Niall felt the blade slice into Devon’s flesh and let out a yelp. The blade slid in easily through the older man’s palm and emerged from the other side

Niall shut his eyes and tried to release the knife. Without Devon’s iron grip around his own fist it would have dropped to the ground. Even as Niall tried to wriggle free Devon carefully pulled the knife out of his hand and released Niall.

As soon as he was free Niall clutched his own hand to his chest and scrambled backwards. “You’re mad. What are you doing?”

“Making a point. To get through tonight you’re going to have to open your mind. It’s OK. Look.”

It was only the calm in Devon’s voice that convinced Niall to slowly look down. Instead of a gory mangled mess, there was just a thin open cut on Devon’s hand. Even as he watched, the cut closed completely. After a few more seconds there was not even a scar left to show where the knife had once been.

Niall looked up in confusion. “What? I don’t understand. Was that some kind of sick magic trick?”

“No, it cut just fine. No blade of mine was going to be stopped even by my skin. On Earth, I would be bleeding out around now.”

“But it didn’t here. Is that some kind of genetic thing?”

Devon laughed and let go of his hand. “No, it’s a healing skill. Almost everyone has something like that here before they hit their teens. It means that people end up being a lot more careless and take more risks than the people that you and I grew up with. It takes a bit of getting used to.”

Niall picked himself up off the ground. “So it’s magic then? You’re telling me that there’s magic here.”

“No, it’s not magic. It’s a skill. Most people here have a few skills. Magic is much more unusual.”

“Why do I feel like you’re splitting hairs?”

Devon chuckled. “Fair. For now, let me just say three things. Firstly, fine, I take your point. I guess that was what you or I would call magic. Secondly, that’s not even the most impressive thing that you’re going to see tonight. And, thirdly, we really, really have to get going now or else we will be late.”

Devon stood up and started walking again. Niall stumbled after him still flexing his fingers. The memory of what Devon had done to himself had created a sympathetic echo of the pain in his own hand. He knew that the knife had not cut his hand, but his fingers tingled nonetheless. What had just happened? He did not understand it at all. Maybe that was a trick knife, or a trick hand, or something. Whatever it was, he didn’t like it.

He was still swinging between anger, fear and annoyance when he realised that Devon had stopped. They had emerged into a clearing in the woods. A large circle marked with white stones was in the centre of the space. A young woman and a number of animals were waiting in the circle as they arrived.

Niall stopped in his tracks. It was the woman who had fought the minotaur with Devon earlier. She gave Devon a nod, and Niall a smirk, but otherwise did not interact with them. Niall was acutely aware of two things. Firstly, that the last time he had seen her he was not wearing any clothes. Secondly, that she was really rather attractive. His cheeks glowed and he looked away from her.

Devon walked into the circle and squinted up at the sky. “Good, we haven’t missed it. Come on.” He beckoned to Niall as he spoke.

Niall walked cautiously towards him. He half-closed his eyes and flinched as he walked into the circle, but nothing changed as he walked in. As he stopped, he relaxed and looked up to try to work out what Devon was trying to spot. Two of the moons were overlapping and the third one was just coming into view. The light from them lit up the clearing almost as bright as day.

“What are we waiting for?”

“The stars, well the moons technically, to align.”

Niall waited for more, but Devon did not seem inclined to answer. Without trying to be too obvious, Niall looked across at the woman standing in the circle. She wore brown leather armour over sturdy brown trousers and a green shirt, with what looked to be an unstrung short bow at her side and a quiver of arrows at her belt. A long knife was sheathed on the other side. Over it all she wore a mottled brown and grey cloak that blurred her form against the woodland night. The multi-coloured feathers in her hair gleamed as if they had absorbed some of the light of the moons.

Her hand rested on the flank of a stag next to her and a badger dozed on her soft leather boot. Despite facing away from the two men, the stag turned and looked over at Niall with a raised eyebrow. Somehow feeling caught out, Niall blushed, again, and looked down at the ground.

Devon glanced over at him at the movement then looked to the woman. He laughed and called over to her. She turned with a smile before giving a short reply. Devon shook his head and chuckled.

“What did she say?” Niall asked. “You were with her earlier, weren’t you?”

Devon laughed louder, “Oh, I don’t think you want to know. But don’t worry, if you had offended Gwen you would very much know about it.”

Niall was about to respond when Devon spoke again. “Alright, it’s time.”

Niall looked up to see the small moon almost touching the other two moons. As it started to overlap, a shimmer passed over the circle giving a gentle distortion to everything as it moved. The moment it crossed Niall, it was as if a veil had been lifted from his eyes. Directly next to them stood a man, or maybe it was a woman, Niall could not say. One second there was nothing there, the next this person was beside them. They did not look as if they had moved, rather that they had somehow always been there.

They were dressed in a white robe that stopped at their ankles with their long straight black hair unbound. A simple belt made of golden links cinched it at the waist. Brown eyes looked at Niall quizzically. A low glow came from light brown skin of the being as if they were lit from inside. Not so much as to blind him, or even to make him uncomfortable to look at, but enough that they brightened the darkness. Niall looked at them more closely. Their ears and eyes were pointed.

“Is that an elf? I love your outfit.” Niall clapped a hand across his mouth at his rudeness as soon as he had spoken.

“Indeed I am not an elf, impetuous human. I am L’Kye, a Speaker of the L’Fae. And I am delighted that you approve of my robes. I would have been inconsolable if they did not meet your standards.”

The person’s lips did not move but Niall heard the voice in his head. He could feel his cheeks burning. “I’m sorry. That was rude, but you can understand me?”

“The babbling of your lips is of little import to me, but your meaning I take from your thoughts and respond in kind.”

