Page 3 of The Ruins of the Heartless Fae

They didn’t talk again after that. All three of them worked for another twenty minutes before Dalla dismissed them. As Kolfinna left the school grounds, she could finally breathe again. The military students were everything she could never be, and everything that would bring her downfall. That was the one thing she didn’t like about this town, the capital: there were too many academies, too many aspiring soldiers, and too many soldiers and Royal Guards. It was nauseating.

Kolfinna breathed in the aroma of buttery pastries wafting through open bakery doors, the smell of spices lining the market streets, and the sweet scent of regional flowers from the flower shops. A crush of people filled the streets, and even though she hated the feeling of so many people so close to her—close enough to maybe figure out she was a fae—shelikedthe bustling capital, despite that the Royal Guards were headquartered here and that there was a military fortress nearby. It was actually better to be in the thick of the enemy because they least expected her here. She also liked how she could disappear into the crowds of people. She was just one droplet in a large pond. Buzzing towns meant it was easier to hide away.

As if on cue, her leg throbbed, reminding her that she couldn’t seamlessly blend in anywhere. Her limp made people stare, whether she liked it or not.

Even now as she left the school grounds and entered the thick of the city, she could feel the eyes on her. They never left her.

The late afternoon spilled rays of honey across the busy streets. Soldiers in their drab gray uniforms filled tiny pockets of the streets, their power ranking—mostly white, but a few grays—stamped on their chests below the Rosain’s lion and roses emblem. Poor and middle-class folk wove through the street. The poor either had short clothes that barely fit or clothes that were a size too big—all of which had patches of mismatched cloth to cover the holes and tears. The middle class, on the other hand, wore clothes that were crisp, clean, and free of patches. Kolfinna didn’t fit in either category. She wasn’t poor, per se, but she was nowhere near middle-class.

She maneuvered the streets carefully, keeping an eye on the soldiers. Her heart rate picked up in pace as one of the soldiers glanced in her direction. She bored holes into the ground, her wavy black hair curtaining her face so they couldn’t see her. Her naturally pink eyes were brown due to the medicinal herbal tea she drank every day; it wasn’t time for the tea’s properties to run out, which would’ve rendered her eyes back to their natural color, but she still couldn’t meet the soldiers’ eyes for fear that they could see that she was different. That there was an enchanted, peculiar beauty about her. Or that her eyes showed flecks of pink when the sun waned.

Her leg continued to throb as she pushed forward. She could still feel the icy cold brush of death whispering against her body—against her leg and ankle. She quickened her pace, her feet nearly stumbling over themselves as she wove through the thickets of people. It had been one year since she confrontedhim, but every thought of the military made her body tense with trepidation. He wasn’t among them, she repeated to herself like a mantra. There was no way he was here.

She passed a rowdy tavern with patrons hooting and hollering and drinking like the sun wasn’t out. A few men hung outside it, their drunk, salacious gazes flitting over every passing woman. Kolfinna’s lips curled into a scowl as one of them glanced her way. He ogled her body with a drunk grin but froze when he met her expression. She was sure he could tell she wanted to rip his eyes out of their sockets. Her hands itched to draw blood.

Not today, she told herself, giving him an even darker look as she continued her walk.Not today.

Because Kolfinna was Inga now, and Inga didn’t get into fights. Inga controlled her anger.

She kept repeating that in her mind as she walked to the outskirts of town. The throng of people thinned until she was at the edge of the city, where there were open dirt roads lined with shrubbery and silver birch trees marked the entrance of the woods.

The cool air of the woods breathed life into her pores, and her fingers twitched to call forth her mana and warp the plants beneath her feet, to draw them up to their full height or twist them to create a canopy. It didn’t matter what. She just had to dosomethingwith it. But she pushed down the feeling and went deeper into the woods. It wasn’t until the sun dipped along the horizon that she stopped and sat on the leafy ground.

Every day after work, she liked to relax in nature, whether it was the woods or a tiny patch of grass in the city alleys. She wasn’t sure if it was a fae thing or something only she did, but nature had a calming effect on her. It was like a cleansing ritual, washing away her stress until she felt like she could finally breathe. Because only these trees, this grass, and these bushes understood who she was and accepted her.

Kolfinna massaged her right shin slowly. Her foot ached and sent pangs up her leg. It didn’t usually hurt unless she walked on it for too long or was on her feet all day, which was every working day. Her fingers ran over the muscles of her thigh, calf, and then her ankle. She hated howhehad marred her body. She could still feel the icy grips of his magic when it had violently latched onto her leg and shattered it. It didn’t set correctly and now she was stuck with a permanent limp.

A distant owl hoot brought her back to reality. Back to the canopy of trees surrounding her, the luscious greenery, and the humid air sticking to her skin. Kolfinna lay on the bumpy, leaf-ridden ground and breathed in the scent of damp moss and wildflowers. She closed her eyes and dug her fingers into the grass and soil, relishing the pulsating life at her fingertips. She breathed in the life force. She so badly wanted to release her mana, the thrumming energy nestled inside every living creature, and turn it into magic. She wanted to use her magic and make the trees dance and drop their leaves over her like a waterfall, and then make the grass grow as thick as a cushion so she could sleep.

