The remainder of the journey is boring. As we get closer to the town, we stop seeing anything even remotely interesting. The trees are mostly younger and planted in neat little rows, there are no exciting essentia fueled plants around, and all of the ground cover in general has been cleared away for orderly footpaths.

  I think I knew, somewhere in the back of my mind, that things would be this way near settlements. But father never once mentioned rows of perfectly spaced trees. It looks so unnatural. “I guess there is novelty in that. I've never seen trees planted like this before. So maybe I just need to look at these things as potentially unique. I shouldn't assume that just because it's the norm here, it will be the norm everywhere…”

  As midnight approaches, we arrive near the town and it's so cool! I take back everything I said about the rows of trees. Turns out they did that to build walls of ironwood, metal banding, and white stone, easily twenty feet tall at their highest points at the corners. It's a visual tapestry of steel, white, and the reinforcing multicolored metallic wood the region is known for, with a surprising amount of artistry. I only wish I could see it in the day, not in the hazy halflight spread by those weird crystal lamps that regularly dot its parapets.

  Behind the wall, I see tall buildings, probably taller than anything I've ever personally seen — other than that mage tower on the edge of the lands of tale and song… but that might be considered cheating since it's held up with magic, not engineering…

  The tallest of the buildings is probably over fifty feet tall. Each of them looks packed in densely and messily, like cookies dumped in a jar, their tall, steep, roofs looking like knifepoints aimed towards the heavens. Each of the roofs is a different color, or shade of color. All clearly shingled with ironwood tiles of myriad colors that offset the lesser variety in the building colors themselves — though, most of them are the rusty red of the average ironwood.

  And finally, as we finally make it onto an orderly brick-paved road and start to make our way towards the town proper, I have a thought, spurred by Ayre and Olly's explanation earlier. Which, despite my excitement about the town, I am definitely still very mad about. Especially since Olly hasn't really talked since, probably just as mad as me, I imagine. I'll resolve to ask him directly when I apologize to him.

  “Hey guys, should we just walk up like this?”

  Ayre stops so suddenly that she nearly tosses me off her head, with Olly following suit. “That's a good point. I'm used to having one of your glamours when I approach the town, so I didn't even think about it. So you think you could do that for us now?”

  I hop off of Ayre’s head to get in front of both of them, shaking my head, “Don't think so. Not now, at least. Maintaining that glamour with my current ability to access magic is probably going to be unreliable at best. Let alone after a long day of running and having carried that bag earlier.” I explain, but turn to a thoughtful gesture. “It is really late, though, and pretty cold if Olly's constant shivering is anything to go by, so why don't we just wrap you both up really densely in cloaks and blankets?” it's a perfect idea, I think.”

  “How should I hide the arm? Should I hide the arm? I get why we want Ayre more obscured, but what about me?” Olly asks the air, not addressing either of us — seeming even to be talking to himself more than anything.

  “You should probably hide the arm, Olly.” When Ayre answers, Olly shakes his head, surprised, and turns back to look at her. Curiously, his eyes seem to have purple flecks floating around in them. I fly over and right into his face to inspect. It’s too interesting not to.

  He flinches back, but I’m expecting it, so I move forward with him in pursuit, “Let me look at your eyes. They’re weird and I wanna see them.” After a couple more stumbling steps, he rights himself and I catch up.

  “Uh, sure, Lilly. What do you see?”

  I peer in as he opens his eyes wide, willing some essence to my eyes with a brief incantation.

  By Sight, show me that which your eyes see, that I may help my friend be.

  He looks distinctly uncomfortable as I drift closer, but I lean in as close as I can without actually touching his eye. My eyes begin to adjust to the Elysian essence settling in them, and I start to see the connections of the world. Threads that connect all things to one another, people, places, things, and more esoteric concepts like events.

  But while that’s its main property, it can also show connections *within* a person as well. I find the flecks of essence drifting in Olly’s eyes. As I watch, they pop in and out of apparent existence, probably building into dense enough concentrations to solidify temporarily. When one appears, there’s an almost miniscule flash, and it quickly dissipates. I try to track one as it does so, and I see the essence being pulled away from his eyes, tracing an impossibly elaborate path through his brain before swiftly speeding along to his arm, growing brighter the entire way. It leaves a thread behind that slowly breaks down over time.

  I flutter back, puzzled. “You sure didn’t use an ability or cast a spell?”

  “Not that I’m aware of, why?”

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  “Not sure. I wish I could show you this, Ayre. I don’t know how to describe it, and I don’t know magic well enough to make anything of it.” I sigh, looking at the connections between the three of us. All people form many connections, even multiple with the same person.

  Ayre and I have two threads of pure gold linking us. One is straight, near blindingly bright compared to the muted surroundings, and links from mind to mind. A representation of our interest in one anothers hobbies and thoughts. The other, which is winding to the point of passing back on itself in dense knots, is rose gold and connects between our hearts. Love, care, worry. All the things you feel with your heart.

  Ayre also has a new connection not quite like anything else I’ve seen, one that isn’t external but instead is a densely woven ball around her core where her and her parents’ remnants mingle. A powerful connection, lasting beyond death and across time because it was held fast to. In the past, Ayre’s only connections pointed towards me and the shrine, but it's like she gathered up all of those threads in a ball and shoved it in her chest. Now, she’s also forming a new one with Olly. One that links strongly in her heart, and links nearly as strong to his own.

