I am Willow of the Fae, and I have lived for 5,095 years. At this fleeting moment in my vast existence, I find myself the guardian of Ren Drakemore, the second prince of Arcadia.
One of humanity's many peculiar traditions is the annual celebration of their birth. Perhaps they mark each year because they have so few, a stark reminder of their sprint toward oblivion. To me, it feels excessive, an incessant acknowledgment of their fragility. However, through my observations, I have learned that birthdays hold great importance to humans. These celebrations seem to shield their fragile minds, especially those of children, who require constant nurturing from parents and friends to grow mentally stable. Though their customs often appear nonsensical to me, I have made efforts to emulate them for Ren's sake.
Today marks Ren's eighth birthday, and I have crafted a detailed plan based on seven years of trial and error. The first step involves preparing an overabundance of his favorite foods. After sampling 130 distinct dishes, prepared in 1,432 different ways, I have identified Ren's top five favorites. This tradition, as I understand it, also demands an excess, far more than he or his guests could reasonably consume. For the first time, I have even arranged for guests to join the feast.
The second hallmark of a human birthday is the gift: a thoughtful offering tailored to their often-fickle preferences. Ren, thus far, has struggled to appreciate the value of my past offerings.
On his first birthday, I gave him a Soul Stone, imbued with the essence of 100 fallen warriors. It was a rare and powerful artifact, yet to Ren, it was "just another rock."
For his third birthday, I presented him with a Magnus Spider. It was a magnificent magical creature, one that, if tamed, could grow into a formidable ally and protector. Unfortunately, I discovered that Ren harbors a fear of spiders, even those as "small" as two feet wide.
On his fifth birthday, I gifted him a Mythrilroot sapling. The wood of this tree, once fully grown, is prized for crafting the most powerful wands. However, I failed to account for the fact that it would take over two human lifetimes to mature and require constant mana infusion. Ren, regrettably, did not share my appreciation for its potential.
Despite these setbacks, I am confident that this year I have found a gift he cannot help but value.
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There is a knock at the tower door, and I open it to find Captain Gavin and the elf slave, Silfy, the head servant from Lord Griswald's estate. Gavin has forgone his usual heavy suit of armor, instead appearing in a simple blouse and trousers—an uncommon sight for him. Silfy, meanwhile, wears a modest yet elegant dress more befitting a noblewoman than a servant, though the slave collar remains around her neck. Gavin carries two large, cloth-wrapped items, his broad grin as unrelenting as ever.
"Welcome, and thank you for coming," I say, stepping aside. "Please join us upstairs."
"Thank you for the invite!" booms Gavin in his typical jovial tone, his eyes scanning the room. "Where's the birthday boy?"
"Up... stairs," I repeat, slower this time.
Even for a human he is an idiot.
Without hesitation, Gavin bounds up the spiral staircase two steps at a time. Meanwhile, Silfy bows deeply, her demeanor stiff and formal. "Thank you, Lady Willow, for allowing me into your home. Lord Griswald regrets that he was unable to attend and has sent me in his stead."
"Yes, he informed me. You are very welcome," I reply.
Still bowing, Silfy continues with what seems like a rehearsed speech. "While I am here, I will serve you as I would him and beg your patience if I cause any trouble, M'Lady."
Her fear is palpable. She must worry that we may be like other nobles, those who beat their slaves for the slightest perceived mistake. It's a reasonable fear, but not in this home.
"You poor child, raise your head," I say, unable to hide my frustration. "You seem confused about where you are."
Silfy stiffens, mistaking my tone for displeasure. Her eyes squeeze shut as she blurts, "Very sorry, M'Lady!"
"Miss Silfy, was it?" I ask, a note of impatience creeping into my voice. "Stand up straight and look at me."
Slowly, Silfy straightens, though she still avoids meeting my gaze. Her whispered apology barely reaches my ears: "I'm sorry."
