Read The Fair Elf Princess Page 2


  Chapter 3: The Girl of His Dreams

  Elliot opened his eyes, instinctively looking over at the alarm clock which displayed an indiscernible gibberish, and immediately realized he was dreaming. He remained calm so that he would not wake up, and got off of his dream bed. Elliot smiled, placing his dream arm in front of him, focused on the image of the Ox Wine potion he'd try to summon in his waking life, and saw a majestic goblet gradually materialize before him. He clasped it, having succeeded, and walked right through his dream door.

  This time, when he walked through the hall leading to the stairs, he told himself, "When I look at the wall there will be no paintings," trying his hardest to believe his own words, before glancing to see if it had worked.

  To his utter delight, there were only strange ever-changing shapes in the place of the paintings.

  "Stay calm," he said aloud to himself before continuing down the stairs and into the living room.

  When he looked over at the television he immediately realized his error as the enormous stinkbug was wriggling its legs, creepily popping out of the screen.

  "I have total power over you in this world, Mr. stinkbug," said Elliot, walking towards the creature. "I am the master of this world."

  Elliot raised the Ox Wine potion goblet to his lips, taking a sip before approaching the horrendous creature. He then charged the stinkbug, punching and kicking at it, causing greenish blood to spill from its cracked exoskeleton before using all of his strength to push it back into the television.

  "What are you doing, Elliot?" asked a voice, causing Elliot to spin around and see his father looking suspiciously at him.

  "Nothing."

  "Are you lying to me, Elliot?" asked his father.

  "No."

  "Are you lying to me, Elliot?"

  "I won't lie to you, dad."

  "Are you lying to yourself, Elliot?"

  Elliot turned his back on his dream father, believing he was wasting precious time, and closed his eyes. At that moment, Elliot cleared his mind of all except for one thing. He stood with his dream eyes closed shut for a while, trying to convince both his conscious and subconscious mind that the thing he so desperately sought after was standing just behind him. He allowed his desire to soak into the core of his being. Before long, he turned around, bracing himself so that his excitement would not wake him from his dream before he could leave with what he most desired. Standing before him, with sparkling strands of rosy hair and skin as pure as mountain snow, was Rosewielder. Her features were inhumanly beautiful, possessing an otherworldly elegance that could not be produced with the flawed devices of the real world. She radiated with an angelic light, and Elliot wondered if the being standing before him was not some divine being rather than an imagined sculpture from his imagination.

  "Rosewielder, I need you," said Elliot, placing his hand out towards her.

  "I'm here for you, my Grandmaster Swordsman," said Rosewielder as she grabbed his hand, instantly causing an indescribable feeling of completion to conquer him.

  The coming moments encompassed a familiar falling sensation as the atmosphere vanished, Elliot eventually finding himself lying on his bed again, but this time, he was not alone. He felt himself blush, his hand still clutched around the goblet, his breathing partially constricted by a warm and heavy force laying atop his chest. The weight on his chest shifted and then lessened, making the metal springs squeak as it slid off his bed. It was Rosewielder, an expression of outright confusion on her face as her violet eyes, seemingly gazed into his soul. It was peculiar, watching her standing there, her porcelain skin glowing gorgeously beneath the sparse morning sunlight, looking like an angel who'd gotten lost on her journey to the heavens.

  "Grandmaster Swordsman, did you want me to vanquish Crimson Vampires for you? Or how about Ice Elves?" asked Rosewielder, her eyes fiercely scanning Elliot's room.

  "Uh, no. I don't think you have to worry about Ice Elves or Vampires, Rosewielder. Not any more," answered Elliot, sitting up and placing the goblet of Ox Wine potion on the floor beside him.

  "Then it must be the troll scum!" yelled Rosewielder aggressively. "If only I could find my sword."

  "No, Rosewielder. Trolls, vampires and elves don't exist in this world. I brought you into the real world," explained Elliot, but his words seemed to fall on deaf ears as Rosewielder held out her hand and yelled, "Quick sword of Light, come to your Mistress!"

  In a split second, the air was filled with a loud swoosh as a long thin object moved at immeasurable speed from underneath his bed and into the hands of its true master. Once armed, a familiar whitish blue light shined from the weapon and Rosewielder began swinging her sword with such speed that it appeared she had eight arms, before finally sheathing her weapon.

  "It appears not to be contaminated with dark magic. Oh, what were you saying again? You know, about the real world. I'm afraid I don't understand you," she said, gently running her fingers through her hair.

