1. Odette

odette

. . .

As I settle onto the cool, dewy grass, I glance at my friend, Radu Stormhorn, a Minotaur, sitting opposite me. The early morning mist hangs low, shrouding the ancient oaks of Mystic Grove in ghostly veils, but our tiny space glimmers with the light of woodland fairies who have come to witness this strange occurrence. Despite his massive form and the intimidating spread of his curled horns, Radu's eyes hold a gentle curiosity that belies his fierce appearance.

"Close your eyes," I instruct, my voice soft but clear in the quiet of the dawn. "Focus on the rise and fall of your breath. Feel the life within you and around you. No one is here to judge or mock you, Radu."

Radu nods, his heavy brow furrowing slightly as he shuts his eyes. His colossal chest rises and falls with each deliberate breath, and for a moment, I admire his commitment to learning something so foreign to his nature. He has his reasons, and I suspect it concerns Nyssa, the banished demon-witch he's recently befriended.

"The key to meditation is to acknowledge your thoughts, but not to engage with them," I continue, watching his face for signs of struggle or confusion. "Imagine them as leaves floating down a stream. See them, acknowledge them, but let them drift by."

A deep rumble echoes from Radu's throat, almost like a growl, but his voice is surprisingly calm when he speaks. "I always thought meditation was for elves and witches, not for creatures like me." His comment doesn't surprise me. It took weeks to convince him to give this practice a try.

"You'd be surprised." I smile, proud of him for taking this step. "Meditation practice doesn't belong to any one kind of creature. We all crave solace and peace of mind."

Radu's nostrils flare slightly as he takes a deep breath, seemingly trying to absorb the essence of my words. "It's… difficult," he admits. "My thoughts are loud—like thundering hooves across the plains."

"That's perfectly normal," I reassure Radu. "It's all part of the process. I promise that with practice, you'll learn how to quiet those hooves."

We sit in silence for several minutes, the only sound coming from the chirping of birds and Radu's rhythmic breathing. Slowly, the tension in his shoulders begins to ease, and his face softens.

"How do you feel?" I finally ask as the sun begins its climb into the sky, casting a golden glow through the trees.

Radu opens his eyes, which seem clearer—as if a fog has lifted from them. He looks around as if seeing the world for the first time. "It's strange…" He pauses, searching for the right words. "I feel still. Calm. As if the world has slowed its rotation."

"Beautifully put," I say with a nod. "That stillness is your inner strength, always there when needed."

As we rise from our seated positions, stretching out stiff limbs, Radu extends a hand toward me, an unspoken thank you etched into his gesture.

"Shall I return tomorrow?" Radu asks, his typically shy demeanor almost brimming with confidence.

"I'd like that very much. But don't forget to practice on your own. At least give it a try." After we say our goodbyes, Radu gives me a shy wave and walks toward his home in the Phantom Peaks.

With only the fairies for company, I walk through the woods toward my home and place of business, my path dotted with sunlight filtering through falling leaves—a visible reminder that colder days are coming. The stress of our otherworldly holiday season could bring more potential customers to my new full-service spa, the first of its kind in our supernatural haven.

As I reach the serene cobblestone pathway leading to the front door of Sorcery & Serenity, my passion project, I admire the enchanted moss I recently planted between the stones, infused with a calming spell I hope will inspire a more positive attitude before patrons grace my halls. I step back to admire my creation before I reach the intricately carved double doors. I'm infinitely proud of it. It results from years of planning and listening to naysayers who swore this would never work unless I applied strict rules for my patrons. But that was never part of the plan.

This endeavor isn't entirely altruistic. Eight years ago, I crossed our world's boundaries into a human one, a place as foreign to us as ours is to them. My sister, Queen Isolde, tasked me with the sacred job of raising her youngest daughter, Amara, hoping to keep her far away from her vampire mate, Attila Bloodworth. Isolde knew they would eventually find one another, but she wanted to give her daughter a chance to grow up before she succumbed to the influence of vampires.