"Silfy," I say firmly but gently, "you will not be serving us. You are a guest in our home and at the prince's birthday party. I need you to look me in the eyes, stop trembling, and relax."
She hesitates but finally shifts her gaze to mine. Her shoulders lower slightly as she takes a deep, calming breath. "Yes, ma'am," she says, her voice steadier.
I hold elves in higher regard than other mortal races. With their long lifespans, they see the world from a perspective closer to that of the fae. Their natural attunement to magic and the earth makes them almost kin to my kind. It is for this reason that I find the enslavement of elves a gross violation of the natural order.
"Miss Silfy," I continue, softening my tone, "you can expect the same care and patience from the prince and me as you would your master. All I need you to do is smile, eat food, and... GO. UP. STAIRS. Please." I add the last part with a shard of annoyance.
"Right away, M'Lady," Silfy replies, forcing a wide, awkward smile before hurrying toward the staircase in an ungainly stride.
I watch her ascend, shaking my head. I hadn't realized how deeply her anxiety about leaving Griswald's estate ran.
Worst-case scenario: if she ruins the celebration with her awkwardness, I can always erase the memory of it from everyone.
I follow Silfy upstairs to the second-floor dining room. When I arrive, Captain Gavin and Miss Silfy have already taken their seats at one end of the table, leaving the head seat reserved for Ren. Gavin looks completely at ease, glancing around the room as if expecting Ren to appear at any moment. His wrapped gifts now rest on the table alongside the one I had carefully prepared and placed earlier.
Walking to Ren's chair, I pull it out with one hand while waving the other to summon a winged spirit, a bat-like form made of swirling black smoke. The creature flutters and darts gracefully toward Ren's room before slipping inside.
The messenger spell's voice echoes faintly in the distance as it delivers my message: "Young Master, please join us in the dining hall."
Moments later, I hear footsteps descending the spiral staircase. Ren appears at the base, dressed in the formal attire I had prepared for him—a suit adorned with frills and ribbons. According to my research, such garments are popular among noble youths and highlight their status as the guest of honor. Yet, despite my meticulous planning, Ren looks utterly crestfallen as he approaches the table and takes his seat.
"What… are you wearing?" asks Gavin, his brow furrowed in confusion.
"Lady Willow asked that I wear these for my birthday party," Ren replies, his tone flat and utterly devoid of enthusiasm.
"Your surprise birthday party," I correct, offering a smile.
"What part of this party was a surprise?" Ren asks, his expression deadpan. "We do the same thing every year."
"I gave you only a week's notice," I counter. "And for the first time, we have guests!" I add, gesturing proudly to Gavin and Silfy.
Ren looks at me with an odd expression that I cannot decipher, but it is clear it is not the joy I anticipated.
Perhaps Ren doesn't realize he should feel happy about these traditions. Have I failed to teach him how to be happy?
"And how does that explain the jester's get-up?" Gavin presses, still visibly confused.
"This is no jester's get-up!" I rebuke. "These clothes are very popular among noble children."
"I do recall this style being quite fashionable," Silfy offers hesitantly.
"See?" I say triumphantly, looking to Ren for validation. Surely he will now realize he ought to be happy.
"They were quite common… two centuries ago," Silfy adds softly. "But they haven't been in style for some time."
"Come now," I scoff. "How much could styles possibly change in a mere two centuries? Now, let us move on to the food!"
Perhaps the new clothes didn't yield the expected result, but my plan is multi-faceted. Surely one of my tactics will elicit a joyful response from the young master. In the past seven years, I have failed to make Ren smile on his birthday. At this point, I see it as a personal challenge. In all my existence, I have never found any task too difficult. I will not be bested by this endeavor.
With a wave of my hand, bowls and serving plates brimming with Ren's favorite dishes appear, transported directly from the kitchen. The table is soon laden with far more food than anyone present could possibly consume. Gavin and Silfy both look suitably impressed.
"Let's eat!" Gavin bellows enthusiastically, immediately piling an assortment of meats onto his plate.
