ADAM WONDERED IF it had been wise not to tell Purple that he had dreamt of them every other week whenever he had managed to nod off; or just as had been suggested, when he was awake.

The Dreamcatcher would appear to him as an unobtainable goal while they ran through a dead field —always ahead of him, out of his reach. But on the occasion that he did reach; that he managed to grab hold of their arm, they would collapse as a corpse on the ground.

It made no sense to him, for a Dreamcatcher to die in their human form and decompose like a mortal. As if they had organic life within them.

The dreams were twisted and nothing like the beginning of the one Purple had shown him. That dream had been wistful and unsettling ( he had not thought of her in any other way than a cure at first ); it had forced the soldier to face his own exploits and motives.

Ketiwe had not been the first person he had ever loved, merely the last. The very first time he had opened his heart to someone, it had been suspiciously blissful. Being with him ( the only him so far ); falling so deeply in love with him, had been as simple as breathing.

All of his relationships had begun that way: easy.

He hadn't needed to try when it came to loving someone, or having them love him. He realised that it would be different with Ketiwe.

Even with Purple —though they would not have placed such a label on whatever they could have been. Adam knew that Dreamcatchers did not love. Perhaps that was what had made him so willingly tear down his defences and finally do what his body had been yearning to do since they all arrived in the Fae realm.

It had been such an intense desire that he wasn't sure how to describe it. He had never wanted anyone like that —like it was the only way to keep him sane.

It was a shame that he could not have had Purple in the conventional way. It would have utterly ended and begun him —of that he was sure, because he couldn't stop thinking about what they had barely shared. He would have given them a night they would be even more determined never to forget.

Even if Purple were entirely human though, it was unlikely that Adam had a chance of doing anything now.

Nor did he have the chance to answer their question completely and honestly.

He hadn't wanted to admit it when Purple first asked because giving them an answer felt like he was lumped with them —they had dreamt of him, and him doing the same was just a confirmation of Fate at work.

He hadn't wanted to be tied to them.

He still didn't wish for it now.

But after what the both of them had done, he knew that going back to before —and if by some miracle, Purple was spared —was impossible. There would always be an awkward, lustful tug between them. And in light of the Dreamcatcher's revelation; their summoning...Adam could not ignore it any longer.

It almost felt as though he couldn't function without them. Not just physically —but he felt more like the man he used to be around the Dreamcatcher.

More human.

Ironically, his ears then decided to protest against the non-human prosthetics clipped onto them. At least they kept out the cold. Adam might not have quite noticed it before, but the woods were unforgiving. He could feel the ice and snow crunching beneath his borrowed shoes —which was apparently something inconsequential to the Fae who lived here. Their bodies adapted and accepted the frigid weather.

For a human, or any creature of magic beyond the river border, it caused teeth to chatter and limbs to freeze. It also made staying in character very difficult.

Georgia however, seemed to be coping with it by thinking of Purple; her face was grief-stricken and her muscles were locked tight. She strode through the snow drifts with her trainers as though it were merely pesky weeds and grass, fiercely gritting her teeth.

The soldier envied her costume just a little. It was loose enough to move around in freely. Everything about his own disguise itched or bothered him in some way, but he tried to take it in stride since Purple had said that he looked like a Fae prince.

A compliment from the Dreamcatcher was rare, especially such a flattering one, so he wanted it to be one of the last things he remembered about them.

He shivered at the finalising thought.

Admittedly, he did feel a little bit like Faerie royalty in the ensemble: the clothing was so stiff and rigid he finally understood why most higher Fae had such good posture: it was almost impossible to slouch.

The clothes also made Edva more intimidating —he almost seemed to grow a further five centimetres. The Faerie's garments had been loose for ease of movement when the humans had met him. Now he was dressed in something similar to Adam to compliment his vibrant sapphire complexion, with the addition of an intricate circlet made of ice pressed to his forehead.

Edva had told the soldier that he would have given him one as well —if his highly inconvenient human body was not constantly hot enough to melt it.

Their bags and belongings had been glamoured with a spell of size reduction, so as to avoid questioning. It did not take away from the weight, however. Adam sighed and barely ducked under a branch, careful of the falling snow that followed the movement.

