After Darkness

Three hundred steps down. Three hundred steps up. The infernal tower she’d been locked in for longer than she could remember. She’d lost count of the days and nights.

Alice had walked up and down those steps more times than she cared to count. She’d tried everything on the cursed door. It wouldn’t budge. Sealed with Bindwright’s blasphemous magic. She’d hit it, kicked it, pushed, and pulled. She’d brought down blunt objects to beat against it. Not even a scratch on the damned door. The door could only be opened from the outside, presumably by her rescuer.

“What a foolish notion,” she thought, “rescue, no one is coming for me, they have forgotten me.” She grumbled as she made her way back up the steps. Her fingers traced the stone as she walked, gliding over the carvings she’d etched into the wall to pass the infinite time. Every so often, she paused at one of the narrow windows, each barred with cold iron. Her fingertips grazed the metal; it stung, like a burn, like touching a stove. This tower wasn’t just a prison. It was poison. Meant to hurt her.

. . .

From the western windows, she could see the Moondrop Cliffs, beautiful, haunting, especially at night under the full moon, when silver light cascaded down them like a waterfall. The water below shimmered like starlight, but the beauty masked the jagged rocks beneath. Gorgeous but deadly.

To the east and south, the mossy, ancient Staghorn Forest. She wondered if she’d ever feel dirt under her feet again, or grass between her toes. If her fingers would ever again touch the stem of a flower or feel the tickle of a leaf in the breeze.

Alice peered out a window as she continued up the stairs. She sighed as she reached the top of the stairs. She crossed to her bed and flopped down with a creak from the old wooden frame.

She looked to the tower’s largest window. That window mocked her, showing her a massive lake below. It was said that the lake was filled with the moon goddess’s tears. Alice loved watching its calm waters and wondering if she’d ever dip her toes in it.

“This tower is far too tall for mortals… and far too cruel for the Faerie,” she whispered.

The chamber was small, still, and silent, timeless. She looked to the posts of the bed frame that were no longer plain; she’d carved swirls and stars, trees and flowers into the wood.

A path had worn itself into the floor from her pacing between the bed and the stairs. Bookshelves curved along the walls, filled with titles she’d read countless times. She flipped through journals filled with scribbled dreams, failed plans of escape, sketches of trees and flowers, and one errant pigeon that tormented her.

. . .

Alice returned to the stairwell, finding the western window her favorite to watch the sunset over the Moondrop Cliffs. Tonight, the full moon would rise. It was her favorite kind of night. The cliffs would sing. Legends said the songs would lure fools to their end. Not that anyone ever came. She stood close enough to see, but far enough to avoid the iron bars.

“Who in their right mind would come this far? Who would ever find this cursed tower? Who would even…”

A Knock.

The tower shook, or perhaps it was Alice.

“Did someone… just…” She whispered, stunned. Her heart started to race. She bolted down the steps, faster than she’d ever run.

“I’m in here! I’m in here!” She screamed, tears streaking her face.

Then, the sound again. Alice tripped on the last step and slammed into the wooden door.

“Let me out!” She sobbed, clawing at the wood like an animal. Then click. The iron doorknob turned. The most beautiful sound she’d heard in years.

The door creaked open. She didn’t wait, she leapt eyes shut, tears streaming, a blur of gold and violet in motion. Her wings folded tight against her back, her breath caught on a sob as she threw herself forward into the unknown. And into someone’s arms.

. . .

A redheaded man stood just outside the threshold. He barely caught her, stumbling back as her weight collapsed into his chest. Her fingers fisted in the fabric of his deep forest green coat.

“Vael!?” She cried, voice cracking. “I thought you’d never come.”

For a heartbeat, she clung tighter, burying her face against his chest, trembling. He wasn’t nearly as warm as she remembered; he no longer smelled like sandalwood, but of cardamom. She didn’t care.

“Holy shit, Will, you were right!” The man blurted, half laughing. Alice blinked up, disoriented, her gaze struggling to focus on the man holding her. She stiffened. Her fingers uncurled from his tunic. The man called Will stepped hesitantly towards them, his light blue eyes locked on her large, trembling golden wings.

“You’re not,” she choked, looking into his bright green eyes, her sob broke loose before she could stop it. “You’re not him.”

Her legs gave out. Cassian barely caught her again as she sagged, dead weight in his arms.

“Hey, hey,” he said quickly, voice softening. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”

She didn’t respond, just trembled in his grasp, her wings flickering weakly. Cassian held her carefully, trying to adjust her weight without jostling the wings now half-unfurled across his arm. She was light. Too light.