Silfy, on the other hand, glances politely at Ren and me. Though she has been allowed to dine with her master at Griswald's estate, she still adheres to the etiquette of waiting for the host to begin. Despite her composure, I can sense her excitement as her gaze darts toward the food.
Ren, however, remains unenthusiastic, his expression subdued even as the meal begins.
How strange. This food typically elicits a positive response.
Gavin, apparently noticing Ren's mood, speaks between hearty bites, his voice slightly muffled. "What's the matter, kid? Eat up!"
I tilt my head thoughtfully and reply before Ren can. "The young master is just a bit upset because his birthday also marks the day his mother died."
Gavin freezes mid-bite, his eyes widening as he looks at me, clearly horrified. "Oh... I, uh..." he stammers, searching for words.
Ren shoots me a sharp look, his face carefully neutral, before finally taking his first bite of food. Silfy, perhaps taking this as permission, begins eating as well, though she looks incredibly uncomfortable, her gaze fixed firmly on her plate.
"How is the food, young master?" I ask inquisitively, leaning slightly forward. "Does it perhaps make you feel any better?"
Ren pauses, his fork mid-air, and stares at me with thinly veiled irritation. "You mean about my dead mother?" he says flatly before resuming his lazy bites, his gaze never breaking from mine.
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Well, yes I was hoping it would. I guess food isn't that powerful.
The dinner progressed a bit awkwardly after that, for reasons I still cannot quite discern. While they ate, the brilliant magical display from the festival in the capital illuminated the window. Vibrant explosions of light painted the night sky, visible perfectly from the tower's vantage point. Gavin and Silfy seemed captivated by the display, their faces alight with awe and appreciation. Ren, however, remained disinterested, barely glancing at the show.
But the party was far from over, and I still had my trump card.
Once everyone had finished eating, they offered their thanks for the meal. With a wave of my hand, the table cleared itself, the dishes vanishing into the kitchen. Gavin assisted me by placing the three carefully wrapped gifts in front of Ren. I watched his face closely, noticing how his expression softened as he looked at the gifts. A spark of anticipation flickered in his eyes, and even the mystery of the wrappings seemed to brighten his mood. Surely, once he opened them, I would finally achieve my elusive goal—Ren's birthday smile.
Ren reached for the first gift, Gavin's. As he unwrapped it, his eyes widened in awe. Inside was a brilliantly polished short sword, its surface gleaming under the light. Gavin leaned forward, explaining with excitement, "It's enchanted with a paralyzing curse. Even a small scratch will immobilize an opponent, as long as they don't have magical defenses."
Ren's face lit up as he admired the sword. "This is perfect! Thank you, Captain Gavin," he said, his voice bubbling with genuine excitement. He even smiled, a brief but undeniable smile.
That idiot Gavin. He managed to make Ren smile on his first try...
Next was the gift Silfy had brought on Lord Griswald's behalf. Ren unwrapped it to reveal a neat stack of ten instructional magic books. Silfy explained, "These are from the Arcadian Academy of Magic's library. Lord Griswald arranged for Lord Lucian Kael, the Headmaster of the Academy, to lend these to you. If you need more, Lord Griswald will ensure they are exchanged regularly."
"The Academy's library," Silfy added, "is much larger than the collection here in the tower and contains knowledge from across the New World."
Ren's eyes sparkled with wonder. "This is incredible. Thank you, Silfy," he said, grinning widely.
That doesn't count. She's lived among humans for generations. Of course, she understands them better than I do.
Finally, it was time for my gift. Confidently, I placed it before Ren, gesturing for him to unwrap it. With careful hands, he removed the cloth to reveal a beautiful marble game board for King's Game. The board unfolded to display the detailed black-and-white pieces, including pawns, knights, mages, castles, and, of course, a queen and king.
Excitedly, I explained the rules: how each piece moves differently across the board, how strategy shapes victory. As I spoke, Ren's curious expression shifted, and finally, his face broke into a joyous smile.
