Finding Alwar.

As I push it open, the door creaks, revealing cool lighting and that new apartment smell that I've found filling my nose a lot over the past few weeks.

My sneakers press against white tiles as I move through my new apartment, freshly bought. I stride into the kitchen, setting bags of groceries down on the white marble counter.

"Organization," I murmur to myself as I take groceries out of the bags, my eyes flicking over the kitchen. "My favorite."

I open the silver steel fridge, finding a spot to slide egg cartons onto the white rack.

I've just moved out of my parent's house after they died in a car crash and found this apartment for a decent deal after a lot of apartment searching. I'm a new author, but I was lucky to have my first book ever to be a best-selling novel. I saved up and bought this nice apartment with marble counters and clean white trim.

I grab some cereal boxes, pick one of the white cabinets, and open it.

I'll admit, there's a whole lot of white. White cabinets, white tiles in the kitchen, off-white walls, and white trim. Although, after some decorating, I'm sure I can spice the place up a bit.

As I slide the cereal boxes into the cabinet my eyes catch on a flash of black among the white wood of the cabinet door. I squint, reaching up and hooking my fingers on what I assume is film wedged in between the cabinet door trim and the wood that the trim is attached to.

I pinch it with two fingers, yanking it out from in between the wood.

My eyebrows narrow as I look at the film.

There's a girl. She's standing at the beach at nighttime, likely here in Florida. She's lit up by the flash of whatever camera took the photo. Her hands are behind her back, a warm smile on her face, lighting up her slim, purple eyes. I squint, but I dismiss it, thinking it's just contacts. She's wearing a sundress, shimmery green flowing in the wind. Her hair is the color of a lake at night, flowing all the way down to her lower back in loose, blue-green waves.

The thing that catches my eye is the horns peeking through her hair at the crown of her head. They are like the horns of a baby goat, short and stubby. Then there's her ears. Her hair is tucked behind pointy, elf-like ears.

She is undeniably beautiful.

Part of me believes that this girl is just dressing up like a girl on Halloween with bright purple contacts, blue-green hair dye, ear attachments, and little horns attached to her head.

But then there's the part of me that reads too many fantasy books. The part of me that wonders if this human isn't human at all. The curious part of me wants to figure out who this girl is.

I flip the photo over, scanning the back.

In black ink, the words, 'Cordelia in the mortal world,' are sprawled.

I blink.

Here we are again. Satire or fantasy?

I sigh, internally debating myself.

My eyes roam over the photo, noticing the lighthouse to the far right side of the photo. The girl I now know as Cordelia is standing near the docks, right where the boats come in. There's a boat parked at the dock, one that seems different than the rest. It's the same size, same style. Only it seems murkier. . . more shimmery.

I squint, unsure if I'm going crazy or not.

There's a layer of shimmery purple surrounding the boat. Like magic.

That fantasy-book-reading side of the internal debate wins. I set the photo down and start searching the rest of the cabinets, looking for something else that might give me a clue.

I study the cabinets intently, looking at the ridges in between each frame of the inside of the cabinet door and the piece of wood that it's attached to.

Eventually, my eye catches a piece of paper.

My lips spread into a satisfied smile as I pinch the paper, carefully tugging it out of its hiding spot. I flip it over, my eyes scanning over the words etched in smudged ink sprawled across the paper.

'The dock at midnight. Friday, like every week.'

The words repeat in my mind. It's Friday. I glance out the window, the sky an inky black with few blinking stars due to the light pollution in this part of the city.

I reach over to my phone that's lying against the counter next to the empty grocery bags, clicking the bottom on the side of the case.

10:58

Nearly an hour until midnight.

With no hesitation, I slip my phone into my pocket. I snatch my keys off the counter, the sound of each one clinking together echoing through the empty apartment as I walk towards the door, open it, and step out.