  I frown as I turn back around to Olly and inspect him more closely. Every connection he has with the world is tenuous. Many threads of every color, indicating a rich life before all of this. They’re barely even visible under scrutiny, and appear to be fraying as I watch. They all connect the direction we’re heading. Through, and probably beyond, the town if their thinness is anything to go by. But one, the only notable one, is going the other direction. Down the road behind us towards the big city Ayre mentioned. It’s a thread that is mixed between a cold, scared, blue and a searing, angry, red. It’s a powerful connection. So much so that it’s probably the brightest between all the ones I see except Ayre and I’s. “Who could that be? Maybe a former friend? A rival? Why hate and fear?*

  I shake my head, dispelling the thought, and turn to the last one: the one between him and I’s hearts. One I formed artificially and by force. All around it, fae essence is swirling, trying to reinforce it. But as I watch, I see individual motes being steadily dragged towards his arm, only to be replaced with new ones at a consistent rate. The connection itself is imperfect. It breaks down at several points between us before reforming and has no distinct color.

  My frown deepens as I feel an indistinct, uncomfortable feeling in my chest. It hurts, I think. “Did I mess up doing what I did? What else was I supposed to do?” As I float there, I feel worse and worse, but I can’t really specify why.

  I lose a bit of my composure when I see him looking at me concerned, and I realize I don’t know how long I’ve been quiet. But I can feel my face marked with sadness, not just a frown but something nebulously worse. I think I realize what Ayre was trying to say at the camp. It’s not that he misunderstood me — it’s that I was just insensitive and didn’t think about his feelings. “Olly… I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply either of the things I did and make you feel bad. I…” I trail off, uncertain of what to say. All the words that come to mind focus on how my intentions were good, but they feel wholly inadequate. My spell comes to an end, returning the world to its colorful and vibrant palette.

  “Oh, that stuff? I’m not worried about that, Lilly.” He gives me a soft smile, one that is *obviously* disingenuous… or at least not *entirely* honest. His words ring at least partially true to the ears of the world, but there’s no way to know which parts. “I’d be lying if I said it didn’t hurt at the time — both times — but I didn’t think you said it to hurt me.” That one rings entirely true.

  It doesn’t make me feel better, though. It just means I *did* hurt him, both times.

  “Olly, if I say anything like that, can you just tell me right then and there? I’m not used to dealing with people who aren’t fae or Ayre, and neither of those are remotely as spec-” I catch myself, words trying to come to my mouth unbidden. “I just really want to help, but I don’t know how. I can heal you when you need it, but I can’t do the stuff Ayre can.” My mind drifts back to the connections between Ayre and Olly, and I trail off.

  After a few moments, I see Olly hold out his left hand with an expectant look. Feeling defeated by *something*, I try to bring my mind back to the present and settle onto his hand. The moment I do, he lifts me to the left side of his chest to mimic the hugs Ayre and I have.

  Something in my heart sings at the contact, so I reciprocate it as well as I can, but he’s even broader than Ayre, so it’s even less effective but doesn’t feel any lesser for it.

  When he moves his hand away after a little while, he speaks first, “Seriously, Lilly. I’ll tell you the same thing I told Ayre today. Without the two of you, I’d be worse off than I am with any misunderstandings. I’m no better at any of this than you both are, so if you will put up with me, I’ll do the same for you.”

  Something flies into my eye, so I drift away, wiping the resulting few tears. It would be undignified for anyone to see someone of my stature looking so badly affected by such a simple thing as a bug in my eye, so I make for a nearby, sight blocking, leafy branch and settle into it, swiping at my eyes with a bit of my dress.

  “Keep it together, Lilly. That’s twice in as many weeks you’ve cried. First for Caoimhín and now for Olly. You’re out of the forest now and there are people relying on you! Be like the Hero from the stories! Stoic! Strong-willed! Adventurers don’t cry from a hug!” I chastise myself, feeling entirely overwhelmed with all these emotions I’ve never had to feel before, let alone in such a short span of time.

  I hear Ayre speaking softly to Olly in between deep breaths to try to center myself, “Don’t worry Olly, you’re fine. Lilly just needs a minute or two.” A pause, “No, she’s not upset with you, I promise.” Another pause, “I’ve known her my entire life, I’d know. Just keep being you, and she’ll be back when she’s feeling up to it.”

  I smile despite myself, and recast my incantation. I know it’ll leave me feeling drowsy, but it’s late, so is that really that bad?

  As the sight of the world falls on my eyes, I see the connection between Ayre and Olly’s hearts strengthening as she puts a hand on his shoulder to comfort him. His face looks deeply concerned, but he gives in to her before too long, which seems to embolden the connection further, tinting it towards a more rosy color.

  “I think they’re cute like that. It would be a nice deviation for the noble prince to wind up with the dragon at the end of the story, right? After all, it's not the place of the fae to meddle in the affairs of mortals.” The thought stings a little bit at the corners of my eyes again, but I try -- and fail -- to smile through it. “There’s nothing wrong with having a bittersweet feeling for your friend making a connection, right?”