The next two days went by quickly, bringing no solution but straining the relationships around Cora even more.

She was now sitting on the ground in the woods, away from everything and everyone. She wasn't far away from the Fair enough to be in danger, but she'd still managed to put a considerable distance between them.

She closed her eyes, listening to the low chirps of birds and shouts coming from afar, trying her best to block out any sound that wasn't peaceful. She needed some quietude after the loud reality that she was now a part of.

"Cora, hey!"

Cora's eyes snapped open, her heart beating wildly in her chest, not having expected anyone to be there. She'd walked away into the woods not to encounter anyone else—she didn't expect to be found so quickly.

Oden was walking towards her, and she relaxed. She'd always enjoyed talking to him—he wasn't one of the people she was running away from.

"Hello," she greeted him back. "What are you doing out here?"

He shrugged. "I was trying to play with my ball," he said, showing her the small wooden sphere resting on his palm. "Harry gave it to me, he said I have to make it a flower."

"Can you do that?" Cora asked, mild curiousness in her voice. Maybe, she felt a little jealous.

He sighed. "I'm not sure. It's harder than it looks, it never looks right. That's why he insists I keep trying."

Cora smiled. She found impressive the way Harry acted with the children, always teaching them to use their magic better. At the same time, though, it also upset her. It upset her, because while he spent so long with them, he couldn't even be bothered to look at her after what he'd done. And also because they were way better at magic than she could ever be. That was how it was supposed to look like, beautiful and effortless. She wasn't like them. Her magic, if it indeed was there, was buried so deep inside her that it'd carved a home for itself inside her soul, and now it was too comfortable to ever want to set itself free.

"It is," Oden admitted. "Thanks to him I learnt to play with air. They say it's my ability, you know. I'm not that sure, but I like air. It's fun, it makes me happy."

"It's an amazing ability to have," Cora gave in, ignoring the ache in her heart as she spoke. She too was supposed to have one, but she didn't know what it was. If she had one at all. Thalia had said she did, but she didn't truly believe her.

"And I can make leaves spin higher and higher. Harry says that if I manage to break a branch he'll teach me to carve wood," he continued, holding up the wooden ball with happiness in his eyes. "I'd like that, but so far I could only make leaves spin. I almost broke a branch some days ago, but I didn't in the end."

"I'm sure you'll be able to break it, you just have to believe in yourself. I know you can do it."

Oden smiled at her. "You really think so?"

Cora nodded. "I know so."

"Thank you!" he said cheerfully, and then turned to look at the light of the fires she could see on their right. The Fair was so close, but so far away. "I have to go back and sell tickets now," he stated, giving her the wooden sphere. "You can make this look like a flower."

She smiled at him, but the sign of happiness was wiped away from her face in the instant he left her alone again.

She grazed the surface of the ball and tried to etch a line in it with her nail, wondering what it'd be like to actually use magic to make something beautiful out of it. After a moment of hesitation, she stared at it and tried to make it to do something, anything that would show she was indeed magical—but nothing happened.

Cora sighed, staring at it with defeat in her heart.

Oden had made it sound so easy, like all she needed to do to make it change shape was to concentrate a little bit and maybe mutter some words, if she really couldn't do it with the simple force of her mind.

But it wasn't easy. Whatever fire had burnt inside her the day she shattered the hairpin was nowhere to be found now. She was back to being the same old Cora, the useless little girl that couldn't even defend herself when it was a matter of life or death. A fay too human and a human too fay, held between two worlds without belonging to any. Powerless Cora.

She missed the hostel. At least there were no expectations for her there—all she needed to do was cleaning around and helping with cooking and managing, and maybe talking to the residents from time to time. At the Fair, though, she was watched and observed. Over the course of two days, the news of what she'd done had somehow flied from mouth to mouth, and now she couldn't go anywhere without people staring at her curiously. She wondered why. After all, there was nothing unique about her. Shattering the golden pin had been a huge deal for her, but it wasn't anything most fays couldn't do.

And yet they stared at her, they observed her as if they expected her to make a wagon explode at any second. Cora was glad she was weak, because she was sure that if she hadn't been, the tension inside her would've been enough to make it happen.

But even though she couldn't escape the gazes of her supposed new family, Harry was nowhere to be found. He seemed to be the only one not taking part in that little circus. He went to sleep after she did and woke up before her, and throughout the next few days she could only catch a glimpse of him while walking between the tents and stalls before he disappeared again.