It wasn't that he was ungrateful —he knew how incredibly extraordinary the situation was. He had just expected more from the Faerie guiding them; who still had not revealed the extent of his magic. But the soldier was convinced that Edva could have completely made their luggage disappear until they crossed the Gate.

Georgia then suddenly fell in step with him, her eyes narrowed. Seeing her in anything but what she had been wearing was rather odd, regardless of how long he had known her. And another thing which he was used to: she wasted absolutely no time in getting to the point. "How in the world did you nail Purple if they don't have any...you know," she asked subtly.

Adam clicked his tongue and raised a single brow at both the question and the language. He hadn't really expected the question from the teenager. How could it be the highest of her concerns?

"You're a kid," he remarked flatly.

"But I'm not a little one."

Adam's jaw clenched; he did not particularly wish to say much more to her in ways of conversation. He still thought her presence was a hindrance.

"I didn't...nail them," the soldier corrected.

"Well, that much I gathered. That's why I'm asking," she drawled, rolling her eyes.

She was persistent, he would give her that. And he then realised that he didn't care how ruined she might be. It was not his job to parent her, anyway.

"Hm. How did you even find out?" he grunted.

"It was obvious that something happened between you last night. You were sort of stiff and awkward. Then Purple got weird. I only used basic deduction. And, I can read a room," she scoffed. "...Usually."

"That is a surprise," Adam breathed.

"Rude," pouted the teenager.

He smirked slightly in response. For a moment, only far-off birdsong and crunching snow filled the air. Even though Purple would not have said a word on the journey, it still felt quiet without them. Empty.

The soldier then rolled his shoulders. "...I think that Purple would have told you anything that they wanted you to know," he eventually said to the girl.

She was about to retort, but was interrupted by Edva.

"We are nearing the first town," the Faerie announced gruffly, turning his head only to check that the humans were still behind him. "Remember your roles."

Sure enough, the makeshift path that the group had taken was beginning to widen, and the forest of pine trees was becoming less dense. The snow shallowed, giving way to damp and somehow dry ashy earth. All plants were either dead or completely white in hue.

Then the forest canopy cleared to reveal a solid clouded sky. The suns still shone through, turning the overhead blanket of grey luminescent.

Structures that Adam could only assume to have been houses once towered either side of them as they walked right through the town centre; made of deteriorating slats and tiles of of blue-grey wood and clay. The only sound was the squelch of mud beneath their feet and the wind whistling through broken windows. The silence was eerie, but Edva was not fazed.

"Why would we need to be on alert? There's no one here," Georgia murmured, inspecting her reflection in a cracked window. She flinched slightly. Glimpsing her Elfish mien clearly rendered her nonplussed.

"This place has long been abandoned," Edva admitted, "but it will not stop vagabonds and Faeries with no sense of pride from pillaging it."

"What's there to pillage?" the teenager deadpanned.

"Have you ever heard of a place so deserted and dead that anyone will go there simply to test their courage?" asked the Faerie. "Some say that the souls of the damned are trapped here, and not in the last ring of the Fields of Punishment, Inferis¹."

"A ghost town," Adam grunted.

"In the literal sense," whispered Georgia.

"Precisely," confirmed the Faerie. "So, behave."

Georgia buttoned her lip, and started swaggering like she owned the place. Adam rolled his eyes and held his chin up, as proudly as any higher Fae. Edva's wings stiffened slightly at the sound of any movement, but other than that it was the only reaction he gave.

The trio trekked through the snowy mud and dirt to the end of the town, marked by what could have been a small building that resembled a cathedral —though the humans knew those to be catholic.

"What do the Fae worship?" the soldier asked.

"The old gods whose names are in a tongue which you do not speak," answered the Faerie. He paused ominously, before adding, "...Or themselves."

Adam certainly wouldn't put it past them.

They then marched through the desolate town to find it utterly empty —a sure blessing from whatever was looking out for them.

Though Adam was sure that just as goodness protected, evil stirred nightmares. The human could have sworn he spied a withered skeleton hanging from a ceiling inside of a house, with its rags intact and torn.

He withheld the urge to retch, and told himself that these situations were not unique to humans.

Anyone could feel the desire to die.

And living in such a treacherous place, the soldier did not blame any of the deceased.

