Marva’s world rested in perpetual darkness, but she did not mind. It was all she’d ever known. Like all of her kind, she walked despite the things on her back.

“But what are they, Svata? Shouldn’t we fly?”

“Fly to what? Fly to where!”

Svata, like everyone else, had nearly black skin. Instead of brown eyes like Marva, her eyes were pale blue. It was the strangest anomaly.

They came to another dirt tunnel and looked up and around.

How long had they been down here?

And they were underground, that much Marva knew. It’d been so long but she remembered a world of brightness. She remembered a world of green. And she remembered a world of pain.

A bug, the size of their heads buzzed past, and Marva watched it, envious. When had they become so big? They were small once, weren’t they?

“Like that,” Marva insisted. “We can fly like that?”

“Don’t be daft,” Svata scoffed. “It’s forbidden to use our wings. They’ll bring only sadness.”

These were words Marva knew well—everyone knew them. Yet, she couldn’t help but pull Svata aside and stand before her.

“But I feel happy when I do it.” Marva ignored the gasp and demonstrated. When her friend’s hands few to her mouth in disgust, Marva stopped floating. Today, too, the black on black tattoos on her arms took on a golden hue. It’d take hours before they faded.

“You’ll be killed,” Svata whispered.

The pain in her voice was one Marva knew well. But instead of sharing in that frown, Marva looked back at her wings glowing halfhearted.

They used them for a light source. That was all they ever used these wings for now. But whenever they fluttered, a powerful sensation of joy flooded Marva’s body, and her mind.

All that and more, and she was determined to share it. That was why she took hold of Svata’s hands and begged, “Try it with me. No one will know. Please.”

Svata broke their gaze and pulled her hands back.

The moment they slipped from Marva’s grip, she had regret.

“You’re strange,” Svata said, and turned to walk away. “Don’t come near me again.”

The dull glow of her wings faded in time, leaving tears in Marva’s eyes.

Woe was nothing new to a Jvalan. Some days she felt that was all they were made for, sadness and hurt. But this rejection, this rejection hurt deeper than any punishment from the magus.

So she turned away and allowed the first tear to fall. As a consequence of using her wings, now each tear glowed blue and left an awful coloring on the dirt below. In time, it would fade, but the consequences of this mistake wouldn’t.

“Well now,” a voice said, “what a very beautiful way to cry.”

The deep voice had her spinning around in all directions. There was nothing, no one.

“You cannot see me, can you?”

A gentle breeze brushed her cheek.

“Even now?”

When something held her face, she froze. “What—what are you?”

“Look again, darling. Can’t you see me?”

She couldn’t.

“Flutter those wings again and you will see me as I see you. Magic cannot thrive if it is unused.”

Fear rippled through Marva but something else…excitement.

“Come on, go on and try—”

Perhaps this was a trick. Perhaps Svata’d told someone and the others had come to test her.

“It’s forbidden,” she said with a gasp.

“Forbidden?” The voice closed in, a hot breath against her lips as the hold on her face tightened. “You are a fairy, darling, nothing is forbidden to us but love.”

One hand must have held her jaw because another brushed along her brow then down her neck, past her bare bosom and rested at her smooth stomach.

“You have such beautiful markings. Is this what has become of the great night Fae? At one time, you were all the most coveted of lovers.”

Something pressed against her mouth, but she could not perceive it. It came again and she held her breath.

A kiss.

“What…what are you? Who are you?”

“Flutter those wings so that you can see me, night Fae,” he said, fingers running through her thick black hair. “And I will answer your every question. I’ll tell you how I came here, how to leave, and more importantly, what you all are.”

The next kiss last longer and she tried to push her lips out as well, to kiss back.

He brushed past her hair and stroked one of her four wings. It flinched. The next touch had the second one twitching, then the third. And then they came to life, fluttering like never before.

“There we go,” he whispered. “Go on and let go. Let them take you up, even if it’s not far. I’ll carry you the rest of the way. I promise.”

The kiss came back, deeper and with such power that she no longer cared to control the bright light emitting from the wings. Instead, she wanted nothing more than to allow it to fill every bit of the tunnel, and so she let it.

Marva bounced against the tunnel roof for some time before the being came into view.

He was amazing because…his body was entirely blue.

She must have stared at him open mouthed for an eternity before he finally extended his hand to her and helped her touch down on the ground again.

Never in her life could she remember seeing someone like this, and yet, there was something familiar about him.

“What are you?” she asked again.

His smile complimented his handsome face. His body wasn’t broad, much like the other males of her kind, but he carried himself differently. For one, he did not take his hands off her. When she stepped back, he stepped close. When she stepped close, he held her face. When she mimicked him and caressed his cheek, he’d seek out a kiss.

This was so unlike the others.

Jvalan didn’t touch. Almost never. The closest she’d ever come was holding hands with Svata and that only started after Marva tried to use her wings in secret.

Despite the strangeness of his closeness, it felt…safe.

“You’re not used to this, are you?” he said. “Because you tremble.”

Fearing the scorn of yet another, she did something against her character—she lied, “No. I do this all the time. You do not have to stop.”

But something else happened. Her beautiful glowing tattoos went black.

He clicked his teeth. “It happens when you lie. Do you know this?”