  Elliot scratched his head nervously, making sure to choose his next words with prudence.

  "Well, um… You see, Rosewielder, I'm not certain but, I think you're a spirit. You came from my dreams," said Elliot slowly.

  "What's a spirit?" asked Rosewielder inattentively, walking over to his desk and poking his laptop mischievously. "What is this device? I don't believe I've come across such a thing."

  "A spirit is what you are. I created you. Somehow, I'm able to summon spirits from my dreams," explained Elliot.

  "I most certainly am not!" said Rosewielder, sounding offended, her celestial eyes finally looking at him. "I was born in the Earth Nation. I am the Fair Elf Princess, the daughter of Elf King Methuselah, and the one who is destined to ensure that the evil of the Ice Elves does not engulf the world." Rosewielder narrowed her eyes before continuing.

  "Your remarks are worrisome, Grandmaster Swordsman. An individual of your title should not tell lies. You must be an impostor!" yelled Rosewielder, pulling out her sword. "And you shall be banished!"

  "No, please, I'm sorry!" Elliot yelled in horror, dropping to his knees, and holding his arms protectively over him. "I mean you no harm! Please don't attack!"

  "Then explain yourself or prepare to taste steel!" demanded Rosewielder.

  Elliot glanced over at his alarm clock which read 5:45 a.m. He only had thirty minutes until it was time for him to go down to breakfast.

  "Alright, alright," he said calmly. "Do you see that device on the desk over there?"

  He pointed at his laptop.

  "What about it?"

  "You wanted to know what it is. It is called a computer. If you allow me to use it I can show you that I am not lying to you."

  "If this is some trickery of yours then you will regret it," said Rosewielder, keeping the tip of her sword cautiously raised towards Elliot.

  "It isn't trickery."

  "Go ahead then, but I will be watching you."

  Elliot slowly stood up and crept over to his computer before pushing the power button.

  "In a moment you will see images appear on the screen. They will not harm you," said Elliot.

  Rosewielder tilted her head closer to the screen, her sword lowering ever so slightly. Elliot hastily used his keyboard to pull up the official Fantasy Lotus website. He scrolled down a list of playable characters in the game, stopping when he reached a moving clip of Rosewielder depicted chucking her sword at a ferocious looking green eyed black dragon. Below was a large amount of yellow text.

  "Who is that impostor? I thought you said this wouldn't be trickery," she said, although her sword remained still.

  "Just wait," said Elliot as he brought up the character biography. "I hope you, at least, know how to read," said Elliot under his breath.

  "I heard that, and I'll have you know that I do know how to read. How else could I use the elf scrolls to determine what devilry that evildoers ar
e up to?"

  "Then tell me, do you know anything else about yourself other than what is in this character biography?" asked Elliot.

  Rosewielder leaned in closer, her sword lowering, still more. For nearly eight minutes, Elliot scrolled down the page as Rosewielder continued reading her own biography. When she finally stood straight again, she remained silent for a few seconds.

  "I must admit that this is quite accurate. But how does this prove that I was … What did you say? A spirit? Conjured by you from your dreams?"

  "Fantasy Lotus is a game and I play it…a lot. In this world when people focus on things that are important to them they become a part of them. This game has been on my mind, and, so, naturally, it filled my imagination and my dreams. You were a part of that realm until, somehow, I pulled you out of it."

  "So, are you saying that the world I know is merely the world of your dreams?"

  "Yes."

  "Yet I'm standing right behind you. I don't understand," said Rosewielder, her worried voice betraying her.

  "Somehow, I'm able to bring things from my imagination into the real world."

  "Are you trying to tell me that this real world is the world outside of your dreams?" asked Rosewielder.

  "Exactly."

  "I speak truthfully when I say that I do not want to believe this, Grandmaster Swordsman. Does this occur often in this world?"

  "No, I'm the only one I know that has this ability," answered Elliot.

  "But my father, Elf King Methuselah,"-- began Rosewielder but Elliot interrupted her.

  "Elf King Methuselah does not exist. He is a video game character that appeared in the second installment of Fantasy Lotus."

  Elliot scrolled down the list of characters until he reached the picture of a large, robust looking man with a white flowing beard, pointed ears, and a golden headpiece encrusted with an emerald stone.

  "It just can't be true," said Rosewielder desperately as her sword came within inches of the floor.

  "Rosewielder, do you remember actually meeting your father?" asked Elliot, curiously anticipating her answer.

