Kenza's wingbeats slowed to a stop as the long green grass of the woodland met Arja's feet. The surrounding tree trunks were thin and covered in moss with small white flowers dotted around. The moss also spread across the ground, covering everywhere except for the places Arja and Kenza stood. Kenza caught Arja staring at the clusters of flowers covering the mossy ground. 

'They're called angels tears.'

'Why?'

'I don't know.'

'You're a woodland faerie - shouldn't you know everything about the woods?'

Kenza gave Arja a quizzical look. 

'Who fed you that rubbish?' she muttered. Arja set her gaze on the ground. She felt so utterly moronic. Her tutor at the castle had told her that fae people knew everything about what surrounds them, and from looking at Kenza's eyes, the way the endless black seemed to hold so much, she had believed it was true. Kenza laughed. 

'Are you sure your tutor was qualified?'

'Did I say that out loud?'

Kenza raised an eyebrow. 

'No...' She mused, very matter-of-fact. Arja's features twisted with confusion. She couldn't have guessed- 

'I didn't guess.' Said Kenza. Arja placed her hands on her hips.

'What, so you can read minds?' She said, sarcasm dripping from her voice.

'Um, yeah.'

Kenza began to walk away from her, so Arja ran after her. she expected to feel the moss under her bare feet, but instead, she only felt grass. She looked down and found that the moss was parting for her feet. Kenza seemed to be unfazed by this, so Arja decided to experiment. She began bounding through the moss, trying to catch it off guard, all the while Interrogating Kenza about mind-reading. 

'So, You can read minds?'

'Yes.'

'How do you do it?'

'Magic...'

Arja came to a stop. 

'Yes, well obviously, I mean how do you do it? Does your magic force you to read my mind?' She said, tilting her head to one side. Kenza furrowed her brow. 

'How old are you?' She said abruptly, changing the subject. 

'I'm eighteen - why?'

'Angel's tears are youth flowers. The longer you're around them, the younger your mind becomes.'

'I'm sorry?'

Arja slowed her walking to match her pace with Kenza's. A thought rooted itself in her mind. Why was she acting so strangely? She was never usually this care-free. Arja had seen so many things in the past it became almost impossible to just think about one thing, but now, she noticed the deep-set dread of what the future might hold for her had almost dissipated completely. She didn't seem to care that Kenza could obliterate her with the flick of a wrist.

'That's why it's bad to be around Angel's tears for too long. That's why they've been enchanted to part for our feet. Some fae in the east woods use it as a drug - but it is banned everywhere else because the effects are sometimes prolonged and the aftermath is often fatal.' Kenza sighed. Arja stopped dead in her tracks. 

'Fatal?' She choked out, wondering why the prospect of death hit her so hard all of a sudden. Kenza smiled.

'That's why they never grow in large groups.' She said as the moss faded away behind them. Arja upon the last step out of the moss, Arja felt like she's been hit in the head by a brick. Darkness swam through her mind and her vision as she fell to her knees.

'Herin!' She yelled, the thought of using the Zarian Diety's name in vain crossing her mind briefly before the darkness swallowed her completely.

Arja, at fifteen, new every single creaking stair in the left turret. She was grateful for all the late-night trips into the palace gardens over the years Because this particular skill was key in her plan of escape. She had nothing but her coat, boots, and fighting leathers on - they were the easiest to move in. She carried nothing but a pouch of coins. 

She made her way down the stairs, and when she reached the corridor, she broke into a run. Portraits and priceless vases whizzed past, and Arja prayed she didn't trip on the long red rug rolled along the carpet - that would be quite the shocker to wake up to. She kept running, through the kitchens, stopping at the weaponry for a pair of daggers and a bow and quiver. Eventually, she cleared the doorway... And was grabbed by a pair of guards. They held her forearms firmly, Speaking in gruff voices. They must've been new, because the old guards new of her visits to the garden, and usually let her pass with only a nod, or 'Good evening, your highness.' She ripped her hood off, showing her face to the guards, one of them gulped, but the other stayed still. 

'Wot'r ye doin' out this late?'  He asked her. If he recognized her, he didn't show it. She scowled at him. He scowled back. Fine. She'd have to do it the hard way. She brought her knee up between the guard's legs. When he doubled over, she whipped out one of her daggers and cracked him over the head with it. He crumpled to the ground. Arja hesitated for a moment, wondering if he was dead, but she quickly pushed the thought out of her head. The other guard was still standing, shell shocked. When she moved toward him, he flinched. New recruit. She pushed her shoulders back and tipped her chin up. 

'I'd like passage into the gardens.'

'Y-yes yer highness!' He stammered. Arja walked past him with as much royal air as possible in scruffed-up boots, a heavy brown coat, and fighting leathers. She turned behind a shrub and ran outside the gates. She'd done it. The open night sky was limitless, and now, so was she.

Arja woke with a start, gasping like she'd been drowned. Another Fae stood over her. The girl had no wings or tattoos, but the same black eyes and pointed canines.

Another Fae, older this time, with Massive lilac-colored wings and tattoos sprawled across her arms and neck, bustled in. She had long flowing skirts and a flowery headpiece.

'Welcome to The Woodland, Princess.'