The Faerie’s Vow

Liora stood by the small bed where her brother lay, watching the slow, uneven rise and fall of his chest. The room was thick with the scent of sickness, damp wood, and dried herbs—none of which had made a difference. Finn was slipping away, and she was running out of time. She had tried everything. The finest healers in the village had come and gone, offering nothing but condolences and empty promises. No herb, potion, or prayer had slowed the mysterious illness eating away at Finn's strength. Liora had even sought out the more questionable remedies, traveling to distant towns and backwater apothecaries. All of it had led her here—standing at the edge of a decision she never thought she'd make. She brushed a damp lock of hair from Finn’s forehead. His skin was cool to the touch, his breath shallow. It felt like holding onto the last embers of a fire just before they were extinguished. The thought alone twisted in her gut. In the corner of the room, sitting in a worn chair and nursing a mug of bitter tea, was Old Alys. The woman had been watching Liora with eyes too sharp for someone her age. Her fingers, gnarled with age, curled around the mug like claws, and her lips, thin and cracked, had barely moved since she’d arrived. “You’re not ready,” Alys finally muttered, her voice like gravel scraping against stone. “No one ever is. But sometimes the choice ain’t about readiness.” Liora clenched her fists at her sides. She’d been avoiding this—avoiding the thought that had circled her mind for days now. The thought that had brought her to Alys in the first place. The faerie realm. No one in their right mind would willingly seek the fae. Their magic was more dangerous than any illness, more deceptive than any charm. But Liora was past the point of caring about right or wrong. If there was even the slimmest chance that fae magic could save Finn, then she would take it. “I don’t have a choice,” Liora said, her voice barely above a whisper. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from her brother. His breath rattled in his chest, fragile, like a bird's wing caught in a storm. “If there's any way to save him, I have to try.” Alys let out a low hum, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. She leaned forward, setting her mug down on the table with a dull thud. “You know what it means, child. The fae don't give anything for free.” “I know,” Liora whispered. The weight of those words was already heavy on her heart. The fae were notorious for their bargains—deals that twisted and turned in ways you couldn’t foresee. Liora wasn’t a fool. But this was her brother. She couldn’t just let him fade away, not when there was still something—anything—she could do. Alys rose from her chair, her joints creaking like old floorboards. From the folds of her shawl, she pulled out a small, battered book. The cover was worn, the edges frayed, and the title was written in a language Liora didn’t recognize. The moment it was revealed, the air in the room seemed to thicken, the shadows at the corners deepening as if the very presence of the book was unsettling the world around it. Liora swallowed hard, her eyes locked on the book. She felt the pull of it before she even knew what it was—something ancient, something powerful. It was the key to everything, and the warning of everything that could go wrong. “This,” Alys said, her voice lower now, almost reverent, “will lead you to them. The fae realm. But once you step through their door, there’s no coming back the same.” Liora’s heart pounded in her chest. Her fingers twitched, aching to take the book, to hold it, to feel that magic against her skin. But her fear held her back for just a moment longer. “Is there really no other way?” she asked, her voice cracking. She already knew the answer, but she needed to hear it one last time before she plunged headfirst into the unknown. Alys’s eyes softened just a fraction. “If there was, I’d have given it to you, Liora. But you’ve tried everything. And I don’t give out this kind of help lightly.” The words hung in the air, a final nail in the coffin of Liora’s hesitation. She couldn’t let Finn die. If this was the price she had to pay, she would pay it, no matter the cost. With a deep breath, Liora stepped forward and took the book from Alys’s hands. The moment her fingers touched the rough cover, a strange, cold sensation surged through her, like the chill of a winter wind sneaking beneath her skin. The book pulsed, as if it was alive, waiting for her to open it, to unleash whatever lay within. Alys watched her with that same sharp gaze. “Remember, child, the fae are not like us. Their rules are different. Their promises are dangerous. But they honor their deals. If you go through with this, be sure of your words, be sure of what you’re willing to lose.” Liora nodded, clutching the book tightly to her chest. “I’m ready.” The lie tasted bitter in her mouth, but it was too late to turn back now. For Finn, she would do anything. Even bargain with the fae. The fire in the hearth crackled, casting long shadows across the room as Alys nodded slowly. “Then the fae will be waiting. Pray you survive their games.” With a final glance at her brother, who lay still and pale in the bed, Liora turned and left the room, the weight of the faerie realm looming over her like a storm on the horizon. The price had been named. Now all that remained was to pay it.