  She exhaled deeply, allowing her sword to hit the floor with a clunk.

  "No, I do not," she finally said.

  "That's probably because you only know what I imagined you to know. I studied your character biography. But those aren't real experiences."

  "I concede that what you say does make sense. I remember nothing before seeing you standing before me. All I remember is taking your hand and finding myself laying with you."

  "You're saying you don't remember me during our previous encounters? Don't you recall destroying Soul Sucking Trolls for me in one of my earlier dreams?" asked Elliot.

  "No, I do not."

  "So that is what they meant then," said Elliot aloud.

  "What are you muttering about?" asked Rosewielder.

  "In an earlier dream I encountered Crimson Vampires. To me, they were just imaginary characters. When I said that I'd wake up they implied that this would destroy them. I now know that it is true that when the dreamer awakens everything in that dream ceases to exist. The Rosewielders that I met earlier were not you. I think they were more like different versions of you," explained Elliot.

  "Different versions of me!" yelled Rosewielder, her voice quivering angrily. "You're saying I'm not real!"

  "Well, you are my... spirit partner. I summoned you using my imagination. Therefore, you aren't a real person," responded Elliot.

  Elliot heard a loud thump, noticing that Rosewielder had completely dropped her sword before she walked beside him, clear streams pouring down her face, and before long, he felt a very real pain in the side of his cheek. She had slapped him.

  "Why did you bring me into this world?! she screamed, her face oddly divine yet so somber that for the first time in his life, he felt truly ashamed.

  "I'm sorry."

  "I demand an answer! Why do I exist! What purpose did you bring me here?!"

  "I think you can help me better this world!"

  "Why can't you do that yourself?! Are you not a Grandmaster Swordsman?!" shouted Rosewielder.

  "It's the honest truth," said Elliot, lowering his head.

  Rosewielder immediately placed her hand under his chin, snapping his head up, forcing Elliot to look right into her piercing eyes, now so wrathful that he was truly terrified.

  "Are you lying to me?!"

  "No, I swear I'm telling the truth."

  "Are you lying to me?!"

  "Alright, I did it because I didn't want to go it alone! I was lonely. I wanted someone by my side to help me in my mission as the dream savior," he said in a defeated voice.

  "You are pathetic."

  "Yes. Yes, I am. Is there anything I can do to clean up my mess?" he asked himself aloud.

  "Stand up, Grandmaster Swordsman," said Rosewielder, her face full of pity.

  Elliot obeyed.

  "If you truly want my forgiveness then you must help me find my reason for being," said Rosewielder. "The day I can truly call this world my home is the day I can forgive you."

  Elliot took a deep breath.

  "I understand. I'll help you. Since I'm familiar with this world, will you allow me to teach you even if it means listening to what I say and taking my advice?" asked Elliot.

  "I will as long as you promise to never lie to me."

  "I promise, and, by the way, my name is Elliot."

  "Well, Elliot, I'm ready to start the first day of my life," said Rosewielder retrieving her sword and sliding it into its sheath.

  "Rosewielder, you don't look like the average human. That is why I want you to stay in my room until I get home from school," said Elliot.

  "My design is that of an Earth Elf's. I agree."

  "Understand that I'm not forcing you to do this."

  "I will heed your advice."

  "First thing's first. If anyone even tries entering my room when I'm not around you must hide yourself. It's important that no one sees you," said Elliot.

  "Hiding is for cowards!" spat Rosewielder.

  "Rosewielder, please," said Elliot.

  His desperation must have shown in his face because he saw Roswielder's head lower resistantly.

  "Oh, alright. I will obey, but only because you look so pathetically hopeless."

  "Thanks," said Elliot sarcastically.

  Elliot then turned on the television, his PC6, and his laptop computer, suggesting that Rosewielder educate herself about the world through scanning through the channels. After showing her how to use the buttons on both his remote and his game controller, Elliot readied himself for school before running down to have breakfast. The trouble that the giant stinkbug farce had caused had gone viral as nearly every channel had footage of people giving their dramatic accounts of what they'd witnessed, but Elliot breathed a sigh of release when it was reported that there were no casualties or serious injuries. After hastily finishing a bowl of frosted cereal and gulping down a large glass of prune juice, Elliot hopped into his corvette and traveled off to school.