William stood there, frozen, watching the scene unfold as if it belonged to someone else’s story. The broken voice. The golden blur. The name she cried. Then slowly, he stepped forward again, the leaves crunched beneath his boots as he crossed to her. He knelt beside them. Tears running down her cheek.

“She thought you were someone else,” William said quietly to Cassian.

Cassian gave a slight nod. “Yeah.”

William looked down at her face, pale and streaked with grime and grief. “Gods,” he whispered. “What did they do to her?”

Cassian adjusted his grip, softer now. “She’s out cold. Shock or something. Her skin’s freezing.”

“I can carry her,” William offered, but Cassian shook his head.

“I’ve got her.”

. . .

They moved carefully from the doorway, across the field of grass, until they reached the outer woods just beyond the tower. The light there was gentler as it filtered through the tree tops. They laid her on a blanket, then started a fire. Cassian wrapped her in his coat. Her wings twitched a few times before going still. Her eyes fluttered open again, glassy, unfocused, but awake.

William leaned in, voice low. “Hey. You’re safe. You’re not in the tower anymore.”

She recoiled, scuttling backward until her shoulder brushed Cassian instead.

“What’s wrong?” William asked, brows kitted, forcing a half smile, trying to mask the sting.

Alice’s gaze was fixed on his face, almost searching. “You look… like someone…” she murmured as her hand clutched Cassian’s sleeve.

His brow furrowed, “Someone good or someone bad?”

Her lips parted, then closed, and she didn’t respond as she continued to study his face. His cool, pale blue eyes, his platinum blonde hair. The lack of an answer made his jaw tighten, but before he could speak, she turned to Cassian. Her eyes narrowed as she inspected his messy red hair, shimmering green eyes, and disturbing lack of freckles.

“You’re not Vael.”

“No,” Cassian said, managing a crooked smile. “But I have better hair.”

“Debatable,” she murmured, already glancing away.

He let out a quiet huff. “You wound me, miss faerie.”

That made Alice smile faintly. Cassian’s grin widened, though his eyes flicked to William, reading the tension, and then, because the air between them felt too heavy for too long.

“Well. Now that you’ve passed out on me and clutched my coat like some tragic lover,” Cassian said lightly, brushing his hair from his eyes like some dramatic knight, “hi, I’m Cassian. The overly formal one brooding over there is William.”

“I’m Alice,” she said, voice hesitant.

“I can’t believe the legends were true,” William exclaimed.

“Legends?” Alice asked.

“Yeah,” William replied, I found an old story about a Faerie locked in a tower.”

“Oh,” she replied, her gaze dropping to the ground.

William rubbed the back of his neck. “May we enter your tower?”

“No!” She cried, backing away. “Please don’t make me go back in there!”

“Whoa!” Cassian said, reaching for her as she backed away. The men exchanged a look. Will pulled an axe from his pack. Cassian grinned.

. . .

They made their way to the door and reduced it to timber. Cassian turned to her, smirking, his green eyes gleaming.

“Free firewood,” he laughed. Alice stood, her legs shaking, wings still trembling.

“You destroyed the door.” She murmured.

“Can’t get locked in without a door now, can you?” He winked. Alice let out a choked laugh and beamed the happiest smile she’d had in decades.

Soon after, the door’s splinters crackled in the fire. It felt like a funeral… or maybe a celebration. Cassian leaned back on his elbows beside the flames.

“Cozy,” he said, poking the fire. “Could’ve used a few throw pillows, but I see the charm.”

“Feel free to climb up there and burn everything else inside,” Alice replied, smirking. Will stood nearby, arms crossed, his gaze flicking from the cliffs to the woods to Alice.

“You okay?” Cassian asked her, quieter now.

Alice didn’t answer at first. She was watching the stars in the sky, which she’d only glimpsed through barred windows. “No one’s asked me that in a long time.”

Will stepped forward. “Miss Faerie… we could use your help.”

“My help?” she asked.

“You think she really knows where it is?” Cassian asked.

“Knows where what is?”

“The Tear of the Moon,” William said, almost a whisper. Alice froze. So many emotions went through her.

“It’s somewhere in the Shattered Pearl Islands,” William added.

“In the Sanctuary of the Turning Face,” she whispered. “Guarded by the Moon Court.” The men exchanged glances, cautious excitement lighting their faces.

“You know it, then?” William asked.

“Yes. That was my home. Before…” She turned toward the tower, “I don’t think the Moon Court will just let us take it, though; it’s a sacred relic.”