She tried to tell herself he was simply busy with building up the Fair and getting it ready for showtime, but she wasn't so sure anymore.

He was avoiding her, she knew that. It was ridiculous for her to realise she'd somehow scared Harry away. Harry, the same person that had killed more than ten people in seconds. The one that had come to save her bringing no weapon but himself. He was now steering clear of her every chance he got, and she didn't know why. It hadn't been the first time they'd kissed, and he'd initiated it. He had no reason to act like that, and it angered her deep inside.

She felt used, discarded on the side like a toy he no longer enjoyed playing with. She'd always known he didn't care for her as a person and that her only worth to him was what he thought she could do for him, but it still hurt, because she'd let herself believe, for a moment there, that he'd kissed her because he'd truly wanted to.

Maybe he found it unlikeable that she was so useless. Maybe he'd been thrilled by her sudden show of power then, and now that she couldn't do it anymore, he had no interest in her. Maybe he was wondering how to let her go nicely.

He didn't like her like she liked him, and it didn't surprise her. He was as bright as a star and just as powerful; there was nothing someone as small and insignificant as her could show him that would amaze him or interest him in any way. His reality was a dream, and she stuck out like a sore thumb compared to it. She didn't even want to imagine the greatness someone would have to possess to catch his attention in that way.

Cora threw the ball away from her, watching it disappear into the shadows.

People were cheering and talking in the distance. It was the first night of the Fair in Caloir, and everyone seemed more than eager to celebrate. She'd been one of them, once. A few weeks before, she'd braided her blonde hair and worn a beautiful pink dress to go to the black tent with Naomi. Now she was sitting in the obscurity of the woods away from home, preferring their silence to some empty mock-celebration of a unity she now knew didn't exist, and it was too cold for pretty pink dresses made of chiffon.

Cora brought her knees to her chest, sighing as she rested her arms on her legs. She would've never thought getting to wear trousers would be so dismal. She almost missed the grey dresses she wore at the hostel, now, even though the expensive and comfortable fabric of the clothes Harry had got just for her hugged her body in all the right places and protected her from the cold. Harry, the only man that could ignore her for three days straight and still provide her with clothes.

The water in the river in front of her whirled and bubbled, singing its own song that inevitably got mixed with the laughs coming from somewhere behind her, far away.

"Not in the mood for celebrations?"

She jolted, sending Harry a glare in the second he stepped out of the shadows. "Shouldn't you be somewhere else?" she asked bitterly, the sting of his behaviour still too fresh, mixing with the annoyance his stealthy ways gave her. Silent like a fox and agile like a cat, he always was. The epitome of a good predator—or Fair owner, depending on the point of view.

He chuckled. "I should, but I must admit the shows of the Fair start feeling relatively inconsequential after a while."

"The King of the Fair is tired of the Fair? I've never heard that before."

"What a peculiar title you've chosen for me," he commented, stepping closer to her. "Do I look like royalty to you?"

"At times," admitted Cora, glancing at him. He was playing with something, twirling it between his long fingers, and she realised with a start that it was the very same sphere she'd discarded.

"I suppose I should be honoured." He threw the ball up into the sky, watching it whirl between the branches of the trees, and caught it with ease when it fell down again. "Unfortunately, flattery won't go a long way with me tonight."

"Why's that?" She was listening to him, but just barely.

"It may come as a surprise to you, but I can be rather task-oriented at times."

"What's your task?"

He pitched the ball into the branches above their heads again. "Set it on fire, Cora."

A sudden ache flashed through her chest. He was only there to see if she could do any more magic, magic she didn't know how to bring out of her. Magic that probably wasn't even there at all. That was what he truly cared about, and she couldn't even give it to him.

"No."

He got a hold of it again and sent her an attentive glance, a look she couldn't figure out the meaning of in his dark green eyes. "Won't you at least try?"

Cora could see the disappointment on his face, and hated herself for it. Why was she so powerless? With a chill, she realised that, if he'd suddenly decided to end her life right then and there, she wouldn't have been able to do anything to stop him. That was how useless she was, she couldn't even protect herself.

And she also hated him for it, because he didn't know what it meant. He didn't know what it was like to have no control over his own destiny. It'd never been a problem to him. He'd always known what he was able to do and even now, with his magic shattered, he still had the power to win a fight if he had to.

He could never understand.