  Calculus was Elliot's first class of the day. Their teacher, Mr. Fujita, a tall thin Korean man, with thick rimmed glasses, administered a quiz right after the bell had rang and they'd taken their assigned seats. The material was easy for Elliot who reveled in the complexities of the subject, and, after about five minutes, he'd completed the quiz. Following an in depth review of several formulas, Mr. Fujita allowed the class a break for the last five minutes of class.

  "Hey, Elliot, did you hear what happened on the news?" asked a tanned skinned Indian girl, walking towards the front of the class, accompanied by a chubby black boy with brownish hazel eyes.

  "Yeah, I did," he answered.

  "Weird stuff, bro," said the boy, shaking his head.

  "No kidding, Ezzena," said Elliot, hoping they wouldn't press the subject.

  "It's al
most as crazy as this new game that Playvision has released. It's called MedievalHunter," said the girl, placing her hand beside her mouth as if this was some secret.

  She then whispered, "You should get it before it totally sells out."

  "I'll think about it, Abha," said Elliot, putting his class notes in his notebook.

  "Did you know that some girl has the hots for you?" asked Ezenna, a huge grin sliding on his face, his eyes playfully looking at Abha.

  "Oh, yeah. Some girl wanted me to give this to you. She knew your name so I assumed she knew you," said Abha, pulling out a folded up piece of paper. "Hopefully she's not some crazy stalkerish type."

  She handed the note to Elliot.

  "Uh, thanks," said Elliot, taking it and putting it on his desk.

  "Aren't you going to open it?" asked Ezzena as they both beamed at him as if they were about to receive some great treasure.

  "Well, alright," said Elliot, unfolding the paper.

  It read:

  Elliot

  I was just wondering if maybe you wanted to come by to the art club after school today. I know that we have different classes on B days so I got Abha to give it to you. I really think you will enjoy it.

 

  Julie

 

  He'd just finished reading when it was snatched out of his hand by Abha.

  "Aww, isn't that sweet?" she asked playfully, dangling the note, before Elliot quickly seized it from her.

  "So are we good for Game Con on Saturday?" asked Ezzena excitedly.

  "I don't have any plans. I've already practiced for the SAT," answered Abha.

  "Likewise. I have a friend that will be tagging along with us."

  "A friend? Who? Is it a guy or girl?" asked Ezzena.

  "Um, it's a girl. She's a professional cosplayer," lied Elliot.

  Ezzena and Abha looked at each other teasingly before grinning amusedly at him.

  "No, it's not what you think. I swear. Come one, guys."

  "Right," said Abha.

  "Anyways, the class is about to end," said Elliot just as the bell rang, signaling the end of class.

  Elliot waved them goodbye before traversing through several crowded hallways, and trudging down a flight of stairs, his AP Biology and AP Calculus books weighing him down. Upon arrival, he was amiably greeted in Japanese at the door by a petite woman with a long grayish ponytail, Ms. Ivanova. Once the entire class was present their teacher walked over to a black overhead projector that stood on a wooden cart in the center of the classroom, turned it on, and they began with the lesson. Everyone was called on at least once to respond to questions in Japanese. The remainder of the class was spent watching a Japanese live action film about an old tale called The Bamboo Cutter about a strange girl named Kaguya who was born in a stalk of bamboo. As the film progressed, chronicling the struggle of the girl who was supposedly from the moon and not of the world, Elliot found himself reflecting on his new task as he tried to look at Rosewielder's situation from her perspective.

  Will Rosewielder, like Princess Kaguya, find herself engulfed by sadness. Will she be able to stay in this world. Will she be somehow taken from me just as the Moon people took Princess Kaguya. No, I will convince her that this world is a place worth living in! How can I be a savior, a dream savior, if I can't save one person.

  When the class had ended Ms. Ivanova requested that they write a report, discussing their thoughts about the film. With new resolve, Elliot embarked to his AP Biology class, but, when he'd finally arrived, his mind was anywhere but where it needed to be in order to follow the lesson.

  "Mr. Clementine, can you please repeat to me what Ms. Jennings was so kindly able to describe about structural isomers," said his biology teacher, Mr. Stewart, a diminutive balled man in a striped suit.

  "What? Sorry, what did she say, again?" asked Elliot, caught of guard.

  "I'm surprised, Mr. Clementine. You are usually one of my best students. You should have been paying more attention," said Mr. Stewart disappointedly.

  "I'm sorry, sir. I won't let it happen again," said Elliot, surprised with himself.

  Darn it! I have to stop thinking about this, right now. I have other responsibilities. I'll see Rosewielder when I get home.