Katla’s image was burned in the back of her mind. Her distinctive round nose, plump lips, and expressive eyebrows that wiggled in different forms depending on her emotion. Kolfinna pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes. Her sister would’ve been alive if Kolfinna had been able to use her powers properly. If she hadn’t lost control.

2

Kolfinna had chosenthe most inconspicuous apartment she could find. It was tiny, dingy, and, best of all, full of the poorest, roughest group of scowl-faced individuals. It was the type of place where whole families jammed into a single-roomed apartment. Noise traveled through the thin walls like it was everyone’s business. It was always loud during the day, but eerily silent during the night. As if everyone had something to do with the underworld nightlife. No one asked about the other, and so no one bothered her.It was perfect.

Her apartment had no furniture whatsoever. Every night, she slept on a pile of blankets, the hardwood floor always pressing against her rigid body. She didn’t have anything to call her own except the clothes on her back. She didn’t allow herself to become attached to many things. She had to travel lightly, especially since she hopped from city to city every few months.

Kolfinna inhaled the steam from the tea cup. Brownish liquid swirled in the chipped ceramic cup; it was uncomfortably hot against her fingers, but Kolfinna preferred discomfort. It was a reminder that she couldn’t ever be idle.

Every morning and night she had a cup of hot “weedy” tea with three spoonfuls of honey. The bitter concoction was made with equal parts of dandelions, crabgrass, and creeping thistle; to humans, it was just an array of weeds, but to the fae, it was invaluable. It concealed their true eye color into a muddy brown for around twelve hours. She wouldn’t have been able to survive among humans if it wasn’t for the tea; it was an old recipe passed down from fae to fae. A secret well-kept from humans.

Kolfinna sipped her morning tea slowly. It warmed her throat and although it was hard to swallow, she continued drinking the dark substance. Katla used to drink tea with buttered bread. She would dunk it in her cup until the bread absorbed the tea, then chomp on it wetly. It grossed Kolfinna out whenever she did it, but she now longed for those quick morning breakfasts they had shared. Now, she ate breakfast alone. Always alone.

She reached for her woven basket and flipped the lid open, only to find a half-eaten loaf of crusty bread and a few dried apricots. Groaning softly, she pushed the basket away from her. She would have to drop by the market and grab a meal or two this afternoon. She hated grocery shopping; hated the way people stared at her and asked questions. Kolfinna wasn’t beautiful, per se, but she had the effect all fae had on humans: they were drawn to her for some reason. They themselves probably didn’t understand it.

She wasn’t like Katla, who had perfectly encompassed all beauty standards and made people gawk at her. Katla, with her thin frame, wide smile, and dazzling green eyes, fit in wherever she went. She had been blessed in every manner: conventional beauty that didn’t make one wonder if her attraction was due to fae blood, green eyes that were brighter and more vivid than a human’s, but didn’t stir suspicion, and an infectious, kind personality. Kolfinna was the exact opposite. In fact, it always surprised everyone to find out they were siblings. That was how much they didn’t look alike; if she didn’t know any better, she’d say they weren’t related at all. Kolfinna was homely, chubby, awkward, and curt to the point of rudeness. She couldn’t draw the same attention. She had to remain hidden, or people would realize she wasn’t normal.

Kolfinna scarfed the contents of the basket and laid on her pile of blankets. She liked the busy city life, but she’d stayed here for too long. It was time for a change. Jofurr had asked her to stay for dinner yesterday. That was the first step. Next, he would figure out who she was and send her straight to the Hunter’s Association. That was always how it played in her head. It had never happened before, but she had some close calls. The last town she was in, her coworker had noted how suspiciously pretty she was despite her features being boring. Another had pointed out her eye color never looked the same—a side effect from the weedy tea wearing off. And once, a young passing boy had said she smelled like nature, like moss and roses and rainwater. She left each of those places the very same day.

Where should she go this time? Maybe somewhere rural? She usually stuck to cities, since it was easier to blend into the crowd, but the rural area had its pros and cons. Cons were that they were more superstitious and wary of newcomers. Pros were that even if she was caught, she could probably defeat whichever officers were there, since the stronger officers—whether the military or Royal Guards—were stationed in busier cities.

An abrupt knock broke her from her reverie. Her body froze on instinct, her eyes darting to the door and then to the window.No oneknocked on her door. The people in the apartment kept to themselves. So who was it?

She quietly placed the teacup on the floor and sprang to her feet, keeping one eye on the door and another on the window as she slunk toward it.

“Who is it?” She glanced out her window at the alleyway. Two men peered inside the windows on the lower level. Their uniforms were a blur of white and silver, with a shocking red cape. Kolfinna fell to the floor as one of them glanced up. Her stomach dropped—why in the world were theRoyal Guardshere?

“We’ve come to ask a few questions,” came a deep reply from the door.

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