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Dranian Evelry and the Moment His Life was Ruined Forever

As the coolness of fall brushed in through the magical sliding doors of the human market where hefty basins of food displayed a variety of fruits, vegetables, and roots, a former fae assassin pushed his metal basket on wheels down an aisle that was much too narrow. The low hum of human chatter flitted through the indoor market. It seemed everyone from the local villages had come to purchase groceries today, and every single one of them had come in pairs.

Well, not every single one. Not him.

Dranian let an old forbidden curse of the North Corner of Ever slip off his tongue when his wretched arm bumped a pumpkin from its barrel. The fruit tipped off the ledge and smashed to the floor, flinging stringy and seedy bits in all directions and slapping over Dranian's new shoes. A wet clump of bright orange pumpkin vomit clawed over the ground. The fruit's shell had split into five pieces, all scattering toward other customers and making humans leap back in horror.

Dranian stared at the rebellious gourd for a moment. He had always been taught that pumpkins contained magic. He'd heard stories of them being a method of transportation in the Ever Corners, once enchanted. But it seemed this pumpkin was nothing of the magical sort since it had not caught itself before it had exploded or helped Dranian out whatsoever.

"Selfish faeborn fruit," he muttered as he dropped to clean up the stringy and seedy bits before the humans could start stepping on them and dragging the pumpkin's guts around the market on their feet. He tried to reach with both arms first, but a wave of tedious pain launched through his useless left bicep, and he winced.

"It's broken," a nearby fool stated.

A bead of warmth fell into Dranian's stomach. "My arm is not broken!" he snapped at the nosy human. "It was only stabbed!"

The pause that followed was both long and awkward. Dranian glanced over his shoulder to see a wide-eyed male standing there with an equally wide-eyed female beside him. The male cleared his throat. "I was talking about the pumpkin," he clarified, nodding toward the mess.

Dranian's gaze shot back to the cracked fruit on the floor as that settled in.

With a quiet growl, he hugged his useless arm to himself and began cleaning the mess with his other one, picking up a fistful of the orange mush with his bare hand. He stood, searching the market for a waste barrel, but there wasn't a single barrel in sight.

So, there he was. Standing in the exact middle of the market with his hands full of slimy strings and seeds with nowhere to put it.

He grunted as he set the mushy mound into his metal basket on wheels, careful not to stain the rest of his food and provisions. Once the worst of the orange sludge was picked up, Dranian pushed his metal basket to the human grocery servants to pay, ready to avoid the market for a while after this.

The servant at the coin table eyed Dranian's moist hands as the fairy reached for his leather coin purse and pulled out a few bills. Dranian thought to apologize for the wet, sticky fingerprints as he handed the cash over, but he kept his mouth shut, his face solemn. What was the point in speaking up to apologize when words alone could not dry the bills?

The human servant was kind enough to place the box of cereal, the jug of cold beast milk, the three ripe pears, and the small goblet of tasty looking ice cream into a bag for him. Dranian didn't dare mention to the human that he'd also run out of pasta sauce, beast meat, and, well, pasta. He'd been craving "spaghetti" for a while but trying to carry two heavy bags for the lengthy walk back to his apartment was out of the question. Having the weight of beast milk in one hand for the entire journey was enough.

He left the market with his one bag of groceries, avoiding chariots on wheels roaming the parking lot as he headed toward the path of perfectly square stepping stones that would take him home.

His phone rang. Dranian looked down at his pocket for a moment as he contemplated. Finally, he ventured out of the way of passing people and set his one bag of groceries against the wall of what appeared to be a store for small animals.

The phone was deep in his pocket, but once he managed to fish it out, he tapped the green button several times until he was sure the two-way magic was working. "Hello?" he mumbled. He glanced over at the small monsters in the shop's window; they'd rushed to the glass when they noticed he was standing there. Tiny, yippy animals with large ears. Human realm dogs.

"Are you ill?" Cress's distinct, authoritative voice came from the phone.

Dranian eyed his arm in the reflection of the animal store window. "Not at all," he said.

"Then why is Kate telling me you've decided to only come into work on weekends?" the former North Prince asked.

Dranian thought about a few things he could say. He finally settled with, "It's called part time . Humans do it all the time. It means I only work half as much."

One of the tiny dogs managed to climb onto the shop's window ledge inside. The creature began licking the life out of the glass, eyeing Dranian the entire time. The repulsive wetness of the pumpkin still blemished Dranian's fingers, and he imagined that tiny beast's drool being just as revolting on his skin.

"So, first Mor found another job, then Shayne took off on vacation for the next thousand years, and now you're invoking the human right of part time ?" Cress articulated.

Dranian offered a grunt of acknowledgement in return to imply Cress had it correct.

"Why, Dranian? Why must you leave me to bake all the cupcakes and tarts on my own?" Cress sounded exasperated. "Is it because it takes you nearly an hour by bus to get here from your faraway apartment? Do you need me to come get you and fly you over in the mornings so you don't have to pay the bus fee?" he offered, and Dranian's ever-solemn face scrunched a little.

"I wouldn't dare inconvenience you that way." Nor would he be caught dead flying through the human sky in Cress's arms.

