Chapter 8 The strange boy
Her expression softened as she gazed at the boy with pity. Looking at his pale skin and dry lips, one could tell he hadn’t had a proper meal for a very long time, he looked sick and weak. In Eloria, no villager could ever go hungry— It was seen as an insult to the Fairy Kingdom but in the human world, it was so different.
She reached into the purse and handed him a coin. “Take this!”
The boy took the coin and held her hands tightly, taking her by surprise. But there was something about his eyes that drew her in, as though she could gaze into his soul—so bright and glittering, like a blue diamond. She had never seen such mystical eyes. Compared to hers, and every other pair of blue eyes she had seen, his were hauntingly beautiful.
“You have to help us, Princess. You were called here for a reason. Help us fight the darkness—we need you,” he said, staring straight into her eyes, and she froze—his lips weren’t moving, so how could she hear him? She tried to pull her hands away, but the boy was surprisingly strong, far too strong for his age.
He drew her closer, locking his eyes with hers, and she fell into his telepathy again. “This man standing behind you is not who he appears to be. He is evil. Stay away from him!”
The boy stood up immediately and fled.
Lyriel stared at his retreating figure, lost in thought. Her mind went blank for a moment as she tried to process what had just happened. She was a fae, powerful and mystical, but she had never experienced anything like this before. Who was this little boy, and how did he know she was a princess? How could he speak directly into her mind?
“You can’t just take money from a person’s purse,” Eli stated, amused. He leaned against a stone, arms crossed, oblivious to what had just occurred between Lyriel and the strange boy. “You’d be branded a thief, and your hands would be cut off as a lesson.”
Lyriel gulped in shock. Her hands? Definitely not her beautiful hands—what would her mother say when she returned to Eloria? What kind of law was that? “But he’s hungry. He’s only a child!” she pleaded.
“No one cares,” Eli said flatly. “And you must learn the same. Caring only leads you into situations you could have avoided—and when you fall, those you cared for will be the first to deny you.”
Lyriel stared at him, speechless and struck by the weight of his words. He spoke like someone drawing from experience, and she wondered what he must have endured to think this way. Are humans known to deny those who cared for them? The books in Eloria’s library mentioned it countless times, often with exaggerated detail.
To her surprise, Eli took a coin from his pocket and slipped it into the purse. “Let’s go return it to the owner.” He took her hand, guiding her down the alley.
The strange boy had warned her about Eli, calling him evil—but as he held her hands, she felt the purity of his heart. If purity meant evil in the human world, then humans did not know the truth.
When they stepped out of the alley, the marketplace was still buzzing. She approached the woman—a kind-faced woman whose eyes were filled with worry. Lyriel held out the worn leather purse.
“This belongs to you.”
The woman blinked in disbelief, then gasped as she opened it. “By the spirits… it’s all here!” Tears shimmered in her eyes. “How can I ever repay you?”
Lyriel shook her head, a faint smile touching her lips. “Just be careful next time. Not every thief is lucky enough to be caught.”
By now, a small crowd had gathered. The people whispered among themselves.
“She caught him alone?”
“She’s the one from the northern woods, isn’t she?”
“Bless her—she’s no ordinary girl.”
Lyriel felt the weight of their gazes,some filled with gratitude, others with unease. Humans always admired what they did not understand… until they feared it.
Still, when the woman pressed her hands together in thanks, Lyriel bowed slightly. For once, she allowed herself to feel the warmth of being seen—not as something mystical or royal, but as something humane and natural.
“Let’s dance some more!” Lyriel announced excitedly, and everyone erupted in jubilant approval.
Unable to hide her happiness, she grabbed Eli and dragged him into the dance—something he never expected. Everyone watched them in surprise, so he had no choice but to play along. He spun her into the air and caught her easily. Lyriel’s grin only widened as she went completely wild.
The walk back from the village that evening was filled almost entirely with Lyriel’s voice—cheerful, breathless, and endless.
Her steps were light and her face glowing brighter than the full moon. “Did you see the old man spinning his wife around? He looked so happy,” she said, her words tumbling over each other. “Humans… they celebrate the strangest, most wonderful things!”
“…and then the children threw flower petals at me, and that man—the one with the red hat tried to teach me the spinning dance! I nearly fell, but he said I was ‘graceful for a first-timer.’ And Eli, did you see the lights? The ones hanging from the trees? I think humans use fireflies for that. Do you think I could learn that dance if I...”
Eli exhaled through his nose as they entered the cottage. “You’ve been talking since we left the market, Lyriel.”
“I’m just telling you everything,” she said quickly, following him inside, still full of energy.
“You already did,” he muttered, closing the door. “Three times!”
She blinked, confused. “You weren’t listening, were you?”
“I tried,” he said dryly, glancing over his shoulder, “but you didn’t pause long enough for me to answer.”
Lyriel gasped, pretending to be offended. “So you didn’t like the dance?”
Eli shrugged. “It was fine.”
“Fine?” she repeated, as though the word itself were an insult. “It was beautiful!”
She frowned when Eli sat down without replying, though he had heard her clearly. She followed his gaze and finally noticed her dress—the same torn, dusty one she’d worn since the forest. Mud streaked the hem, the once-white fabric was now grey, wrinkled, and torn.
He opened his small wardrobe and pulled out a clean shirt—a long, loose one clearly meant for him. “Here,” he said, tossing it lightly to her. “Put this on. I don’t have anything else for women.”
Lyriel caught it and stared, eyes wide."Now?"
"Yes! Don't worry, it's clean."
Her jaw dropped. "You want me to change here?"
Eli blinked, then realized what she meant. A hint of color touched his ears. "Fine. I'll turn around. I'm not looking."
"You promise?" she asked suspiciously.
He rolled his eyes but turned his back. "On my honor. Just… hurry before I regret lending it."
Lyriel hesitated a moment, watching him, then giggled softly as she slipped out of the old gown and into the oversized shirt. It nearly swallowed her—the sleeves hung past her hands, and the hem brushed her knees.