The morning after blessing the well, Emma woke to shouting in the village square.
She stumbled out of bed, still tangled in sleep, and pulled on her water-dress—which had taken to simply appearing on her body when she needed it, like it knew her thoughts. Through the window, she could see people gathering, their voices raised in what sounded like alarm.
Emma ran outside, her bare feet silent on the packed earth. The crowd had formed a loose circle around something—or someone. She pushed through, using her growing reputation to make people step aside.
In the center of the circle stood a young man.
He was tall, perhaps nineteen or twenty, with dark hair that fell across his forehead and eyes the color of storm clouds—gray with hints of blue when the light caught them right. His clothes were torn and stained with travel, a worn cloak hanging from his broad shoulders. A sword hung at his hip, and he held his hands up in a gesture of peace, though his stance suggested he knew how to use that blade.
But what drew Emma's attention were his hands. They were covered in cuts and bruises, and something else—faint black lines that traced up from his fingers and disappeared under his sleeves. Like veins, but wrong. Dark.
"I mean no harm," the stranger was saying, his voice deep and steady despite being surrounded by hostile villagers. "I'm just passing through. I need water and perhaps some food, then I'll be on my way."
"We don't serve those touched by shadow," Marcus growled, his hand on his knife. "You've got the mark on you, boy. We can see it."
The stranger's jaw tightened. "I'm not corrupted. I've been fighting the Shadow King's creatures for months. Sometimes their poison gets in you. But I'm still me."
"That's what they all say," someone muttered from the crowd.
Emma stepped forward before she could think better of it. "Wait."
Every eye turned to her. The stranger's gaze locked onto Emma, and something flickered in those storm-colored eyes—surprise, recognition, hope? She couldn't quite read it.
"Lady Fairy," Gareth said, appearing at her elbow. "Be careful. Those marks—"
"I can see them." Emma moved closer to the stranger, studying him. Up close, he was even more striking—sharp features that would have been handsome if they weren't drawn tight with exhaustion and pain. A scar cut through his left eyebrow. His eyes held a haunted quality that Emma recognized from her own reflection.
She reached out with her water-sense, the way Elder Thorne had taught her. The stranger stiffened but didn't pull away. Emma could feel something in him—a darkness, yes, but it was surface-level. Like an infection that hadn't spread to vital organs yet. Beneath it, his life force burned clear and strong.
"He's telling the truth," Emma said, pulling back. "The corruption hasn't taken root. It's just... residue."
"You're certain?" Marcus asked skeptically.
"No," Emma admitted. "I'm new at this. But I think he deserves a chance to prove himself before we drive him away."
The stranger's expression softened slightly. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet. I'm also going to insist you let our healer look at those marks." Emma turned to the crowd. "Someone get Mara. And Finn, can you bring water from the well? The blessed water."
As the crowd began to disperse, still muttering suspiciously, the stranger lowered his hands. "You're really her. The Lake Fairy. I thought the stories were just... stories."
"Yeah, well. Join the club." Emma gestured toward Mara's healing house. "Come on. Let's see if we can clean that corruption out of you before it gets worse."
"I don't even know your name," he said, falling into step beside her.
"Emma. Emma Thorne."
"Kael." He paused. "Just Kael. I don't have a family name anymore."
There was a story in those words, Emma could tell. Pain and loss. She recognized it because she carried her own.
Mara's healing house was quiet and filled with the scent of dried herbs. The healer took one look at Kael's hands and immediately set to work, muttering under her breath about foolish boys who didn't seek help soon enough.
"How did this happen?" Emma asked, watching as Mara carefully cleaned the wounds.
Kael sat on the examination table, his jaw clenched against the pain. "I was tracking a group of shadow-creatures that attacked a farmstead. Killed a family. I managed to destroy the creatures, but one of them got its claws in me before it died." He looked down at the black lines. "The corruption spreads slowly, they say. I've been trying to reach the capital, to find a mage who might be able to cure it. But..."