Cress sighed. "I suppose I can't be upset since it was me who called dibs on Kate's apartment and suggested you find another place to live and all that. But we're going to have to hire some human stranger until Shayne gets back. And you know how I detest strangers." Cress seemed to be talking to himself now. "I suppose I could always convince Lily to quit her job at the human police station, too. It would be convenient to have her here more— working ."

Dranian doubted Lily would go for that, but he didn't say as much.

"When is Shayne coming back anyway?" Cress asked, seeming to remember Dranian was still there.

"He claimed he would be in the kingdom of Florida for at least two months. Probably three." Dranian's gaze fell to the square stone path. He kicked a loose pebble. The dog on the other side of the window started barking like he wanted to fetch it.

Cress sighed again. "Very well. I'll give him a few faeborn months' grace before I start calling him to complain. That seems fair."

Dranian nodded.

"I'm leaving now," Cress announced. "I'm about to touch the red button."

"I shall also," Dranian agreed. He pulled the phone from his ear and began tapping the red button until it disappeared and the painting on his phone returned to the original picture of his straight face beside Shayne's wide grin. A "selfie" Shayne had insisted upon when Dranian first got his own phone.

He slid the device into his pocket, and he crouched down to meet the tiny dog in the window eye-to-eye.

The creature was a pathetic, helpless thing. But perhaps it was slightly adorable. It flipped off the windowsill, rolled over thrice, then climbed back to its feet and leapt onto the sill all over again.

Dranian reached for his one bag of groceries and stood. He bowed to the dog trapped behind the glass to bid him farewell. Then he continued on his journey home.

There was a grunting-screeching sound in the stairwell when he reached the great castle of rooms where his apartment was. He came in by the secret code of numbers the bridge troll hiding in the bricks demanded he be given on his magical buttons—in exchange for safe passage through the doors. In the stairs, a female held a large, solid-wood chair in shaking hands, tilted up at the staircase's angle. Dranian dropped his one bag of groceries and rushed to catch the chair before it dropped. The furniture piece was a second away from escaping her clutches and taking the female all the way down the stairs with it when he got his grip.

"Oh, thank goodness," the female said, brushing a bead of sweat from her brow. "Thanks, Dranian."

Dranian glanced over, realizing it was Beth—the human who owned the entire apartment building castle. She batted her reddish lashes at him. "You totally saved me."

Dranian tried not to shake beneath the weight of the chair. He inched to adjust the wooden limbs, trying to take the brunt of it with his good arm.

"I was carrying it up to my apartment. You don't mind, do you?" Beth cast him a smile surely meant to put the taste of sweetness in the air. Her gaze flickered down to the chair in indication.

Dranian swallowed. He looked to the chair, then back at her. She was frightfully small. He could see well that if she attempted to haul a chair of such weight and size by herself again, she'd be crushed by it.

"I will deal with this for you," Dranian murmured. He inhaled deeply, counting the stairs ahead. Then he lifted, biting back his words and sounds.

By the time he got the thing to the third floor, Beth was clapping. "You're so strong!" she praised.

Dranian dragged the chair until it was right in front of her apartment door—which just happened to be right across the hall from his.

"I can take it from here!" Beth sang. "Thank you, Dranian!" She pulled out her keys.

Dranian nodded once then dug into his pocket for his own keys. He moved for his apartment, unlocked it, rushed inside, and slammed the door shut. His cry of agony came so fast, he almost released it into the hall before his door could seal it out. He grabbed hold of his injured arm and sank back against the entrance, sliding to a sitting position as his chest pumped air in and out.

"You fool," he scolded himself.

He sat there like that until he caught his breath. Then he looked around, noticing how dark the apartment was without its drapes drawn, without its lights on. With no one else in it.

He didn't realize how sleepy he was until he let himself lay back on the floor and stare up at the ceiling. There wasn't anyone around to disturb his sleep most evenings, but something inside his dreams had been stealing his energy. It had been going on for several weeks now—a thing he couldn't quite explain aloud if he might ever dare to try.

He was hearing a voice. That was the only way to describe the midnight visitor.

Dranian grunted and refused to think about the voice . The one that showed up, whispering his name in his deepest sleep. The one that kept trying to get him to let it into his mind, into his dreams. The one that sounded just familiar enough to drive him faeborn mad but still reminded him of a stranger.

He wasn't exactly having nightmares. It wasn't like what Shayne had been going through before he left on vacation. Dranian's encounters were a little different than that; a little deeper. A little more unusual.

And in every way, astoundingly annoying.

Dranian finally found it within him to pull himself off his apartment floor. He'd spent half the previous night standing in the kitchen, eating cereal to pass the time, refusing sleep so he didn't need to hear the voice any longer. His midnight choices seemed to be catching up with him now.

He tipped onto his sofa, landing face-first into the plush fabric. Before he knew it, he found slumber.

A knock on the door startled Dranian awake. He thought he'd imagined it, but when the knocking sounded again, he sprang up off the couch and went to answer.