When my work was done, I found it challenging to settle into my old life surrounded by the opulence and intrigue of my sister's castle. Seeking a quiet place to live, I chose to come here to Mystic Grove, a small village on the edge of the Whispering Woods, long in the shadow of both Ravenwood, home to vampires, and Shadowhaven, the protected sanctuary of my sister's coven.

Although Mystic Grove is the ancestral home of the fairies, they have always welcomed all peaceful beings determined to live quiet lives. Like our village, Sorcery & Serenity is inclusive and inviting, open to all the supernatural clientele that roam through the hidden threads of our world. Every detail has been meticulously planned to cater to a unique array of needs—be it the light-averse vampires or the moon-touched werewolves.

The reception area is dimly lit with floating candles that give off just enough glow for vampires to feel comfortable, yet can be snuffed out with a mere thought for those preferring utter darkness. Behind the mahogany desk, equipped with an ancient ledger bound in dragon skin, stands my niece, Lavinia, daughter of Queen Isolde and a formidable witch of her own accord. Like me, her heritage grants her an ageless grace and an innate understanding of magical creatures, making her the perfect front-of-house. She's an invaluable asset to me. With only two weeks on the job, she's already implemented more than a dozen changes to make this place run more efficiently.

We're not typically at work this early. The witching hour is always my busiest time and often gets so out of hand that I'm not in bed until 2:00 or 3:00 a.m. Radu Stormhorn was a special case, and his enthusiasm to make an early start made me drag myself out of my comfortable bed earlier than usual. It was worth it. He's a good friend and deserves to calm the noise in his head.

With a full hour remaining before we open our doors for the day, I take advantage of my extra time and personally complete this week's inspection of the facilities. We've only been in business for three months, but I take pride in everything running smoothly. I'm determined to make this experiment work.

After leaving the lobby, I venture toward the east wing, where I visit the thermal suite, specifically designed to withstand extreme temperatures and accommodate them. Dragon shifters often lament the lack of spaces where they can bask in heat reminiscent of their ancient fiery caves. Here, they can unwind within walls enchanted to absorb excessive heat without endangering the structural integrity of the building. To my surprise, we've had multiple creatures take advantage of this suite, including djinns and phoenixes.

Farther down the corridor, I've installed a series of moonlight therapy rooms for our Lycan friends who venture from Silverfang Hollow to enjoy our services. The ceilings are embedded with crystals that capture natural moonlight and amplify it, creating an environment where wolf shifters can find solace or embrace their transformations in peace and safety. We've received rave reviews.

For our demonic clients, who enjoy complaining about the sanctified nature of most modern amenities, I've commissioned a series of basalt and obsidian pools filled with naturally sulfurous water from underground springs said to be as old as hell. I think it's a comforting reminder of home, with none of the peril associated with the infernal realms.

The last suite in the east wing is nestled at the far end of the spa amidst a grove of ancient trees—which whisper secrets only to those who know how to listen—a retreat space designed for witches and wizards in need of solitude and silence. Here, they can meditate or conjure new spells surrounded by protective runes and uninterrupted by the outside world. Even the most powerful beings in the otherworld need a safe space to create.

I walk past each room, ensuring everything is set perfectly for today's clients. Although my idea seemed outlandish at first —a spa for monsters—it has quickly become one of the fastest-growing businesses in Mystic Grove. When I reach the front, I tidy up the welcome packets containing silverweed lotions and moonflower teas and place them next to neatly folded towels enchanted to always feel cool. The little things have given us an impeccable reputation for customer service.

Sorcery & Serenity was never meant to be a complex business venture. It's a bridge between worlds and species—where beings from all corners of darkness and light can shed their fears and prejudices like humans shed clothes. Here, they are guests in need of respite from their eternal struggles. As I watch through the gossamer curtains draping the front windows, shadowed and ethereal figures begin arriving. A vampire donning a pair of sunglasses, a demon whose eyes flicker like dying embers, and a water nymph walking with a yoga mat under her arm step through the front door, ready to start their days with a desire to reset and relax. After all, even monsters need to unwind.