William moved through the crowded marketplace, hoping his glamour charm would keep his identity hidden. To everyone else, he looked like a teenage boy with brown curls, soft brown eyes, and a face dotted with acne. Glamour couldn't change his height, so youthful guises were safest — people never looked twice at a short, awkward teenager.
The market pressed in on him. Spices, sweat, whispers of deals, and the faint copper tang of magic filled the air.
Word must have gotten out about the Shadow Demons, he thought grimly. Nothing fuels trade like the end of the world.
He missed the quiet days — opening his little shop, chatting with Bai, drinking tea instead of running from death and memory.
No time to reminisce, old man. You have a job to do.
He pushed toward the back of the market, where the tarps grew darker and the air thicker. The deeper you went, the rarer — and more dangerous — the wares. Finally, he stood before a leaning tent patched with rough burlap and a single stitched crescent moon in its corner.
Violet's Moon Cottage.
William's chest tightened. They hadn't parted well. He pulled the glamour charm from his pocket and whispered, "Reveal."
The illusion peeled away, and the old dwarf stood in the flesh — grayer, heavier, but unmistakably himself. He knew better than to face Violet in disguise.
The crescent moon glimmered faintly as he touched the flap. If Violet still bore her grudge, he'd be vaporized before taking a step.
Here goes nothing.
He ducked through — and exhaled when warmth, not annihilation, met him. The shop glowed with lamplight and power. Crystals, orbs, and trinkets filled every shelf. Carved beams and moss flooring gave the place an organic beauty that smelled of cedar and spice. Gargoyle faces peered down from the curved ceiling, each with a distinct Elven or Fae expression.
William removed his shoes before stepping fully in. Violet's home deserved respect, even from those she might hate.
This was no simple curio stall. In Oakwood, Violet's shop was the place for the dangerous and divine — charms, bone fetishes, cursed stones, forbidden tomes. If she didn't sell it, she knew who did. The air pulsed with the Veil's power, and William's skin prickled from the magic saturation. He hadn't crossed back here in a century.
He felt it instantly: he didn't belong anymore.
But if he didn't find a homestead stone, his family — his new family — wouldn't survive.
He wandered the tables, noting the subtle shimmer of nightfall through the enchanted windows. Time moved opposite here. Mortal daylight meant Oakwood night.
Made it before the lockout spell, he thought, climbing the creaky stairs toward the rooms above.
---
Red Cap Burrow — 11:35 p.m.
Gwen woke in a small underground burrow, head pounding, body sore. A single candle flickered nearby.
The old Red Cap — her unlikely savior — slept in a hammock, bundled under a sheepskin blanket. He looked frail, almost gentle in sleep.
She slipped quietly from her blanket, added wood to the dying fire, and stepped out into the crisp night air. It smelled of moss and rain. She stretched, savoring the first deep breath since the darkness.
{He could've hurt me a dozen times by now and didn't.}
Her mother's stories echoed — Red Caps who murdered travelers for sport — but this one had nursed her wounds and kept her safe.
"I need to find Jacob," she whispered. "Please, let him be okay."
The burrow door creaked, and the Red Cap joined her, blanket still wrapped around his shoulders, pipe glowing faintly.
"Good to see you up, child," he said, tamping his tobacco. "Feared you'd lost your way for good."
"My way back?" she asked.
"In the morning, I'll take you to a friend — name's Hildwulf. She can help sort this out, maybe find your fellow too." He puffed, releasing soft rings of smoke that smelled faintly of vanilla.
"Why are you helping me?" Gwen asked softly. "I was told your kind murder travelers for fun."
Hildwulf sighed, watching the moon through the trees. "Pay no mind to tales tonight. My kin are cruel, aye, but not all of us. Now get some sleep — we leave at first light."
Gwen leaned down and hugged him. "Thank you, Hildwulf."
He froze, grumbling, "Great. Another one…" but followed her back inside.
---
Violet's Moon Cottage — 11:45 p.m.
