“Don’t go to the forest unless you’re lookin for trouble with those nasty faes!”

Jean remembers the elderly, round woman scolding the kids who lingered too close to the trees lining the village, the dense forest mocking them from beyond. Something that his mother would say, too, as she beat him black and blue for that exact reason. “Go into that forest again, and I’ll throw you out!” she’d scream as metal bit into his bare skin. The image of Elodie sobbing when she saw him stumble into their small room was forever seared behind his eyes when he blinked.

Jean felt empty. His heart felt like it only kept going because he has his little sister to protect. He had nothing else. Jean faced abuse everywhere he traveled, either it be his mother’s hands or the older boy down the street. And the forest was the only sanctuary he had that didn’t offer bruises. His sister’s hand was too small in his, a worry blooming in his chest that maybe she wasn’t getting enough food. It’d be okay. He reasoned, it had to be.

He stalked down the fading path, keeping a close eye as Elodie picked up flowers before returning to his side. He felt nervous whenever she wandered too far, the woman’s voice echoing in his head. He thought the townspeople were delusional, they hadn’t seen a Fae in years, even before he was born, but his own dread made itself comfortable in his stomach.

That day changed everything, it was the same day Elodie and him went too far into the dark forest and spotted a ring of mushrooms as the sun went down. Jean wouldn’t ever forget the person, the fae, they’d seen. His sister’s gasp was too loud in the quiet and Jean’s breath froze, “Don’t spy on Fae without permission, it’s considered highly rude.”

It was something he himself read in a book to Elodie. His fingernails dug into his palm, begging that the Fae wouldn’t see them, and wouldn't think they were spying. He couldn’t be the reason his sister got hurt so he tightened his hold on her hand and hoped it was enough to keep her quiet.