“So, it looks like you have made contact.” Devon had a small smile on his face as he spoke. “I have explained the circumstances to them and they will take you to where you need to go.”

“Explained? When?”

“It is not so difficult to have more than one conversation at once with humans, particularly when one is as concise and clear as Master Smith Devon.”

Devon nodded at the compliment. “Right, I’m going to leave you here. I’ll likely be asleep when you get in, but we don’t bar our doors around here anyway. L’Kye will ensure that you get back safely.”

Niall looked at him. “You’re going to leave me?”

Devon clapped him on the shoulder. “I met with the L’Fae Sovereign once, thirty years ago when I went through this for myself. That was more than enough for one lifetime. Don’t worry, you’ll be fine.”

With quick steps, Devon walked to the edge of the ring and disappeared as soon as he reached the perimeter. Niall ran after him but Devon did not reappear even after he had passed out of the circle. He looked back to see L’Kye standing where he had left them. He slowly walked back.

“So, I guess that I have to go with you.”

“No, not at all. If you wish, I will return you to Master Smith Devon’s home immediately.”

It was as if Niall had blinked and then they were stood at the edge of the forest looking at Devon’s house. L’Kye continued talking without a pause.

“Of course, if you do not come with me then you will die in this world, your purpose unfulfilled.”

“Can’t you return me home, to my real home I mean? Please?” Niall disliked the whine in his voice but persevered. “I mean, if you can bring me here, can you not get me back?”

“With sorrow, young human, that is not how these matters are settled. Your journey home, if indeed you will it, is not for me to grant. That quest is your own.” They held up a hand. “And, to forestall your next question, I may not tell you how to fulfil that quest, indeed I may not even tell you how to start that quest. What I can tell you is that if you leave now without the help that the L‘Fae Sovereign can offer you, then you will not even be able to begin that journey. You will end where you begin: here. Beholden to the charity of others until you pass. But the choice is yours.”

Niall stood in silence for a moment. “Fine. I don’t really have a choice do I? I guess I’ll come with you if I have to.”

The glow around L’Kye intensified and Niall fell to his knees as he felt waves of anger radiate towards him.

“You always have a choice.” The voice thundered in Niall’s head. “If only the choice to be grateful towards those that offer aid to you in your time of need. Accept this honour with good grace or refuse it as you will, but the option to accept with churlishness is forbidden you. Now choose and choose quickly. My patience with you is limited.”

Niall took a deep breath and forced himself to his feet. The anger from L’Kye still pulsed towards him as if it were a physical pressure. He looked L’Kye in the eyes, “I’m sorry. You’re right, I was being rude. This is all really bizarre, but that’s no excuse. If you, and your sovereign, are still willing to help me, I would be very grateful.”

The pressure on Niall lifted. L’Kye’s face was still stern but there was a glint in their eye. “So, it appears that you are not a cause that is entirely lost. You can be bowed but are not broken. Good. Then come.”

There was another blink and Niall found himself in an empty corridor. Its wooden walls seemed to have been seamlessly carved out of a single living tree. No, carved was not the right word. It was as if the walls had been somehow grown out of a single piece of wood.

In front of him was a large door. It was one of a number scattered at irregular intervals along the corridor. Much like the corridor, the opening also looked as if had organically emerged from the wood. The intricate carvings that covered both the door and the arched frame looked as if they had always been there, simply waiting to be found. L’Kye opened the door and gestured to Niall, “After you, young human.”

Niall walked through the door and found himself in a large study, the walls lined with shelves that contained sculptures and crafted artworks. Notably missing, if this were a study, were any books. In front of the fire that burned in the hearth, a pair of leather armchairs sat with a squat stone table between them. A large desk made of an almost black wood was in front of the windows that looked out over tree tops. Niall took all of this in at a glance before his attention was captured by the person that sat behind the desk.

In an elegant looping script that Niall did not recognise, they wrote on a parchment scroll. They held up a finger to the two of them without looking up from what they were doing. Like L’Kye they were dressed in a white robe, but their black curly hair was streaked with white and there were the beginnings of wrinkles around their eyes. They finished what they were writing and threw the scroll into the air, where it disappeared. Then they stood.

“Welcome. So you are Niall? I am L’Mor, the Sovereign of the L’Fae”

The voice in Niall’s head was rich, sounding on the verge of laughter.

Niall made a sketchy bow. “I am very pleased to meet you, your Highness. Your Majesty? I’m sorry I don’t know what to call you. Thank you for agreeing to see me.”

The sense of laughter in the voice intensified. “L’Mor will do just fine. And, of course I will see you. My pledge was given and my pledge shall be fulfilled.”

They looked at Niall intently and Niall found himself unable to look away from the Sovereign’s eyes. In the light of that gaze he felt stripped bare: every secret, every thought, every whisper, even those that he had forgotten, exposed to L’Mor. It could have been a second or a year later when Niall found himself able to look away. He expected to feel violated but instead felt at somehow honoured that the L’Fae Sovereign had taken the time to notice him.

“How interesting.” L’Mor said. “Maybe you will be the one. Almost certainly not, but the day will come when one of his line achieves something and, for that, I wait in hope. Let us go.”

There was another blink and the three of them appeared on a small island in the middle of what appeared to be marshland. Wherever it was, it was daytime rather than night. Sunlight fought, and lost, the battle against the grey clouds overhead.

About to ask, yet again, where he was, Niall bit his tongue. Even if he received an answer, it would mean nothing to him. Instead, he looked around. The boggy marsh stretched as far as he could see, the wet scrubby plants occasionally interrupted by a sickly tree.

“Welcome to Lonevar,” said L’Mor. It appeared that they were content to share where they were, not that Lonevar meant anything to Niall. “This is where, with just a little pain, you will truly be born.”