  For Elliot's last class, music, the students were required to practice on the violin and perform a small piece for the class. Their teacher, Ms. Matthews, a thin amber eyed brunette, smiled proudly as Elliot tranquilly ran his bow across the strings, performing Paganini's Twenty Four Caprices, making sure to keep his hair, from interfering with his performance.

  "Splendid," she said bluntly.

  It wasn't long before the students were packing up their instruments at the ringing of the bell, indicating the end of the school day. However, after Elliot left his last class and retrieved his books and backpack for the next day, he didn't leave school but, instead, journeyed down a long hallway that was bright from the ultraviolet light shinning through many windows from a wall parallel to it. This led to what he was sure was the art club, and sure enough, when he pushed open a pair of wooden double doors, he saw what appeared to have previously been an old cafeteria that was make-shifted into an enormous art room. In the middle of the room sat dozens of white long tables accompanied by students manipulating all sorts of materials from used bottles, old newspapers, styrofoam plates, and plastic utensils to plain paper and milk cartons. Elliot scanned the room, spotting Julie sitting just ten feet away at a table covered with balloons, glue and other craft materials. Two boys were also at the table but were busily listening to mp3 players.

  "Hello, Julie," said Elliot, approaching the table.

  "Hi, Elliot," she said, immediately shooting to her feet, blushing.

  "So, what exactly is it that we do here?" asked Elliot, looking around.

  "We can do whatever we want here. I usually practice making stuff for the school art fair," said Julie, picking up a piece of glue and pouring it into a clear plastic bowl. "My specialty is paper mache balloon heads."

  Elliot placed his backpack under the table, taking a seat directly across from Julie. He nervously scratched his head before pulling a hair tie from his pocket and tying his hair back.

  "That sounds…interesting."

  He grabbed a small piece of cut newspaper and dipped it in glue before placing it on a yellow balloon.

  "So you make heads?" asked Elliot curiously. "I've heard of paper mache but how do you make heads?"

  "Once I cover the balloons, I just keep adding more glue and paper until I form a nose, cheeks, eyes and so on," answered Julie. "I'm actually a pretty good sculptor. I like recreating the human form."

  "Do you sculpt anyone in particular? Could you sculpt me?" asked Elliot, struggling with a particularly sticky piece of newspaper.

  "I would love to sculpt you. I like to sculpt things I find attractive, after all. Oh, and I usually sculpt members of my family."

  "That's neat."

  "I sculpt my mom, dad, and older brother a lot," said Julie, changing the position of a nearly covered balloon in her hand.

  "I bet they like that."

  "There's no way to tell. They're dead."

  "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to--," he started but he was cut off.

  "It's okay. Besides, you didn't know."

  "But still, that must be hard," said Elliot compassionately.

  "They've been dead for two years. It was a car accident because of a drunk driver," she said. "I guess it's time for me to move on and accept that they no longer exist."

  "I'm sorry, but I disagree," said Elliot.

  "What do you mean?" asked Julie, her brown eyes gazing at him, partially obscured by her bangs.

  "Even though they may not be alive. I think your family exists in you, in your memories and in your soul," answered Elliot carefully.

  Julie studied Elliot closely for a few moments. She t
hen laughed.

  "What's so funny?" asked Elliot, mystified.

  "You sound like my granny. That is what she says. However, she uses heart instead of soul," said Julie, smiling.

  "Your granny is wise."

  "She is, but I'm not sure if I agree with her. I think that once someone is gone then they are gone. It was the same with Mr. Winslow, my cat. One day he just stopped moving four weeks ago," said Julie, reaching towards her necklace and grabbing the locket, opening it, and revealing a picture of an orange tabby cat, appearing to have heterochromia with one green and one blue eye.

  Elliot reached toward the locket, grasping it, and holding it closer, taking in every detail of the picture, before releasing it.

  "I'm sorry for your loss," said Elliot.

  "Oh, well. That's why I keep my mind busy with my art and my schoolwork," said Julie with a sigh.

  The pair continued working on their paper mache creations for a good half hour before Elliot thought it best that he get going.

  "They should be dry by tomorrow," said Julie, showing him an impressively detailed head sculpted from slabs of glued newspaper.

  "Okay, I'll try to be here if nothing comes up," said Elliot.

  The pair said their goodbyes and Elliot began his car ride home, keeping track of the time, and praying that Rosewielder hadn't caused any trouble in his absence. When he arrived at the driveway he saw that his mom's blue Lexus was already in the garage and, so, after hastily grabbing his school things and violin case, went inside.