"Why don't you focus on fixing your own magic instead of bothering me over mine?" She snapped at him.

He flinched and let go of the ball as if it had burnt him. Cora watched it as it rolled past her and fell into the river.

"So? We both know you wouldn't be here with me right now if you weren't broken," she said standing up, her wounded soul calling for revenge. She knew he hadn't done anything to her, but still she couldn't stop herself from taking it from the stream before it could be washed away and turning towards Harry while holding it up. "Come on, Harry. Set it on fire."

She knew she was being cruel, she could see it in the hurt in his eyes, but she couldn't bring herself to care in that moment. She would've cried about it later, but now all she wanted was for him to feel the same pain and uselessness he made her feel over the past few days.

"I can't set it on fire, it's wet," he noted quietly.

Cora raised her eyebrows. "You're really going to let that stop you?" she chided him. "You're here trying to get me to use magic while you can't even control yours, don't you think you're being hypocritical?"

Harry clenched his teeth, glowering at her. He was a fire, a burning blaze ready to take everything and everyone down and she was standing right in his path, but she couldn't bring herself to care. Maybe he'd set the entire forest alight and they'd burn in it. Maybe he'd call the water flowing behind her to drown her—if he could.

But he didn't.

"This is a waste of time," he only said bitterly.

"Won't you at least try?" Cora hissed, spitting back at him the same words he'd told her.

There was a sharp inhale on his part, and in a matter of seconds the ball in her hand grew burning hot, sending a jolt of pain through her arm.

She dropped it. Her fingers were achy and red.

He widened his eyes in shock, and before she could even think about saying something, he turned around and disappeared between the trees.

The anger that was flowing through her in boiling waves dissipated into nothing, leaving her with the barren aftermath of her outburst.

She let out an exasperated shout and kicked the ball away. The birds in the branches above her head caught flight squawking. She curled up into a ball against the trunk of a tree and pulled the cloak closer to her body, already feeling guilty for the way she'd treated Harry.

"What a petty argument that was."

Cora gaze snapped up, sighing when she noticed the crow sitting on a branch above her. "Were you listening?"

The crow spread its wings. "Fighting is for mortals."

"We are mortals."

"You are, but you're also well above it."

She narrowed her eyes. "I really have no idea of what you're talking about." She crossed her arms and stared at the water flowing naturally and effortlessly in front of her.

She'd been just as good as following the path that had been created for her, once. Now, though, she was lost. Her balance was missing and she was spiralling, desperately looking for something to cling to but finding nothing. She'd thought Harry could establish a new balance for her, but now she wasn't so sure anymore. And if he'd tried, then she'd been the one to push him away.

"Do you think I should say sorry?" she murmured.

"I don't know anything, I'm just a crow."

Cora glared at it, barely able to see its dark feathers amongst the night sky. She knew she should've been freaked out by the fact she was having a rather civil conversation with a bird, but for some reason she wasn't. It felt oddly normal to talk to it.

"I think I should," she admitted. "He didn't deserve that."

"What sets us apart isn't how we pick our enemies, but how we build our friendships."

She looked at that spot above her again. "I'm pretty sure that's your weird crow way to say I should apologise."

The crow ruffled its feathers. "I don't have weird crow ways," it replied, sounding offended.

Cora let out a dry laugh. "You have nothing but weird crow ways."

"And you are a complainer, who would've thought?"

"I'm just tired." She sighed, resting her forehead on her knees, wishing the world would disappear if she closed her eyes. She wasn't made for all this. For continuous travelling and arguing and playing around with magic. She should've never left her hostel. She should've never gone to the Fair. She should've never given Harry a room.

"Of pretending to be someone you're not?"

Cora gave it another glare, the statement stinging more than she would've liked to admit.  She wasn't trying to be anyone but herself, and she was useless. "You sound like Harry."

"Then the King of the Fair is right on one thing."

"He always is."

The crow tilted its head. "Do I sense resentment?"

"I don't know, do you?" Her reply was sharp, and she had to take a deep breath to calm herself down before she ended up saying something she'd regret again.

The bird seemed to notice her tension, and it spread its wings. "I'm just a crow. But if you believe my words hold any truth, do apologise. You're better together than apart."

It flew away and left Cora alone to feel even more puzzled than before. She was starting to hate the way it always spoke in riddles.

The wooden ball rolled towards her again, and she threw it into the river.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter x
Miki