Chapter 6 Unpolished
Eli smiled faintly, spreading a blanket across the bed. "There. Not much, but it'll do."
Lyriel approached the bed slowly, fingers brushing the coarse fabric. "It's very soft!"
She lay down carefully, eyes wide as she watched the shadows dance along the ceiling. The air was heavy, filled with the scent of rain, smoke, and earth—so unlike the clear air of Eloria.
Her thoughts wandered back to the creature she saw outside, and she felt a shiver of fear just thinking about it. What could it want from her? What kind of creature was it? She was definitely sure it wasn't human.
Eli turned away to tend the fire, but when he glanced back, her eyes were already half-closed, lashes trembling. Her breathing had begun to steady.
He watched her for a moment—this strange, lost girl who spoke like poetry and stared at the world as though seeing it for the first time. Something about her made his chest tighten, though he didn't know why.
He returned his gaze to the fire, still squatting in place.
The first thing Lyriel felt was pain and discomfort. She rolled on the bed, searching for a comfortable position, but it wasn’t her usual fluffy bed. Her body ached, her skin still damp from the remnants of the rain.
She opened her eyes slowly. The ceiling above her was wooden, cross-beamed and simple. Morning light filtered through the window at the bed side. For a moment, she forgot where she was. Then the memories returned.
"Eli..." Lyriel sat up abruptly, the blanket slipping from her shoulders. The movement made her dizzy, and her head tilted for a second. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.
Her back felt… bare.
Her breath caught. She reached behind her, fingers trembling, expecting the familiar brush of her majestic wings. But there was nothing. Only skin, smooth and ordinary.
"No…" Her voice cracked.
Lyriel turned sharply, searching the air, half-expecting to see her wings folded invisibly nearby. "No, no, no…"
Her pulse raced as she searched for her wings. where had they gone? Was this meant to happen, or had the fae realm chosen to punish her for her disobedience? There was no way they could have vanished overnight.
"Breathe," she whispered to herself. "You're dreaming. You only need to wake properly."
A sound behind her made her whirl around. Eli stood in the doorway, a bowl of something steaming in his hands. His hair was tousled, his shirt half-buttoned, eyes still heavy with sleep. "Hey," he said gently. "You're awake."
His brows furrowed when he saw her pale and wild-eyed, "What's wrong?"
"My wings," she said breathlessly. "They're gone."
He blinked, confused. "Your what?"
"My wings!" She turned, showing her back as if he could somehow see what she no longer could. "They were here last night...I could feel them! My golden wings!"
Eli stared, a mix of concern and disbelief. "Lyriel, there's… nothing there."
Her heart pounded. "You can't see them?"
"I can't see anything," he said softly. "Maybe you dreamed it."
"I didn't dream it!" she snapped, her voice sharper than she intended. The sound startled even her. "They were real—" She faltered under the weight of his calm gaze, her mind going blank for a moment. Why was he so calm—and annoyingly alluring?
Eli sat on the edge of the bed, a smirk lingering on his lips. “Maybe you had one of those… hallucinations.
Lyriel looked away. The word stung. Hallucination! Such an ugly, heavy thing. It didn't fit the truth she carried in her bones.
She muttered, almost to herself, “You’re lucky you’re just an ignorant human. Otherwise, I would have made you bleed to death."
Eli frowned but didn't push further. Instead, he handed her a cup of warm tea. "Drink this. It'll help,"
She accepted it reluctantly and stared at it with disdain. How could this heartless human make her start her morning with the same bitter tea—why this tea, of all things? The first sip burned her tongue, yet she took another before dropping the cup onto the table. Perhaps, when he turned away, she would pour the remaining contents onto the floor.
Eli rose and busied himself near the window, pretending not to watch her. "You must've had a long night. You kept murmuring strange things in your sleep."
"What kind of things?"
He hesitated. "Names, maybe. Something like… Eloria?"
Lyriel froze. That name didn't belong here. It wasn't meant to be heard by mortal tongues. "How did you remember that?" she asked quietly.
He shrugged, as if it meant nothing, and offered a bowl of porridge potatoes—which looked far better than the damn tea. She took the bowl hurriedly from his hands and murmured, “Thank you.” She was just too hungry and needed proper food.
She ate the potatoes with the wooden spoon he had given her. No way—she had never expected Eli to be such a good cook. But as she savored the porridge, the glow in her eyes dimmed, remembering what she had lost. Her wings were gone. Her light was gone. She was stranded—truly mortal now.
Eli busied himself by the hearth, pretending not to notice her quietly subbing as she shoveled more porridge into her mouth. "If you're feeling better later, I could show you around the village," he said lightly. "It's small, but it's home."
She swallowed hard. "Yes," she whispered. "I'd like that."
Lyriel stepped outside barefoot, feeling the damp earth beneath her toes. She breathed in the scent of rain-soaked soil and fresh grass. The human world had a peculiar smell—something entirely different from Eloria. There was no rain there, yet every Fae knew it existed in other worlds, especially the world of humans. Too bad she had been too cold and helpless to savor last night’s downpour.
The temple bell rang from the distant mountain, distracting her for a moment. She wondered what kind of temple was up there, and which god or goddess they worshipped. While she immersed herself in the beauty of the mountain and its height, a black crow rudely flew past her face and climbed onto a tree branch.
“Ugly bird!” she frowned as the crow stared at her. It was indeed very ugly, no kidding. Its claws were very long and sharp, and its beak was very black and ugly as well. "If I were that bird, I would definitely have committed suicide."
Eli chuckled.
They followed the path leading toward the village. Along the way, Lyriel paused at nearly everything. She crouched to watch ants marching in a line, gasped when a squirrel leapt across a branch, and once nearly ran off the trail to follow a butterfly.
“This looks like my wings, but a different color and size… and a slight difference in shape, though,” she exclaimed.
"Do you always get distracted this easily?" Eli teased.
"Everything moves differently here," she said, spinning slowly to take it all in. "Your world is so… unpolished. But beautiful for it."
Eli sighed, but not in relief.