Holidays. It's all an unnecessary nuisance, a devil of a time. The magic of it all lies in the excitement of anticipation and preparation.
Christmas was creeping up on us, relentless as ever. I hate Christmas.
Alex, of course, had been bustling around the kitchen all day, baking like he was preparing for a royal banquet. He kept suggesting we decorate the house, and I gave him a look that could only be described as sheer disbelief. In the end, we settled on me tolerating the tiny fake pine tree.
The three days before the holiday passed in a blur. Everywhere I went, people were radiating some kind of nauseating cheer. A dark part of me—one I was loath to acknowledge, even to myself—envied their happiness. But I wasn't ready to face that. Instead, I found myself wandering the streets, trying to escape the suffocating warmth of forced smiles. That's when I stumbled upon the gypsies, peddling their flimsy charms and half-baked promises.
"Looking for a Christmas present?" a girl next to me asked.
I turned, startled, not having noticed her before. Her smile was sweet, but something about it felt off, like a lure in still waters.
"No," I replied flatly.
"Really?" she asked, tilting her head. "Didn't get caught up in the holiday spirit?"
No spirits at all! There were enough spirits in my life already, thank you very much.
I sighed, a deep, tired sound. "Maybe I should get them something, after all..."
She chuckled softly, a sound like the clink of wind chimes. "Maybe I can help you with that. Follow me, please."
I followed her, unsure why I was even humoring the idea, but curiosity had its claws in me. She led me to her caravan, a surprising contrast to the chaotic mess I'd seen before. It was neatly decorated, almost tastefully so, for the occasion. The air was thick with the comforting scent of cinnamon and orange tea, and silver decorations shimmered along the walls, creating an atmosphere that felt oddly intimate. It made me uncomfortable, but I couldn't deny it was oddly... inviting.
"Well, what kind of gifts are you thinking about?" she asked, walking over to a dark ebony table and pouring tea into two mugs.
As if anticipating my arrival, two cups were already placed on the table—one white, one dark blue. I accepted the drink she offered, nodding my thanks as I took a sip.
"I'm not sure, honestly," I admitted, a little sheepish. "I'm not great at this sort of thing. I just thought it should be something useful."
She guided me to the table, gently pulling me into one of the chairs before taking a seat herself. The tea was warm, and there was something about it that immediately soothed me, washing away the tension in my shoulders. It was the kind of comfort you didn't realize you needed until it was there.
For a moment, she was quiet, lost in thought. Her gaze was distant, like she was gazing far beyond the walls, somewhere among the stars. She exhaled slowly, then closed her eyes for a beat. When she opened them again, her focus was sharp, all of it directed at me.
"What's in this?" I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.
"It's a family recipe," she said, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips. "I can't tell you the secret ingredient."
I raised an eyebrow but didn't press. Instead, I took another sip, the warmth wrapping around me like a blanket.
"Tell me about your friends," she said gently, her tone inviting. "Maybe together, we can figure out the perfect gift."
I hesitated, then gave in. "My best friend is a werewolf," I said. "Honestly, he'd probably be happy with anything."
She nodded, her attention unwavering.
"There's a girl I like," I continued, "She's human. And then there's a vampire girl, a seer... and of course, my idiot brother."
I paused, letting the silence linger for a moment.
"And then there's this annoying cat kid. I don't think anyone else will bother with him, and he'll probably end up spending the holidays alone."
Her expression softened, and she smiled. "We'll find something for him, too."
She rose from her seat and hurried to a chest in the corner of the room. After a few moments of rummaging, she returned, holding a few items of clothing in her arms. With a flourish, she held out the first cloak, a simple black one, and explained, "This one is waterproof and has warming charms."
She tossed it over the back of a chair, then showed me the next one, also black but with intricate silver embroidery around the edges. "This one's perfect for any weather and is great for stealth."
She presented a few more, but none of them seemed to fit what I was looking for. Then she revealed the final cloak, a deep red.
"This one," she said, her tone becoming more serious, "is the most valuable. It's resistant to all kinds of environmental effects, and it has strong protective charms. Most spells won't affect it."
She slipped it on and pulled the hood over her head. The fabric shimmered for a moment before blending almost seamlessly with the surroundings, hiding her from view. Only by looking very closely could you make out her outline.
"That's impressive," I said, my eyes widening.
I knew immediately that this was the perfect gift for the gremlin kid. It was just the kind of thing that would suit him—mischievous, elusive, and clever. What better surprise for a thief than a cloak that could make him vanish?
But the cloak seemed almost too perfect. I couldn't help but feel a flicker of suspicion, and she must have sensed it because she smiled gently and shrugged the hood off. The cloak immediately returned to its vibrant red color.
"I'm sorry," she said, her voice soft with a hint of apology. "I didn't mean to overstep. My mother was an empath, and I inherited some of her talents. I can control them for the most part, but sometimes I get carried away."
"Empath?" I raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
She nodded. "It means I'm sensitive to the emotions around me. I can sometimes see memories or feelings through my mind's eye. So it's like I know your friends personally. If that bothers you..."
I waved her off, a slight smile tugging at my lips. "No, it's fine. This time, it's actually useful. But don't do it too often."