Beth stood there, beaming. Dranian had to blink a few times to adjust his eyes to the hall lights after napping in his dark apartment. He spotted one grocery bag in Beth's grip. The bottom was damp, and something gooey was dripping from it. Beth followed his gaze to the mess.

"Oh, some idiot left this bag of groceries in the bottom of the stairwell," she explained with a roll of her eyes. "Now there's a huge puddle of melted ice cream and the whole apartment entrance stinks like old milk."

Dranian swallowed and glanced off at a nonexistent scuff on the doorframe. "How horrid of them to do such a thing," he mumbled, scratching the back of his head.

"Anyway, someone responded to your ad!" Beth exclaimed.

Dranian blinked another few times as he tried to figure out what she was talking about.

"You know, the ad you asked me to put in the paper to find you a roommate?" She reached into his apartment and knocked her knuckles off his head like he was daft. Then she laughed. "How did you already forget?"

Ah. The advertisement. The one Beth had suggested Dranian create after Dranian had informed her he could no longer afford the rent. The one he'd been forced to put in the paper when Shayne left for the kingdom of Florida instead of splitting the cost of a box of space with Dranian like he'd promised.

It would be nice to finally be able to pay the rent on time again.

Dranian stood a little straighter. "I shall meet the fellow right away and decide if he's worthy," he promised. "Where is he? "

"Oh, I already met him! I hope that's okay!" Beth flung a strand of her orange-red hair over her shoulder. "I knocked earlier, but you didn't answer so I thought you were out. I figured I'd just do the interview for you. In fact," she reached around and pulled a folded paper from her back pocket, "I already got him to sign the contract! He's locked in, Dranian!" She shot him a wide, conniving smile.

Dranian wondered if he should protest. He wasn't sure how he felt about bringing someone into his space he hadn't even met for a single second. But perhaps it was for the best since he would have picked the fellow apart and found a flaw with just about anyone that wasn't a wide-smiling, white-haired, barefoot assassin.

"In fact, he's ready to move in today. He's going to be here in like five minutes," Beth said, handing the contract over. Dranian unfolded the paper and scanned it. It looked like a binding law of the utmost stability. If he was the smiling type, he might have cast Beth one of gratefulness for her cunning. Now he had enough coin to pay his rent, and the fool who'd signed the contract couldn't get out of it, even if he did learn of what Dranian was or grow intimidated by Dranian's strength and magic.

"You still have to sign it to make it official. Do you want me to wait with you until he gets here?" Beth offered. "I should go over the apartment rules with him anyway."

Dranian shrugged and grabbed a pen from the end table by the door. He signed the contract in his most elegant script and folded it, sealing the brilliance away and tucking it into his own back pocket for safe keeping. He reached over to flick on the light so his new roommate wouldn't trip while he carried in all his human belongings.

"You may wait with me if you'd like," Dranian invited. He took a step back so Beth could enter. Beth smiled sweetly and walked in, taking a look around the apartment like she was seeing his place for the first time, even though she owned it and had likely seen it dozens of times over the years.

"What's the fellow's name?" Dranian asked.

"I forget. It's on the contract though," she said, opening the curtains. The apartment filled with light as Dranian pulled out the contract again. He hadn't thought to check the name before. "Don't worry, he's not a weirdo or anything. He was super nice to me, and he's actually kind of gorgeous. Now there'll be three good-looking redheads living on our floor." She winked to assure him she'd included him in that count. Then she laughed at herself as Dranian's gaze fell on the scribbled name at the bottom of the contract. It was written so messily that it took him a few tries to make out the letters. He could have sworn the fellow's first name was spelled: L-U-C.

There was a shuffle in the doorway, and Beth yelled, "You're here!"

But Dranian was still staring at that unbreakable, ever-binding contract. Staring at the decoded letters that spelled something that must have been incorrect. His faeborn eyes were reading crooked. He was sure it couldn't possibly be what he thought —

"Oh dear." A dangerously familiar, mystically alluring voice filled the apartment, sending a trail of goosebumps over Dranian's arms. The words were followed by a cold, spiteful chuckle. "I never agreed to live with a guard dog."

Dranian dragged his gaze up from the contract slowly. He beheld the fellow standing in the doorway of his apartment looking back at him. The fool's metallic-red hair, heart-shaped lips, and unsettlingly broad smile were poison in Dranian's eyes. Though the bloke stood clearly before him, Dranian was sure he was imagining it.

Dranian lowered the contract to his side, clenching it so hard it transformed into a crumpled mess in his grip. His gaze darted to the pen he'd set on the end table. Was it too late? Did he really sign the contract? Was this a nightmare; was he still asleep on the couch?

Dranian tore the crumpled paper open again to see the line where his signature was supposed to go. He bit his mouth shut to keep in a wild, faeborn curse.

No.

This had to be a dream.

That being standing in the doorway was no human roommate. He was a Shadow. A nine tailed fox. A fairy . And not just any fairy…

He was the very creature who'd stolen Dranian's arm.

The paper slipped from Dranian's fingers and did a slow dance as it descended to the floor, faceup, revealing his large, handwritten signature for every soul in the apartment to see.

What in the name of the sky deities had he done?