdom yes, but not as a soldier. My name is Amarantha and I serve as the Queen.”

Sopher’s eyes widened in surprise. The queen of the Fae is supposedly just as powerful, if not more so, than the King of Elyria. He jumped out of the bed and bent one knee to the floor, out of deference.

“My deepest apologies, Queen Amarantha. I meant no disrespect.”

“Rise, High Commander. We must dispense with these formalities, for fate has brought us together.” Slowly, gracefully, she stood up and while still feeding the now sleeping babe – touched his shoulder and gently lifted him up. “You and I are now intertwined, unlikely allies in this fight against the unnatural.”

“You speak of Adrach who cheated his way into being the Successor, and therefore, King of Elyria.” At this, Sopher spit on the ground. “He is unworthy of the crown he wears.”

“I am less concerned with the crown he wears, and more with what he is doing to Elyria’s magic. The stifling of magic has bled its way into my kingdom, and at this time, the thread most favorable to my people’s safety seems to be my meeting Xander today.” She ran a finger down his cheek, as she continued to gently sway him while he slept.

“So he is the child in the prophecy?”

“We have yet to see. Just because he has the potential for power does not mean he will wield it in the way we hope he would. His future is still up to him, and you of course – specifically, how you choose to raise him. Your ‘King Adrach’ is a testament to that.”

“I will raise him the same way I was raised, and the same way I have raised many soldiers after me – with strength, focus, discipline. He will be the best soldier Elyria has ever seen.”

“I was afraid you would say that,” said the Queen. She turned around and with a flick of her hand, magicked a crib in the corner, where she now laid a sleeping Xander.

Confused, Sopher asked, “Is there something wrong with raising him as I was raised?”

Without the baby between them, Sopher could finally see the Queen on display – and she was a sight to behold. She wore elegance like a second skin. She walked over to him, grabbed his hand, and led him to the bed where she sat down and pulled him to sit next to her. She then looked deep into his eyes, and though he was overwhelmed by the intensity of her stare, he could not look away.

“Sopher, do you remember your grandmother?” She asked. Sopher nodded, as she continued. “I can see in your past how she often disobeyed your father’s orders and showered you with hugs when he was not looking. I can see that despite your father’s harsh attempts at teaching you to be cold, she planted a seed of love in you and taught you the importance of warmth for others. I can see how she taught you to be skeptical of authority, to question and not to follow, to never allow yourself to believe that you knew everything and to constantly seek the counsel of others – especially those whose opinions differed from your own.”

“Yes, I remember. When father would starve me to break my will, she always found a way to sneak food into the shack so I would never grovel – even after father beat me for ten days straight,” Sopher’s eyes began to water. “I loved her. The fireplace you built here reminds me of her, as that is where we spent most of our nights together – with her telling me stories of the brave men and women who fought in the War of Equality.”

“Exactly. Your father tried to break you, but your grandmother kept you whole. Xander needs you to keep him whole, so when the world tries to break him later – he will have that to hold on to.” Amarantha could see Sopher understand; relieved, she embraced him.

“So where do we go from here? Do we just stay here, in this cottage, until Xander is ready?” Sopher had a feeling that was where this was going — why she trapped them here, why she gave Xander her milk. To his surprise, Amarantha broke the embrace and laughed.

“Must everything feel like a calculated move to you?” She jested, as she tucked strands of her hair behind her ear. “The cottage was here because you were tired and needed to rest — it was not meant to entrap. The fire is there because I thought it would help soothe you — not lead to your retreat. I gave Xander my milk because he is a baby, and frankly not only because he needs the sustenance — my milk is also bound to my powers, and I want to gift him all that I can, to help him face the challenges he will soon encounter. And lastly, as I said before, I named Xander so he knows he always has a home in the Huroko trees — not to imprison him within them.”

“My apologies Amarantha…kindness is not a currency I’ve encountered in quite some time.” Sopher murmured, eyes downcast.

“I understand,” responded Amarantha. “Me neither. But hopefully, Xander will change that for both of us. That said, your question is apt — I am also here to help you find a place to stay. There is an island, far enough from the heart of Elyria that the King will take some time to find you. This will give Xander a chance to grow, until the time of tribulation starts. I will take you there myself tomorrow; tonight, we all must rest.”

And with those words, Sopher felt lightheaded once more. Before he could protest, he found himself heavy-lidded, stumbling back onto the bed. The rapid onset of exhaustion made him wonder if Amarantha also had the power of Touch — and if so, to what extent has she been controlling his emotions? These were his last thoughts, as his mind drifted away to sleep.