William perched on a stool, staring at the spiral staircase leading to Violet's quarters. His palms were slick with sweat.
What to do, what to do…
Finally, he knocked.
"Come in, William," came her smooth, familiar voice.
He opened the door to the scent of honey and lavender. Moonlight framed Violet in gold. Her gray skin shimmered faintly, her white eyes fixed on him, and her long violet hair cascaded down her back. She was barefoot, wearing a sheer golden gown that caught the light like water.
"I wondered when I'd see you again," she purred.
Shit.
"Violet," he said quickly. "I need your help. A homestead stone."
"Oh, straight to business?" she teased. "How… disappointing."
"Predictable," William corrected.
She smiled, the corners of her lips curling. "Predictable, yes."
She waved a hand, her gown flashing into a green tunic, leather riding pants, and a black frock coat. "Better?"
"No," he said. "But more appropriate."
"After all these years you show up, asking favors. You in some serious trouble, William?"
"Yes," he said simply. "Very serious. And not much time."
Her teasing faded. "Why should I help you? What are you hiding from?" She crouched to meet his eyes, her expression suddenly sharp.
"Shadow Demons," he said quietly.
The words drained the color from her face. "You're serious?"
"Extremely."
"So the rumors are true?" she whispered. "They've crossed the mortal realm?"
"What rumors, V?"
She exhaled slowly. "Someone's gathering the pieces of the Mainz Mirror — Maria Sophia's Mirror. The real one."
William blinked. "The Snow White mirror?"
"The one and only. They're also hoarding dark ring crystals. And… I've heard whispers the Komodo King's soldiers are moving again. Hunting something."
William's stomach sank. "They're more than rumors," he said. "The demons are real, and someone's pulling the strings."
Violet studied him carefully, then softened. "When did you last sleep, old fool? It'll take me six hours to make your stone. Eat. Rest here."
He nodded gratefully. "Thank you, V."
---
Tuesday, 7 a.m. — Hildwulf's Burrow
Hildwulf packed a small leather bag — charms, herbs, a few live fairies trapped in jars, tools for trading information. He glanced outside to find Gwen sitting on a stump in the morning sun, calm but distant. Twice he'd felt the pulse of her magic — both times under stress — yet now she radiated no power at all. A mystery for another time.
"Ready to go?" he asked, holding out a hand.
She hesitated, then took it.
In a flash, they blinked through space — to the walls of Eagle River Castle, and then again to a small wooden cabin. The motion crushed her stomach. Gwen doubled over and vomited until she could barely breathe.
"Sorry," said Hildwulf. "Blink travel's rough your first time. Chew this."
He handed her a root — peppermint and ginger fizzing across her tongue as her nausea eased.
---
Tuesday, 7:15 a.m. — Violet's Moon Cottage
William woke to morning light streaming through the curtains. He hadn't slept this soundly in a century.
New clothes waited neatly at the foot of the bed — Violet's doing.
He examined them one by one: enchanted cargo pants with tenfold storage and strength runes; a red and black flannel that balanced warmth and coolness, buoyancy and dryness; soft black boots that promised speed and grip. Once he dressed, the enchantment sealed — a protective armor against most mortal weapons.
He admired himself briefly in the mirror — not out of vanity, but memory.
Still a Red Cap after all these years.
Downstairs, Violet worked at her bench, sleeves rolled up. "Almost done," she said without looking up.
"Thank you, V. I didn't expect such kindness after… how we left things."
She smiled sadly. "For a few lifetimes I wanted to kill you. But age humbles us. You needed more than I gave you back then."
She set the finished stone on the table, its heart glowing faintly blue. Then she stepped forward and hugged him — and he felt the weight of regret in her touch.
"HILDYARD!" a voice bellowed.
Violet's head snapped up.
William froze. The name — his real name — hung heavy in the air like a spell breaking.
Hildwulf stood in the doorway, Gwen just behind him.
William's heart dropped.
---
End Chapter 19