  "Hello, dear," said his mother who was already in the kitchen preparing dinner, the scent of freshly cut onions causing his eyes to water slightly.

  "Hi, mom."

  "How was school?" she asked, pulling out a bag of vegetables from the freezer.

  "It was great. I actually visited the art club today," said Elliot, walking towards the stairs.

  "Excellent. Dinner will be ready in about an hour."

  "Great," said Elliot as he hastily made his way up the stairs and towards his bedroom.

  He took a deep breath before opening the door and became instantly flabbergasted by what he saw. To his right laid two square objects that looked as is they'd been cut cleanly in half, the smell of burnt plastic strong in the air. His eyes slowly moved to where his television had neatly stood, just that morning, and he dropped his backpack upon realizing the state of it. To his left, calmly flipping through a magazine, laid Rosewielder on his bed, her legs crossed, a disgusted expression on her face.

  "You're back, Elliot!" she said excitedly.

  She sat the magazine down and slid off his bed.

  "Rosewielder, what happened to my television?" said Elliot, his voice calm but trembling, as he pointed to the two pieces of his TV.

  "That device is evil, Elliot!" she said loudly. "I saw miniature versions of Ice Elves killing my people before my eyes so I destroyed the thing."

  "Rosewielder, those were merely images, moving pictures," started Elliot in frustration. "They weren't real."

  "They seemed real to me," she said, placing her hands on her hips.

  "Nothing more than good graphics," said Elliot bitterly, taking his backpack and putting it beside his desk.

  "Your room is also filled with images of impure females in degrading clothing," she said, looking over at the magazines on his bed.

  "Rosewielder, you didn't," began Elliot, running his hands through his hair.

  "Didn't what?" she asked unabashedly.

  "Never mind," he said, scooping up a group of magazines picturing girls wearing bikinis and putting it under his mattress before plopping down at his desk. "What's done is done. I'm going to get started on my homework. Please do not disturb me while I'm working."

  Rosewielder remained silent, walking over to Elliot's bed and sitting. Then, as he began reading through the instructions for his history homework, she said two words.

  "I'm sorry."

  "It's nothing," said Elliot absentmindedly.

  "Don't lie to me, Elliot," said Rosewielder, standing to her feet. "It was wrong of me to destroy that which belonged to you."

  She then walked over to the half pieces of the television, holding out her arm. An inexplicable warm breeze suddenly permeated through the atmosphere of his room and Rosewielder's hair flowed with the beauty of a goddess, her ivory skin glowing with an angelic light as an unnatural cracking and crunching noise filled Elliot's ears. It was then that he saw the two halves of the defeated television fuse together as they were levitated back to their original spot.

  "Rosewielder?" muttered Elliot, awed.

  When the warmth and light that radiated from Rosewielder finally ceased Elliot saw her looking intently into his eyes, her expression unreadable.

  "I meant it when I told you to never lie to me. If I mess up I want you to correct me. I want to learn to live in this world," said Rosewielder.

  Elliot stood up from his chair, walked up to Rosewielder and placed his hand on her shoulder.

  "Good job. You clean up your mistakes and the messes that you make. That's more than I can say for a lot of people, including myself," said Elliot, not knowing whether he'd imagined Rosewielder's skin flush slightly before her face adopted its usual stern demeanor.

  Elliot resumed his homework, allowing Rosewielder to study him from over his shoulder as he read the texts, jotted down notes, erased his mistakes and flipped through pages for references and definitions. He gave the textbooks he wasn't using to Rosewielder to study, noticing the fierce fascination in her eyes as she gazed upon pictures of cells, animals, and insects in his biology textbook and turned his Calculus textbook every which way, trying to make sense of the problems on the page.

  "Please be gentle," said Elliot.

  "I will," she said, turning a page of his music book.

  In about ten more minutes Elliot shut his English book closed. "I'm done, at last. Rosewielder, I have to go to dinner now. Will you be okay?"

  "Yes, I'll be fine. I'm no infant," she said defensively.

  "Right," said Elliot as he left Rosewielder, ensuring the door was shut tightly closed behind him before traveling down stairs to a splendidly decorated dinner table that awaited him.