I did it. I finally made Ren smile on his birthday.
I should feel triumphant. I have been striving for this moment for years, so why don't I feel victorious? Instead, I feel… warmth. Unfamiliar, overwhelming warmth. I can't look away from his glowing smile, the excitement dancing in his eyes as he examines the pieces.
I feel a strange, senseless urge to hug the boy.
I don't know what this feeling is, but I don't want it to end.
When Ren looked up at me and asked, "Will you play with me?" I answered without hesitation: "Yes."
Of course, this isn't for fun. This game is a tool for teaching strategy, a critical skill for Ren's future. Yes, that is why I agreed. It's all part of my plan.
Not long after, Gavin and Silfy thanked us once again for the invitation and wished Ren a happy birthday before taking their leave. With the dining room quiet once more, I set up the game board for Ren and me to play.
The soft clink of the wooden pieces against the marble board marked the beginning of our game. Ren leaned forward, his fingers hovering over the pieces as he studied the board intently. I watched him closely, noting the furrow in his brow and the way his lips pressed into a thin line. His mind was working hard, dissecting the possibilities, but I could see the hesitation in his movements.
"Your move, young master," I said, keeping my tone light but deliberate.
He hesitated before selecting his knight, moving it forward in a bold play to challenge my castle. A daring choice, but one that left him vulnerable. Without hesitation, I moved my mage to capture the knight, shattering his opening strategy.
"You aren't thinking enough moves ahead, Ren" I remarked with the faintest trace of amusement, though my gaze remained steady on him. "Bold deceive action alone does not win wars."
His frown deepened as he stared at the board, his frustration evident in the way he tapped his finger lightly against his remaining pieces. His king was protected for now, but he is only a few moves from checkmate. He didn't seem to realize the trap he had fallen for yet.
"You see," I continued, nudging a pawn forward, "in the game of kings, a ruler must rarely act directly. To expose oneself is to court disaster."
Ren's eyes flicked toward me briefly, then back to the board. I could tell he was absorbing the words, not just as advice for this game, but as a lesson for the world beyond it.
I moved my queen, gliding it across the board to solidify my control. "A king's strength lies in those who act on his behalf. Even the weakest pawn can shift the balance of power."
Ren paused, his hand hovering uncertainly over his castle. I watched as his frustration gave way to focus, his youthful face an expression of calculation. He didn't look at me now, his full attention was on the board. Good.
"Consider this," I said, moving my knight to threaten his king. "It is nearly impossible to corner a king with a king alone. You cannot win without allies to rely on. Furthermore, using your king to corner your adversary only exposes you to being cornered by their allies. Were you to confront my king directly now, you would only expose yourself."
Ren's fingers trembled slightly as they hovered over his pieces. Then, after a long pause, he selected a pawn and moved it forward, blocking my knight's path. It was a cautious move, but a smart one, prioritizing defense over retaliation.
I felt a flicker of satisfaction. "Good," I said softly. "Even the smallest piece can shield the king."
Ren nodded, though his focus remained on the board. He was beginning to see the larger picture, understanding the importance of positioning and patience. He wasn't ready to face his father directly, not yet. But he could learn to maneuver others, to pull the strings from the shadows until his enemies had no moves left to make.
Sliding my queen into position, I calmly declared, "Checkmate."
Ren's gaze lingered on the board, examining the trap he had fallen into 3 moves back. His king was surrounded, utterly defenseless. For a moment, he seemed frozen, and I could sense the gears turning in his mind. Then he looked up at me, his frustration giving way to something sharper, resolve.
"The game of kings is not about fighting every battle yourself," I said, my voice steady and deliberate. "It's about knowing how to use your allies to outmaneuver you adversary while protecting your king."
Ren exhaled slowly "Next time," he said, with a determined smile, "I won't fall for the same trap."
A small smile tugged at my lips. Not one of amusement or condescension, but approval. "I look forward to it, young master."