Cassian held out his hand. “Alright then. You’re coming with us.”

“Really?” she asked, her hand hesitating to take his.

“What if someone comes looking for her?” William asked.

“Then they can look harder,” Cassian replied confidently.

Alice looked between them, Cassian, red-haired and muscular, green eyes alight with smirking charm. William, light sky blue eyes, blonde and lean, quiet but serious.

The fire crackled, shadows licked across the stone. Smoke drifted toward the sky. Cassian tossed a pebble into the wind. Alice’s gaze lingered a fraction too long on William. His profile caught the light, sharp jaw, pale lashes, the slope of his nose, and for a heartbeat, something in her chest pinched. Familiar. Not him, but close enough that she felt a pain in her chest.

William’s mouth tightened, just barely, as though he’d felt her eyes pass over him. A wince, gone in an instant. “You never said if you’d help us,” William said.

“You freed me,” Alice replied softly. “I owe you my life,”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Cassian gestured southward, toward the lake and the forest. “Then I guess we’re headed to the coast. To find something old. Something fae.”

“What do you need the Tear for, anyway?” She asked.

William hesitated. “My mother. She’s dying.”

“And you think the Tear will cure her?” she asked, voice sharper than she meant.

“Yes. That’s what the legends say.”

The fire popped, sending a coil of sparks skyward. Her gaze flicked to the tree line, then to the darkness beyond.

. . .

Alice padded around the fire, rubbing at her neck as William and Cassian worked to set it up for the night. She hovered over Cassian as he rolled out the bed rolls, trying to arrange them together to make a third spot for her. He dusted his hand and stood to admire his work, green eyes glinting in the firelight.

“Do we have to stay here?” Alice asked, her wings tight to her back, buzzing in short bursts.

“It would be easier to get through the woods at first light,” Cassian replied, “Nervous wings?”

“I don’t think you would much enjoy sleeping at the foot of your prison,” Alice grumbled.

“You’re safe, I swear,” Cassian said earnestly, sitting on the side of the bedroll and patting the space in the middle. “I put extra leaves under your spot.”

“You don’t really expect me to sleep between you both, do you? Alice asked, raising a brow at the man.

“Well, we only packed two bedrolls.”

“Seems like poor planning.”

“Cassian didn’t believe you were real,” William added in from his spot beside the fire. Alice turned to look at him, her wings flaring briefly before folding down her back, “He said one roll per person, we were not bringing a third for a ghost.” William finished as he poked the fire with a long stick.

“I’m very real.” Alice sighed.

“Yeah,” Cassian nodded, “But I didn’t want you to be.”

“She can help cure my mother,” William said, bolting to his feet.

“True,” Cassian replied, brows furrowed at his friend, before he turned to look at Alice, “but I didn’t want to find a poor girl who’s been locked in a tower, alone, for longer than either of us has been alive.” Cassian’s mouth made a hard, straight line as he looked down at his feet, “It’s too cruel.”

William threw his stick into the fire and sighed, “Yeah, you’re right.”

Alice finally sat down on the bedroll beside Cassian. “If either of you touches my wings in my sleep, I’ll kick you.”

“Fair,” Cassian laughed, lying backward on the thin cushioned roll.

. . .

Morning came, and Alice opened her eyes, “GET AWAY FROM ME!” she shouted as she shot to her feet and bolted from the bedroll, a violet glow surrounding her.

“What’s wrong!” William asked, sitting up and hurrying to his feet. Alice was pale, her heart was racing in her chest, as she stared down the blonde-haired man before her with wide, terrified eyes.

“Not again!” She cried, pulling her wings in close, her arms wrapping around herself as the violet glow grew brighter.

“Alice?” William asked, taking a step towards her, and she stepped backward.

“Stay away!” She snarled. Cassian hurried past William, said, awoken by their racket, and went up to Alice.

“Wings, what’s going on?” he asked, reaching out for her. She glanced between the two men, her flared wings lowering slowly, “You’re safe, I promise, no one is trying to hurt you.”

“Cassian,” she stammered, “Sorry, I-I,” she murmured, looking away from them. William approached her, but she would not meet his eyes.

“Alice?” he asked, voice full of concern.

“Let’s just get going,” she said, storming past him, wings flaring again and folding back down as she yanked the bedroll up from the ground and started to roll it up.

Cassian clamped a hand over his friend’s shoulder before walking slowly over to Alice and crouching down to help her pack up their gear. He looked up at her, his green eyes meeting her violet ones, and he smiled softly.