I don't bother using the elevator, entering the stairwell, and skipping down the stairs, eager to fill out that urge to live in a fantasy book that I've had ever since I could understand the plot of one.

Once I reach the bottom floor I exit the apartment building, the moonlight shining against my honey-brown hair as I hop into my grey Honda Civic, starting the engine and pulling out of the parking lot.

In thirty minutes I arrive at the docks, taking my keys out of the ignition and hopping out of the car.

It's chilly out, but the jeans and sweater I have on are enough to conceal my body heat.

My eyes scan across the area.

Sand shifts beneath my sneakers as I cross the beach, heading towards the spot I remember Cordelia standing in.

Empty. My eyes flick over to the docks. The spot where the boat was is empty, but it's not midnight yet.

I bring my wrist up, checking my watch. Nearly twenty minutes until the clock hits twelve.

The wood creaks under my weight as I walk across the dock, looking for a hiding spot.

Just until midnight. If nothing happens, I'll leave.

My eyes flick back and forth, making sure no one is watching as I sneak onto a boat, dismissing the fact that I'm likely not supposed to be on anybody's private boat. I crouch down so only my head is visible as I watch the ocean, waiting.

Minutes tick by, and I begin thinking that I'm going insane. That girl might have just been someone doing a photoshoot, dressed as some sort of creature. The words on the back of the photo must've just been satire. A joke, considering her outfit. And then the note must've just been from someone just trying to meet someone, and it mistakenly didn't get taken. Or someone left it there, not bothering to trash it.

As midnight hits, I'm convinced that all the fantasy writing and reading has gotten to my head.

Just as I'm about to leave, a boat appears.

Out of nowhere.

I duck back down, peeking up only just enough to see what's going on.

The boat in the photo has appeared, that shimmery purple glitter falling around it.

That's when a boy hops out. Probably a little older than me. He looks similar to the Cordelia girl; slim, shimmery purple eyes and stubby horns peeking through blue-green, wavy hair. It flows around his head like waves, tickling his brows. Pointy ears poke through his hair as well, a copy of Cordelia's. He's tall and fit, wearing a grey, cotton tunic with simple trousers.

My eyebrows narrow.

There's no way this isn't something out of a fantasy book. Nobody wears stuff like that anymore.

I watch as the girl from the photo steps out beside him.

Now, side by side, I figure that they must be siblings, considering how similar they look to each other.

"It's midnight," the boy says, his voice deep and smooth. "Where is he?"

"I don't know, Flynn." Cordelia huffs, seeming annoyed as she strides across the deck, stopping just where the dark wood meets the grainy sand.

The boy I now know as Flynn rolls his eyes.

My eyes scan the boy's figure, studying him.

His skin is tan, with a rough look to it with a few scars across his arms, visible thanks to the moonlight. His hair looks darker, but I know it likely matches the deep blue-green ocean color of Cordelias; blue and green streaks through his hair. His eyes are lit with purple, several shades darker than the shimmery purple still falling around the boat.

Just like Cordelia, Flynn is undeniably beautiful.

Not human.

"Henry!" Cordelia's smooth voice echoes through the thin, night air.

I watch as she jumps, waving her arm towards the beach.

Soon, a boy approaches her. He has sandy brown hair and a bright smile, tall and freckled-faced with round ears and no horns.

He's human.

"Cordelia." Henry laughs, wrapping her arms around Cordelia as she throws herself at him.

I almost smile, but then I remember that I'm still trying to figure out what's going on.

Henry and Cordelia start talking, and my mind starts to put the pieces together.

Flynn and Cordelia arrived at the dock in an instant, the boat appearing out of nowhere. They are still looking non-human, so I suppose that means that they can't just be dressing up. If they were, it would be unusual. Not to mention, now that I'm up close and in person, those ears look real. The eyes look real. The horns look extremely real.

These people are non-human, meeting a human boy.

Flynn doesn't seem to care, climbing back onto the boat with a bored expression. "Come on, now, we have to get back to Alwar before the maids come and find us gone."

