Evette's eyelids fluttered shut. She could not stay awake any longer. Her body refused to endure another sleepless moment. A loud noise sounded from beside her, and she felt her right cheek heat with a sudden discomfort. Narcisse's folded leather gloves and heavy hand were what had caused her body to jerk forward.

"What's wrong?" She gasped. Her eyes shot open, and she tightened her grip on the reigns in her hands. The four horses she commanded had been walking for hours, and she had fought to stay awake with each step they took.

"You were falling asleep." Narcisse said from beside Evette. His brown courser paced beside the wagon. He placed his gloves back into the saddle bag at his side. He preferred to not wear them when riding. They were best used for slapping innocent, tired elves.

"I did not mean to," Eve whispered as she sat up straight. "I'm just tired." She yawned loudly.

"So am I, but at least I am not giving in to temptation. Will I need to startle you awake again? Best tell me now." Narcisse reached for his pair of brown gloves once more, and Evette quickly spoke up.

"That won't be necessary!" She said, her eyes wide.

"Good." He said simply.

Evette gently shook her head. She stared into the dark, her eyes heavy with exhaustion. Out of the corner of her right eye, she could see Narcisse glance over. She subtly met his gaze after a long moment. "You okay?" She asked quietly when she caught him staring.

Narcisse cleared his throat. "Just checking. You can not fall asleep again." He answered.

"I won't. You can stop staring." Eve shot back. She heard Narcisse chuckle under his breath, and shift in his saddle.

"I was not staring."

"Whatever." Evette mumbled under her breath.

"Did your parents teach you any manners?" Narcisse asked, his tone disapproving. 

"I had many lessons, but I do not remember most of them." Evette said honestly. She sat back in her seat, one hand on the reigns; the other behind her head. Her lack of care was evident, and her unladylike posture was laughable.

"If you are going to pretend to be someone you are not, you should at least try to be convincing in your role. You should work on your posture." The words lightly stung, and Evette was quick to reply to Narcisse's honest observation.

"What does my posture matter?" Evette asked as she secretly rolled her eyes.

"It matters to the people who you should at least try to impress. Those in high places judge everything, every single detail. It does not matter to me. I am simply trying to speak from the viewpoint of someone who may harshly judge you due to your lack of ladylike tendencies." Narcisse clarified.

"I have spent my entire life living amongst people who base so much on posture, and language, and what color dress they wear. It is comical, because it's not like they have anyone to impress. Our population numbers decrease every day, and there is a shortage of royal elves. It is a bit delusional to expect five young girls to marry and carry on royal blood lines, when they were barely taught to take care of themselves. Who will they marry? When their parents realized it was time for them to suddenly grow up, what did they do? They go and send their daughters away to practically throw themselves at a foreign king who is most likely a middle-aged creep who gets his thrills by torturing people. Ugh, why do elves have to be so ignorant sometimes? We get so caught up in our feelings, and ignore all common sense. It is a curse." Evette began her rant. She was wide awake now; unafraid to babble her feelings out loud.

Narcisse heard her voice fade out slowly. It faded back in after a few moments. He was not listening very closely. Something was distracting him, and he had not realized. "What about your little knight? Why not just run off with him and leave the talk of bloodlines to the people who care about them. Let them bathe in worry of who their daughters will marry." He said in a bored tone.

Evette turned her face away, embarrassed. "He is a personal guard, not a knight." She corrected. "And it just isn't that simple."

"Why not? You both seem to like each other. May as well live reckless while you are still alive. I did crazy things when I was your age." He said.

"Well, I'm not you. I did not embark on this journey to run away with Noel. I came to keep an eye on him."

"Did I hear you correctly? You ran away from home to watch out for someone you do not even have romantic feelings for? Either you are lying to yourself, or you are simply ignorant." Narcisse scoffed.

"I did not say anything about running away."

Narcisse smiled when Evette caught his subtle accusation. "You did not have to. It is pretty clear that you are running. It is none of my business, so I will not ask why."

"Of all things, the reason I left is pretty apparent. . . I am considered a mistake, a child who was not supposed to be born, but my father is more of a bastard than I will ever be."

"It did occur to me that perhaps your father was the cause of you wanting to get away. My advice to you, just let it all go. Move on; stop thinking about what could have been." He said flatly.

Evette sighed. She did not yet have the closure she felt that she needed to move on, so she pressed her lips into a hard line and said, "Again, it is not that easy."

"It is as easy as you want it to be. If you want to forgive and move on, then you will. If you want to continue to hate your family, and eventually end up hating yourself, then you will do that instead. It is your choice, not anyone else's." Narcisse paused. "I no longer put much thought into what I could have had. I could have had a lot more than what I got, but do you hear me complaining?"