"But you're running out of time," Mara finished grimly.
"How long?" Emma asked.
Kael met her eyes. "A month, maybe. Before it reaches my heart. Then I'll be one of them—a puppet for the Shadow King to control."
The casual way he said it made Emma's chest hurt. This young man, barely older than her, was calmly discussing his own transformation into a monster.
"Finn," Emma called. The boy had been hovering near the door, and he rushed forward with a bucket of water from the blessed well. It still glowed faintly with that pale green light.
"What are you going to do?" Kael asked, eyeing the glowing water with a mixture of hope and apprehension.
"Honestly? I have no idea. But regular water seems to weaken shadow-corruption, and this water carries my magic. So maybe..." Emma dipped her hands into the bucket, feeling the connection to her essence that lingered in the liquid. "Maybe it'll help."
She lifted her dripping hands and placed them over Kael's, hovering just above the black lines. The water began to glow brighter, responding to her will. Emma closed her eyes and concentrated, imagining the corruption as a stain that needed to be washed away, her magic as the cleanser.
Kael gasped. Emma's eyes snapped open to see the black lines writhing under his skin, as if trying to escape her magic. The blessed water dripped from her hands onto his, and where it touched, the darkness began to fade.
"It's working," Mara breathed.
Emma pushed harder, pouring more of her will into the water. The corruption fought back—she could feel it, a wrongness that wanted to spread, to consume. But her magic was stronger. Life over death. Light over shadow.
The black lines retreated inch by inch, crawling back toward the original wounds. When they were concentrated in the cuts themselves, Emma gestured sharply. The water leapt from the bucket, wrapping around Kael's hands like liquid bandages.
"This might hurt," Emma warned.
"More than it already does?" Kael tried to smile, but it came out as a grimace.
The water began to glow intensely, almost blindingly bright. Kael's breath came in sharp gasps, his whole body going rigid. Emma held the magic steady, refusing to let up even as she felt the drain on her own strength. The corruption was being burned away, purified, broken down into nothing.
Finally, after what felt like hours but was probably only minutes, the light faded. The water fell away from Kael's hands, splashing to the floor.
His skin was clean. Pink and new like a baby's, but unmarked. No black lines. No corruption.
Kael stared at his hands in disbelief. He flexed his fingers, turned them over, examined every inch. "It's gone. It's actually gone."
"How do you feel?" Mara asked, immediately checking his pulse, looking into his eyes.
"Tired. Weak. But... clean. Like I've been holding my breath for months and can finally breathe again." He looked up at Emma, and the gratitude in his eyes was almost painful to see. "You saved my life."
Emma swayed slightly, exhausted from the magical effort. Mara immediately pushed her into a chair.
"You need to rest," the healer scolded. "Both of you. Kael, you're staying here tonight. Emma, back to bed with you."
"I'm fine," Emma protested, even as black spots danced in her vision.
"You're about to pass out," Mara said firmly. "Don't make me sedate you."
Kael stood, testing his legs. "She's right. You should rest. You've done more than enough." He paused, then added softly, "More than anyone else would have. Most people would have driven me away. Or killed me to be safe."
"Well, I'm not most people." Emma managed a tired smile. "Apparently I'm the Lake Fairy. We have to be annoyingly merciful and hopeful and stuff."
For the first time, Kael laughed. It transformed his face, made him look younger, less haunted. "Is that in the job description?"
"Must be. I'm making this up as I go."
As Mara fussed over them both, insisting on food and rest, Emma found herself watching Kael. There was something about him—a strength tempered by loss, a determination that hadn't broken despite everything he'd endured. He'd been willing to face becoming a monster alone rather than risk infecting others.
And when he caught her looking and offered a small, genuine smile, Emma felt something flutter in her chest that had nothing to do with magic.
Oh no, she thought. This is complicated.
But as Mara finally succeeded in herding them both toward their respective resting places, Emma couldn't quite make herself regret it.