  His mother had outdone herself. Elliot saw that the table not only had the usual dinner towels, utensils and plates neatly set up, totaling six spots, but great care had been taken in the placing of several vanilla scented candles towards the center of the table which were accompanied with four large china bowls filled to the brim with different foods including shrimp fried rice, general taos, chicken, cucumber salad, and Spatzle noodles. Faiga and his father were already at the table while his mother appeared to be finishing up cleaning up the stovetop. Elliot took a seat parallel to his father just before his mother finally sat across from Faiga, beaming at her own masterpiece. Elliot tried a hefty scooping of the Spatzle noodles and cucumber salad after pouring himself a glass of iced chai tea. Faiga and his father invaded the shrimp fried rice.

  "How is your mother?" Mrs. Clementine asked his father, using chopsticks to pick up a portion of noodles, her face concerned.

  "She is doing okay, so far. She remembers my name and brother Chen. But it's apparent that the Alzheimer's is progressing. I think the prescriptions will help slow the process," answered Mr. Clementine somberly.

  "That's why, when I grow up, I want to find a cure for diseases like that," said Faiga confidently. "It was sad when Grandma Wu didn't remember me."

  "With grades and talent like yours you can do anything you want, Faiga," said Mr. Clementine, before taking a sip of tea from a glass.

  "I just like to remember the happy times with Grandma Wu," said Elliot.

  "That's all you can do, honey," said his mother with a comforting yet sorrowful smile.

  The Clementines continued enjoying dinner as Mr. and Mrs. Clementine took turns discussing their daily responsibilitie
s and problems at work. Faiga and Elliot debated about their tastes in music, stopping every now and then to put more food into their mouth, until they were all thoroughly stuffed. However, when dinner was over Elliot made an extra plate of food and poured a glass of tea.

  "Wow, you really must be hungry, Elliot," said his mother, watching him.

  "Well, I need the extra calories. We started lifting weight recently," said Elliot. "I have to research something online for a school project so do you mind if I finish this in my room?"

  "Of course not, honey. It's good that you start learning how to multitask. But be sure to clean your plate after you bring it back down."

  "I will, mom," said Elliot.

  Elliot carefully carried the items upstairs before moving the glass so that it was squeezed in between his arm and his chest, opening the door to his room, and using his shoulder to close the door.

  He saw Rosewielder lying on her stomach on his bed, still avidly amusing herself with his school textbooks.

  "Rosewielder, are you hungry?" he asked, placing the plate and glass on his desk.

  Rosewielder responded by sliding off his bed, walking over to the plate of shrimp fried rice and cucumber salad. She bent down, her tiny nostrils moving as she sniffed at the food.

  "Yes, I am," she said, looking down at a pair of chopsticks and a fork and spoon.

  She picked up the chopsticks.

  "These are a strange pair of utensils," she said, trying to pick up several grains of rice, having great difficulty.

  Elliot chuckled lightheartedly.

  "You'd probably be better off sticking to these," he said, pointing at the spoon and fork.

  "This frustrates me greatly! How do people eat with these things?" asked Rosewielder as a clump of rice fell from the chopsticks before she could put it in her mouth.

  "Like this," said Elliot, taking the chopsticks from her, correctly positioning them between his fingers, and picking up some rice. He then handed them back to her.

  "You try now."

  Rosewielder took them, and to Elliot's surprise, perfectly repeated what he'd done, putting a hefty portion of rice in her mouth.

  "Not bad," she said before beginning to consume the better part of the bowl.

  "Don't forget about your tea," said Elliot, eyeing a glass of dark liquid.

  Rosewielder hastily picked up the cup, brought it to her mouth before Elliot felt his face be sprayed with liquid as she spat it out.

  "This is deplorable," said Rosewielder, her face screwed up in disgust. "What is this concoction?"

  "Uh, tea leaves and a little bit of sugar," said Elliot, wiping the tea off his face with his shirt.

  "I know what to do," said Rosewielder, suddenly getting to her feet and walking over towards Elliot's bed.

  She bent down and picked up an object, and it was only when she brought it to her mouth and took several large gulps that Elliot realized it was the Ox Wine potion.

  "Elliot, you simply must try some," she said excitedly, walking over to him.

  "I don't know. I pulled that stuff out of my dream. The wine is a…a spirit object. I don't know if a normal per…" He changed his words mid sentence. "I don't know if someone like me should drink that stuff."

  "Suit yourself. More for me then," she said before taking several more gulps.

  Elliot took the dirty dishes downstairs and washed them clean before going back to his room.

  "Elliot," said Rosewielder when he'd got back to his room.

  "Yeah, what is it?"

  "I wish to bathe in your springs."

  "What? What are you talking about?"