"Says the man who makes dangerous deals with elves, and spends his time mourning over a lover long lost." Evette harshly said, her verbal blow hitting Narcisse painfully in the chest. "Like I would take any advice from a man like you. . ."

Narcisse unapologetically pulled his horse to a stop, unknowingly postponing the group's arrival time. Evette quickly realized and yanked the reigns on the four horses that whinnied confusedly. She slipped the reigns safely between a large crack in the wooden seat she quickly slid down from. Her weathered boots hit the ground, and she stepped toward the tall horse Narcisse comfortably mounted. He glanced down at the short girl with an unreadable expression.

"Is everything all right?" Rosalie worriedly called from the wagon. She peeked through the small canopy opening, her brow furrowed in concern.

"Yes, everything is all right. We have just stopped for a moment. Is Noel feeling better?" Evette asked as she stepped toward the wagon.

"He is asleep. I will have to better wash his wound and gather supplies in the morning, but he is okay for now." Rosalie reassured.

"You should get some sleep too." Eve suggested.

"I do not know if I can, but I will try." With that, Rosalie left Evette and Narcisse alone. She made sure to not accidentally step on any of her friends as she retreated back to her seat.

Eve turned back around and faced the man who she had hurt. Narcisse ignored her hurtful words.

"I now know who you remind me of. You infuriate me, and I realize why." He hoisted himself down from his seat, and crossed his arms over his chest as he stood on level ground.

"Who could I possibly remind you of?"  Evette placed her hands on her hips.

There was a long pause. "You remind me of my late wife. She was just like you, made it her mission to make each moment I spent in her presence a living hell. Would follow me 'round like a lost puppy, constantly running her mouth." He said, a look of clear sadness and anger in his eyes.

"If you found her so annoying, why did you marry her?" Evette asked in a soft tone of voice.

"That is a topic for another time." Narcisse said sternly.

"You were the one who brought it up. . ."

"I did not expect you to ask immediate questions." He shrugged.

"You should have expected that I would."

Narcisse scoffed. He wanted to avert his gaze; he found that the sky was the only comforting image in sight, so he looked up. He could not deny the sheer beauty of the dark sky, or the mesmerizing light of the stars. They flickered and twinkled above his head like magical bits of dust. He witnessed one fall right before his eyes, it shot across the sky like lightning, and struck the high mountains in the distance. The star's light slowly faded as it fell, leaving a trail of vanishing light behind it. He helplessly watched in silence, oddly wanting to reach out with his hand and somehow stop it from falling. He wanted to save it from its impending demise, because he somehow knew its pain. He glanced up at the bright moon overhead, and felt the urge to call to it. He was reminded of the strange habit that consumed him once every blue moon. It was a small observation he had made over the years, but he of course never acted on the urge. It would be strange for a human to call to the moon like a rabid wolf.

"I must say, you are very confusing Narcisse." Hearing Evette say his name brought him back to reality. He was no longer entranced by the sky above; he did not try to distract himself. Anger seemed to pool within his hurt heart, and he could not help but want to lash out.

"It's Sterling. You should not use my first name." He said to the girl, his dark gaze returning to her.

"Why not? Is it improper? Or will you have war flashbacks or something?" Evette was clearly teasing him. She had called Narcisse by his first name before, but perhaps he had not heard her. He was mostly disinterested in the small details, so it may have slipped his clouded mind.

"We are not on a first name basis. Is that a simple enough answer for you?" He grumbled.

"I suppose. Your last name is boring, and I do not wish to say it every time we speak." Evette groaned. Her deep brown eyes caught the moonlight, and the glare that sparkled within them was as bright as the stars in the sky. It was fitting for a girl named after the blinding, hydrogen filled lights.

"You think my name is boring? Says the girl who is named after a floating dot in the sky." He laughed in response.

"Fine, both of our names are boring." Evette confessed.

"There is no need to worry about that now, as you have a new name. You are supposed to be impersonating someone else, remember? Or have you decided to give your friend back her identity?"

"And waste the gold I already gave you? Never. There is no one out here to eavesdrop on us." Evette said confidently.

"Do not be so sure. We should be more careful with what we say out in the open, someone might get the wrong idea." He was still hurt, and clearly sounded upset.

"What idea might that be?" She wondered.

"That we're friends."

"Ouch." Evette placed a hand over her heard. "So if we are not friends, then what are we?"

"We aren't enemies." He murmured.

They stood beside the impatient stallion and the bubbly white mare. The two horses heard the low snarl before the others. They bobbed their heads and let out a loud warning neigh to alert the others.

"What was that?" Evette's eyes scanned the trees, but she saw nothing. The snarl faded, and another sounded from the opposite side of the dimly illuminated trail. It was followed by a loud rustle, and the whistle of wind through the high trees. Both Narcisse and Evette drew their swords, alert to the unfamiliar beasts closing in around them. Every sense of safety they felt was gone, the moment they watched a white wolf emerge from the dark. It was sudden, and startling, but they remained calm.