She grinned, relieved. "I promise, I won't. Just wanted to make sure it was the right gift."
She nodded, carefully folding the cloak and placing it neatly on the table before reaching into the bottom of one of the chests. She pulled out an amulet, holding it up with a glint in her eye.
"If your seer friend is after a quiet night, this should help," she said, handing it to me.
She rummaged a little more and produced another item. "This one," she continued, "will be perfect for your brother. It was crafted in India, and it will reveal his enemies to him."
I raised an eyebrow, impressed by her collection, but she was already moving on, her fingers brushing through the contents of another box.
"I think I've got something for your girlfriend too," she murmured mostly to herself, as if pondering over her choices.
A moment later, she pulled out a small, ornate box. She opened it with care, rummaging through its contents before smiling triumphantly. She handed it to me, her face alight with pride. Inside was a delicate silver chain, smooth to the touch, with a pendant made of moonstone. It gleamed beautifully, catching the light with a subtle magic that hummed in the air. As I held it, I felt a soft pulse of power, as though the necklace had a life of its own.
"I made it myself," Luna said with a smile of pride, her voice warm. "I infused it with protective charms, powered by the wearer's energy."
"Beautiful," I said sincerely, turning the pendant in my fingers. Luna's eyes softened with gratitude.
"I'm glad you think so," she replied, before turning back to the chest, clearly lost in thought.
"I have a few things for vampires," she said, frowning slightly as she sorted through the pile, "but not much that a young lady would find useful."
I shrugged, trying to lighten the mood. "I think I'll just grab her a packet of coffee then."
Luna's face lit up with a surprised laugh. "Wait a minute," she said, raising an eyebrow. "Your vampire drinks coffee?"
"Yeah," I shrugged nonchalantly. "Why not?"
"But why?" she asked, a puzzled frown creasing her brow. "Coffee's one of the few human drinks they can break down, but it doesn't taste good to them."
I smiled, a little more amused now. "Well, this vampire's special. Her best friend's human—a simple human."
Luna's expression shifted, a bitter, knowing smile tugging at her lips. "I see. I think I know exactly what gift would suit her."
She moved to the shelves, her fingers tracing over the items with precision. For a moment, she seemed to hesitate, her back to me, before she grabbed something—a small crystal vial. When she turned to face me, there was no hesitation in her eyes.
"This is a special potion," she declared, holding the vial out to me. "The only one of its kind."
"What's it for?" I asked, intrigued.
"It's a potion that can temporarily give vampires their human taste back—for one day only," she explained, her voice quiet but confident. "My mother used to make it for my father."
"Does it work on noble vampires?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
Luna froze, caught off guard, her eyes widening in realization. Then, with a slow nod, she said, "Yes, it works on them too."
I grinned, the perfect gift finally in my grasp. "Then I guess we've found the best gift for her."
She smiled back, the quiet satisfaction in her expression telling me she agreed. Then, after a brief pause, I admitted, "Even though I know Alex best, I still don't know what to get him."
Luna's smile softened, and she nodded knowingly. "That's how it goes. The longer you know someone, the harder it is to choose."
After a beat, she added, "But I think I know exactly what he'd love."
She handed me a plain, empty picture frame. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"A picture frame?" I asked, clearly puzzled.
Her grin widened. "I'm sure you'll find the perfect picture for it."
I shrugged, unsure of how to respond. "I don't see how that could be the best gift for him."
"You'll see when you give it to him," she said, her tone assuring and confident.
"Now, there's just one more thing," she said, and before I could reach for my wallet, she handed me something heavy and substantial—a large, beautifully bound book.
"Merry Christmas!" she said, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
I stared at the book, blinking in surprise. "What's this?"
She smiled, a look of pure joy in her eyes. "A little something extra. You'll find out soon enough."
I glanced at her in confusion, but she simply smiled, her eyes filled with an encouraging warmth, as she continued to hold out the hefty book. Reluctantly, I accepted it, my fingers brushing over the worn, old leather cover. The clasp holding the mysterious, untitled volume shut gave way with a soft click, revealing the first parchment-like page. The elegant fae letters in English would read 'History of the ruling family of our moon folk, branches of its sacred tree'.
Curiosity piqued, I turned the page, finding more rows of intricate cyradic script. As I continued flipping through the pages, images of moon-eyed nobles and hand-drawn depictions of their legends unfolded before me, each one more captivating than the last. The artistry and the tales seemed to breathe life into the pages, transporting me into their world.
My fingers paused at a bookmark, and my breath was caught on my lips. My eyes widened as I stared at the portrait before me. Vivid grey eyes met mine from the page, framed by long, silvery white hair. The fae in the illustration exuded a quiet, powerful presence, an ethereal elegance that was both commanding and serene.
Beneath the portrait, in delicate, almost illegible script, was inscribed a name:
'Alistair Amadé Pius Terebess'
A tremor ran through me, my mouth quivering as my eyes welled with tears. The flood of emotion was so overwhelming, it felt as though my heart might burst from the sheer intensity. Luna's presence became palpable beside me, and before I knew it, she wrapped me in a gentle embrace. I collapsed into her arms, no longer able to hold back the torrent of tears.