Once they had exited the ghost town the snow on the ground thickened again, while other colours seemed to seep back into nature. There were vivid shades from the rainbow, and beyond —colours which the human eye had not been made to comprehend. The magnificence was almost blinding, as if some of the stars had fallen and landed on the shrubs and in the trees.

In the distance, atop a snowy hill, sat a castle made of glass —or so Adam could conclude from their distance. The walls and towers shone and refracted in the sparse sunlight just as glass would.

No one needed to be told that that was where the king resided —and that it should be avoided.

Then suddenly, near silently, a tall figure stepped out from the leafed darkness into the path.

Adam tried not to react, while Georgia masked her surprise by scowling and shivering from the cold.

Edva's wings completely stilled, and his muscles turned to stone. His ears were flat against his head —he had not heard the stranger either.

Not a vagabond, but rather a higher Fae female. She had a striking human likeness, though her limbs were leaner and longer. Her skin was almost the same shade as the noon sky, and shimmering slightly. Her ears were pointed to a lesser degree, and her teeth blunt. And those eyes —a sharp, luminous silver.

"How unusual," said the Fae, her voice crisp and light, as though she had not had a drink in a while. But she was well-dressed and nourished, in a pale blue suit piece made with finer material than that which Adam and Edva sported. She was not even in a gown, and yet her beauty was not stifled.

The Winter Faerie gave no response, and allowed the Fae to continue without interruption.

"Statesmen are rarely found outside of the palace," she continued, tucking a strand of sky blue hair behind her ear. "What brings you outside, Edva Pinevera —have the Icen finally gone extinct?"

Again, the Faerie displayed no reaction. Adam found it strange that Edva would brush off the Fae's knowledge of his name. Did everyone just know everyone?

"I have no business in the palace. And I am not going to see the King," Edva said evenly, and his doubled voice still sent shivers down Adam's spine.

"Mm," hummed the female, lifting her chin up smugly. "You may not have a choice."

Edva snarled.

"Your cowardly absence has been tolerated for long enough," the Fae continued with equal bite. "King Zainus wishes to see you immediately."

Edva's wings flittered slightly. "So then, I see that you are still a carrier pigeon, Lena."

The Fae growled, and the sound ripped through the trees. "Know your place, Edva Pinevera."

"You can simply say my first name," the Faerie sighed.

"I can, yes," she quipped. "But I will not."

Adam and Georgia observed the exchange in respectful silence, thankful that the Winter Faerie was keeping the obviously well-connected female distracted. But it did not last very long.

Her silver eyes shifted to Adam first. The human stiffened. "You there. I have never seen you before. Are you from another kingdom?"

"My family was originally from Winfrost," the soldier lied smoothly. "We all went to the Gamma Plane to fight in the war. I...I was the only one to survive."

There was that weight of truth in the last sentence that sealed the act, and made it believable.

"And what do you want with the King?" Lena asked.

"Nothing at all," Adam grunted. "I am returning to the Gamma Plane to retrieve my family's remains, as well as to deliver this young Elf back to hers."

The Fae then scrutinised Georgia, who to her credit upheld her disinterested attitude.

"...You are a long way from home, little Elf," Lena then murmured ominously, her eyes narrowing. "And it is not quite as safe with these two as you think."

The teenager wisely refrained from speech, and merely clicked her tongue in defiance.

The Fae then sighed and folded her arms, bored by the result of discovering nothing amiss. "Well, you certainly have your hands full," she addressed Edva. "I assume that you are making for the Gate?"

The Faerie grunted halfheartedly in answer.

"Unfortunately," she articulated, glancing back into the trees, "I cannot permit you to do that."

There was barely any time to react as knights in intricate armour crafted from matte rhodium burst from the foliage and surrounded them. Georgia shifted on her feet, tense and nervous, but it was not unusual for an Elf in the presence of Fae. Though Adam knew that cooperation attracted minimal attention.

"His Highness solely owns the rights to that Gate now," Lena explained, shifting her weight to one leg. "He is the only one who can grant you permission." She then turned on her heel, before glancing over her shoulder. "...But I do think, Edva Pinevera, that the King will be especially pleased to see you."

Adam dared to exhale as the knights ordered them to march forward. The glass castle in the distance quickly grew closer. And with every step further from the right direction, he hoped that Purple was alive.

¹ latin for 'underworld'