  "Don't you have springs so that I can bathe myself in. A princess must have impeccable hygiene."

  "Oh, well, you can use the shower across the hall," said Elliot. "We have to be careful though so no one sees you."

  Elliot peaked out his door to ensure that everyone else was down stairs before leading Rosewielder to the bathroom, and after telling her how to operate the shower, closed the door behind him and went back to his room.

  Crap! How could I forget about that. If someone spots her now then we're finished. Come on, Rosewielder. Hurry up!

  Elliot sat nervously at his desk, crossing his arms, praying with all his might that no one would come up the stairs, but his prayers fell on deaf ears, his heart nearly pumping out of his chest, when he heard footsteps growing ever so louder from the hallway. Terrified, he rushed out of his room, shaking as he saw Faiga walking towards the shower, wearing a pink bath gown and a turquoise towel wrapped around her head, carrying a blue bottle of bath wash.

  "Why did you leave the shower door closed?" she asked as she approached.

  "I think either mom or dad is in the shower," he answered, trying his hardest to sound casual.

  "Mom and dad are still downstairs. I just came from down there," said Faiga. "Who's in there?"

  "No one is in there. I'm just using the bathroom for my chemistry homework," lied Elliot.

  "Elliot," sounded Rosewielder's voice, muffled from the bathroom door.

  "Who's in there?" repeated Faiga, attempting to poke over her brother's shoulder.

  "Okay. If you really want to know then it's just one of my friends who's had a falling-out with her parents. She needed a place to stay for the night."

  Faiga was silent for a good five seconds, narrowing her eyes as she thought.

  "Do mom and dad know about this?" she finally asked.

  "No, and they can't know about this. Please don't tell them, Faiga," said Elliot.

  "Why can't they know?" she asked curiously.

  "You know they'd never let a girl stay here, Faiga. You know how mom and dad are when it comes to you and boys."

  Faiga's eyes studied him for a few moments as she pondered.

  "I don't know about this, big bro," she said slowly. "I don't like the thought of going behind mom's and dad's backs."

  "Faiga, I am begging you not to tell mom and dad. I'll help you with your homework for a month," said Elliot. "Can you please just do this huge favor for me?"

  "Okay, big bro," she said, hugging him, just as the shower door opened slightly, Rosewielder peaking her head out.

  "Elliot, can't you hear me. I said that I need a clean war-," Rosewielder stopped in mid sentence, her eyes looking curiously at Faiga.

  "Wow, she looks like a beautiful angel!" said Faiga, unable to contain her excitement.

  "Don't be so loud, Faiga," said Elliot tensely.

  "Hello, I'm Faiga, his sister," said Faiga happily. "It's so nice to meet you and I'm sorry about you and your parents."

  "Hello, Faiga, I am Rosewielder, the Fair Princess of the-," started Rosewielder confidently before stopping, a saddened expression spreading across her face. "I'm just Rosewielder."

  "What was it you needed?" asked Faiga.

  "I am in need of a clean wardrobe," said Rosewielder.

  "I think I can arrange that for you," said Faiga happily. "Wait here."

  Elliot stood nervously in the hallway, sweating bullets, as Faiga provided Rosewielder with a violet checkered nightgown and a pair of pink slippers that had previously belonged to one of their older cousins. He breathed a sigh of relief as soon as she was back in his room and he'd locked the door.

  "That was close," said Elliot. "You caught yourself before things got messy. You're learning."

  "Learning is sometimes difficult," said Rosewielder, taking her sword and placing it under the bed.

  "Yes, it can be."

  It was nearly time for bed and Elliot made his way to the hall closet, retrieving a sleeping bag and a large pillow before returning to his room and preparing a place on the floor.

  "I'm going to sleep. I have school tomorrow," he said, trying to find a comfortable position on the hard floor.

  However, once he'd put his head on the pillow he noticed Rosewielder
standing over him with an odd expression.

  "What is the meaning of this?" she asked.

  "What is the meaning of what?"

  "Why do you not sleep in the bed?"

  "I'll let you have the bed," said Elliot tiredly.

  "That is awfully strange. Is it not your bed. I should think that you should get to use the bed."

  "Do you think fair princesses should sleep on a hard floor?" asked Elliot.

  "Well, no but-," she started but Elliot sleepily cut her off. "Please, Rosewielder, I'm tired. Just use the bed."

  Rosewielder did not argue but got into Elliot's bed, pulling the covers over herself.

  "That's very kind of you, Elliot," she said.