Her warmth enveloped me. Her scent, a delicate fragrance of lilies, filled my senses, grounding me as her fingers combed through my hair, offering solace. She held me tightly, shielding me from the world, as if to assure me that in this moment, I was not alone.
Time seemed to lose meaning. It could have been mere minutes or endless hours. I had no idea how long we stayed like that.
The tears eventually ceased, leaving behind a fragile sense of peace. Luna pulled back, her compassionate gaze meeting mine, filled with a tenderness that needed no words.
She had known exactly what I needed—to shed the tears that had been festering within me. Just as she had known that without her, I would never have wept those tears. In front of Luna, I didn't have to stay strong, I didn't have to pretend that everything was okay. She knew how weak and frail I was. She accepted it.
Even though I had a million more questions about her in my head than I could answer, I knew one thing instinctively: I could trust this strange girl.
"How did you know?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper
"He used to visit us every year," she began, her smile soft and kind as she gestured towards the picture. "The resemblance is unmistakable."
She must have sensed the unspoken question in my eyes, for she continued in her gentle, friendly voice.
"The fae mourned him," she said softly. "Their queen held a grand ceremony in his honor and laid him to rest among her own."
I nodded, the weight of her words settling heavily in my chest. "Should I be afraid that you know so much?" I asked, attempting a light tone, though bitterness clung to the edges of my voice.
Luna grinned. "Maybe."
A faint, weary smile tugged at my lips. "Who are you? Surely a simple gypsy girl wouldn't possess such knowledge, wouldn't uncover so many secrets of an informant."
"I am a simple gypsy girl," she replied with a mischievous twinkle, "nothing more."
I sighed, sipping my tea as she poured herself another cup and settled across from me.
"When I was born, my mother foretold a special fate for me," she continued. "She told me countless times as a child that I would serve an unusual king."
I arched an eyebrow in skepticism.
"This king," she went on, "does not desire the throne, which makes him the most intriguing of all. The Hueless King is independent, perhaps that is why he is the freest. Do not command him, for he follows none; follow him not, for he leads none. Stand by him, become one who is worthy. This, my mother always told me."
"The Fifth King," I murmured.
She shook her head. "You misunderstand. It is but a name anyone might claim. The true king has yet to reveal himself."
I frowned, not wanting to grasp the implication.
"The King is known by his lineage," she added, her gaze cautious, "for no other carries the blend of three bloodlines in his veins. Don't you see? You have been the Fifth King from the start."
"I don't believe you," I said, my voice chilling.
I could have jumped up and shouted at her and accused her of being a liar. But she spoke with the certainty of one who believes wholly in their truth. Besides, though the urge to lash out flickered, I'd outgrown that age.
She smiled indulgently. "You don't have to believe me."
Her calm dismissal surprised me, her refusal to defend her stance unnerving.
"It wouldn't make sense, would it?" she said kindly. "You don't want to be king."
"Then why tell me?"
"I wanted to warn you," Luna explained. "I can already feel the winds of war gathering. I fear they will strike with a sudden, cruel force, leaving no time for preparation."
I nodded slowly. "I feel it too."
For some time, I had felt restless, attributing it to the chaos of the holidays, which I despised as much as the fae loathed iron. Yet, I had refused to see the world unraveling around me, refused to acknowledge the growing madness and my helplessness against it.
"Maybe I'll finally make up my mind," she mused, perhaps more to herself than to me. "The caravan will be moving on soon, and I still have a year left to pay off my debt. When my parents died, the caravan owner took me in—not out of kindness, but as a debt to be repaid through labor."
"This owner sounds rather unpleasant," I remarked, frowning.
"He is," she admitted with a grimace. "But regardless, I want to be by your side when you need me."
It felt as though I had known Luna for a thousand lifetimes. Her presence was comforting, her smile warm and caring. Perhaps it was her unique ability, but she seemed to understand me in a way few could. And truth be told, even I struggled to fully understand myself.
"We're having a special celebration tonight," she announced, her eyes lighting up. "I'd love for you to bring your friends. I want to meet them in person."
"I can do that," I replied, nodding.
She smiled and handed me the bag holding the gifts. I finished my tea and stood up.
"How much do I owe you?" I asked, reaching into my pocket for my wallet, but her gentle touch stopped me. Her fingers, warm against mine, conveyed a quiet reassurance.
"Not much," she said sweetly. "Just bring your friends tonight."
I nodded in agreement.
She slipped a small bag into my hand. Curious, I opened it to find a packet of mistletoe nestled inside.
"Take better care of this," she advised with a soft smile.
"How did you know this?", I raised my eyebrows.
"The spell was crafted with my magic," she explained with a casual shrug. "I sensed it when it was broken. No tricks this time."
"See you tonight," I assured her, saying goodbye as I stepped out of the caravan.
Simon materialized before me, his translucent form gliding through the sea of people. His piercing gaze locked onto mine, a silent intensity radiating from his ethereal figure.
I sighed, already anticipating his words. Raising a hand, I waved him off, a mix of exasperation and weariness in my gesture.
"Don't say anything, mate."