The horses fearfully stirred, and so did Evette. She looked into the eye of the white wolf as it approached, curious as to its intentions. It growled and snarled lowly as it stalked forward, its one green eye locked on the intruders who had traveled over the threshold of its territory. Its fur was as white as snow, and its mangled eye socket was blackened from the old blood that had corroded the infectious wound. It was a beast. A towering, evil looking, smelly beast, that was almost twice as tall as Eve. Its paws were as large as her head; fixed with long, sharp claws that left indents in the dirt as it traveled. She stared in awe, and felt her clammy hands start to shake.

The wolf's tail was long enough to wrap around a human, and suffocate them. It could squeeze someone tighter than a coiled snake. It stood up on its furry hind legs, and let out a rather quiet howling roar. Although it had a snout, and fur covered skin, it was no wolf. The brutish monster was yet another sight that Evette could not explain. She let out a whimper as she almost stumbled backward in an attempt to put some much needed distance between herself and the beast.

A smaller wolf approached the company from the road behind them. Its fur was dark, and its grey eyes were bright with bloodlust. Evette and Narcisse were seemingly trapped between the two freakishly large wolves. The fearful travelers locked eyes for a moment. They had established that they were not friends, nor enemies before, but now, they were something greater than friends. When they were faced with sudden danger, they had made a silent agreement. It was not a secret Eve had bargained to keep, or a silent deal of cards worth gambling over, it was life or death. It was an unspoken promise of protection. They were relieved to know that they were not imagining the scene before them. They knew they were not delusional, or insane; they acknowledged that they were simply caught up in affairs that did not concern them. At least, that is what they both thought. 

They were back-to-back now, both staring in opposite directions. Narcisse faced the white wolf, while Evette faced the brown beast that barred his teeth. Saliva dripped from their mouths as they drew closer. Their teeth were yellowed, and their front fangs were exposed to the night air.

Earlier in the day, Evette had run to her brother with open arms and glossy eyes. Unafraid because he was a familiar sight. Even after she realized that he was no longer in control of his own body, she still felt that she could trust the soul living within him. She had a bond with both her brother, and the blue-eyed spirit who had provoked her dreams. In a strange way, it was comforting to see them both. Eve was faced with a similar situation now, only her brother was not the monster before her. The beast's grey eyes were familiar, but not in a comforting way. They were gleaming with an insatiable hunger, and laced with an alarming danger. She had seen them before, but under different circumstances. Eve could not prove it, but she could have sworn they belonged to an elf who heroically stood in her way.

The brown monster reached out with a long arm, and lifted a single claw in the air. The pads of his paw were leathery and dryly cracked, while the fur around them looked soft to the touch. His long black claw extended in the air, and he bent down on all fours, elbows bent at the joint. His one-eyed friend stepped forward and the ground rumbled beneath his heavy paw. Narcisse tensed, and grabbed one of the small blades he kept tucked in his right boot. With a sword in one hand, and a dagger in the other, he looked to be more frightened than the horses.

Evette nervously chuckled. It was the worst moment, but she could not help herself. "If you think that little knife is going to cut you out of this one, you are probably mistaken." She said, her voice just above a whisper.

"If we survive this, remind me to punish you for laughing. I still wear my father's belt. The scars on my back are proof enough that his methods worked. I would usually never suggest it, but sometimes you have to make tough choices for the greater good." His voice was serious, yet shaky.

"How many lashes?" Evette asked. She was too preoccupied to fully focus. 

"However many it takes."

"I am not broken easily." She said sternly.

"We will see about that."

"I would like to see you try. Let us see who cries first, friend." Evette noticed the beasts further closing in. They took step after step, drawing closer with each second.

Tracing a dark claw along the top of the thin canopy, the grey-eyed wolf quieted its snarl. It sniffed slowly along the side of the wagon, and the sound of quiet sobbing could be heard from beneath it. Everyone except little Morgan was fast asleep. They snored heavily, oblivious to the two mangled animals right outside. It was odd that they had not felt the vibrations from the ground, but Evette knew that they were all exhausted. The young girl could not glance away. With one eye, She peeked through a small, torn hole in the back of the canopy.

"And you wonder why your parents dislike you." Narcisse said quickly.

"I'm not a pushover. I do not beg when I hear the crack of a whip, or cower at the sight of a beast."

Fear suddenly consumed Evette. She listened to Morgan's helpless sniffles. The girl hiccuped a few times before the beast lowered its head, and barred its teeth once more. Its raised claw pressed against the thin flowing fabric that separated her from the outdoors. Morgan let out a piercing scream, provoking the beast into letting out another howl twice as loud as her call for help.

"Prove it." Narcisse raised his sword.

• • • •