She almost lied again but thought better of it. “None of us ever have glowing bodies to know it.” He was further away so she stepped closer to him, taking on the posture he once had. “Can you show me? Can you show me what else I am capable of? There’s so much I don’t know. I feel like I should know more.”

“Yes. You should.” His eyes scanned her. Whatever his findings, he was satisfied enough to give her yet another kiss. “A fairy is not a generous creature. But we enjoy trade. I will give you everything you want now….” He planted a kiss on her chin then down her neck, simultaneously brining his hand up to cup her right breast. “And you collect my favors and pay me later on.”

Her body burned. Her mind ignited then dulled and exploded yet again.

“What is happening?”

“We are connecting,” he admitted. “We fairies are not generous, but we are gregarious. Being together, especially in twos, activates our powers. But you sought solace from your weak friend. How did it make you feel?”

Everything in Marva conjured up a lie but she was fearful of losing these sensations enough to confess, “Full.”

“And?”

“And…and…hot—powerful.”

Two strong hands wrapped around her waist and she let out a yelp.

“This is lovely. What are you doing?”

“I’ve told you, when you don’t use magic, everything dulls, even our sensations. My power is mixing with your power. And I’m willing to allow it, but I want an agreement to our bargain.”

“What bargain?” Marva gasped, clinging to him. His body was warm and strong. “What bargain do you seek?”

“I give you knowledge of what it means to be a fairy, and you give me knowledge that I seek.”

Now when he stroked her wings, she pulled him closer. These sensations were strange…and familiar.

“Why do I feel like…like a ghost? Like something’s lost?”

“Do we have a deal, darling? Because I have some place to be, and I’d gladly give this offer to your friend Svata or any other night Fae who can give me what I want.”

The kisses along her throat were back and she closed her eyes. She did not know this being. She knew nothing of him. And yet, he knew every inch of her.

She opened her eyes long enough to find the world brighter. When she held out her hands, the reflection illuminating against it told her something shocking and she hid her face.

“My eyes. Are…are they glowing?”

“You are a night Fae. You thrive in the dark, but your power is illumination.”

“Illumination?” She took hold of his hands. “How do I stop this? I cannot go back home like this. I’ll be killed.”

Eyes still closed, she waited, intent on pleading again if necessary.

“Are we in agreement, darling?”

But how could she agree to something that she did not understand? Rather than speak, she waited. The burning of her skin faded in time. Then the warmth of her wings drifted away, too. When she finally opened her eyes, the blue fairy was gone, and a numbness came over her.

“Hello?”

She turned around, again and again, pleading.

“Hello?”

For weeks after that, Marva couldn’t smile. She also couldn’t fly either. She felt cold, far colder than any other time in her life underground.

And on the day she finally felt normal again, numb again, a hand rested below her wings and she knew, the blue fairy was back.

She couldn’t see him, and admittedly, no one else could either. The comings and goings of the busy tunnel meant nothing to her as she caught hold of the hand and dragged the invisible man with her all the way to the secluded tunnel where they’d first met.

“I can’t see you. Please show me how to see you. Please.”

That warm breath came to her again and she closed her eyes. A hand guided hers upward and she held his chest. Her eyes were useless, so she closed them and continued in the timid exploration of his body the way he explored hers.

Finally, a voice whispered by her ear, “Are we in agreement, darling?”

With a shiver, she gritted her teeth. She could go back, she knew. After a time, she could go back to feeling nothing. And with some discipline, she would simply never use her wings again and never glow by mistake.

She’d thought their laws foolish before. But Svata was right. It was best to never fly. It was best to never crave these feelings.

And with time, that was all Marva needed, she wouldn’t feel them either.

She could go back to the life of serving the magus, culling the grubs, running off the rabbits, quelling all fights over their daily routine. Day in day out, she could walk from here to there, sit down in quiet meditation, train for something to do, and fall asleep only to start it all again the next day. And she could keep on like that forever.

But she couldn’t. She didn’t want to. She never wanted to go back to that.

“Yes,” she gasped, instantly regretting those words but equally grateful to feel that emotion. “Yes. Anything. I’ll give you anything. Just let me understand what I am—what this all is.”

“It’s simple,” he said, “you are trapped in this dimension by the Fairy King and only he can summon you out. And he will when you do as I say.”

“The Fairy King?” the name sent all her senses on high alert. “Are you the Fairy King?”

“I am Matax. And I want the baby of your magus. Bring him to me.”

“What? No. I can’t do that. You don’t understand. I’ll be punished. I’ll be killed. What you’ve requested is impossible—”

“Oh. I understand clearly,” Matax said with a smile. And then the grin vanished and he reminded her, “You and your kind have been down here so long you no longer know what it is to be Fae. Well, I know, and I’ll teach you the first rule— never cross a fairy.”

That was then, but now, a year later, Marva swung in a bird cage from Prince Sorem’s belt. She stared out at the lagoon at first, watching Vadde sunbathe but that wasn’t her focus or concern. Instead, she found herself drawn to a face she’d never forget.

Now golden instead of blue, Matax, hand in hand with another fairy who he held with affection, flew around happily without a care in the world, utterly unaware of all the ways Marva planned to kill him.

‎