Something about their voices seems fancy to me. There's some sort of accent that just screams royal to me. Fantasy.

Cordelia and Henry walk back to the boat, hand-in-hand.

Panic rushes towards me as I realize they're about to leave.

As they climb onto the boat, all gathering towards the deck, I come out of my hiding spot in a moment of courage. My mind is screaming at me, telling me to leave and that this is an incredibly stupid idea. But my heart keeps me going, keeping my feet light to not alert their likely good hearing.

I hold my breath as I hop onto the boat, sitting at the rear where there's a decent amount of space behind the cabin. I sit, my back to the cabin and my knees to my chest.

As several moments of me staying hidden tick by, I let out my breath.

***

Around ten minutes have gone by.

I've been listening to their conversations, picking up personality traits and information between the three of them.

First of all, Cordelia is bright and bubbly. She's been in love with Henry ever since she visited the human world. Henry is just as in love with Cordelia as she is with him, despite her being whatever type of creature she is. Flynn is the one who has mastered these magic abilities, and that's why he takes Cordelia to see Henry every Friday, the purple shimmery thing hiding the boat in some sort of force field.

I feel a rush of adrenaline at this feeling of being in the unknown, undetected. In the shadows.

Oh, but that doesn't last for long.

Before I realize it, I'm staring into bright purple eyes, the boy crouched in front of me.

"What a little sneaky fox, hmm?" Flynn's smooth voice is low like he's telling me a secret just between the two of us. "Sneaking onto a faeries boat?"

Faerie.

I swallow, my eyes sweeping over his sharp nose and curved lips.

"I knew it," I whisper, more to myself than him.

He raises a thick brow, his eyes studying me with a look of amusement and curiosity. "What's your name, little fox?"

I narrow my eyes at that nickname. "Delilah," I answer, far too casually for a girl who just got caught on a faeries boat. "You can call me Lilah, though."

Flynn's chin tilts up, his slim eyes sweeping over my face. "A mortal."

"A faerie," I murmur back in the same tone, my eyes flicking over his horns and ears.

"You. . ," he trailed off, pinning me with a confused look, "aren't surprised."

I blink, suddenly remembering that I should totally be surprised right now. I just met a faerie. The ones you read about in fantasy books. The ones that can enchant you and put spells on you. I am a human, utterly defenseless against this boy.

Yet, I can't help the amazement in my eyes. The intrigued and curious feeling.

"Huh," Flynn murmurs, studying that look in my eyes. "This is unusual."

Seconds tick by of us staring at each other, his eyes flicking over my figure, sweeping over my pin-straight, honey-brown hair. He studies the sharp curve of my jaw, the point of my nose. Finally, they lock on my bland brown eyes, nowhere near as extravagant as the shimmery purple ones before me, looking like the very magic that surrounds the boat.

"You're beautiful," I blurt, and before I can let myself think I've reached up, poking the tip of his horn.

A smirk tugs at Flynn's lips, his eyes on mine. "For a mortal girl, so are you."

Despite the situation, I feel a blush cross my face.

"Flynn?" Cordelia appears beside Flynn, looking down at me with wide eyes.

My hand drops to my side.

Henry soon joins Cordelia, surprised as well.

Flynn stands up, looking down at me. "A mortal snuck onto the boat."

Cordelia just stares at me.

"I saw your picture," I say to her. I hesitantly stand up, fishing the photo out of my pocket. I hand it to her. "In my apartment."

She carefully takes it from me, her fingers long and slim with sharp nails. "Oh," she murmurs while looking at the photo., confusion knitting her brows together.

Henry grimaces. "I put that in there." He looks up at me. "That used to be my apartment."

I nod, more pieces of the puzzle connecting in my mind.

"So what do we do with her?" Cordelia asks, pretending as if I'm not even here as she looks at Flynn. He doesn't say anything, and Cordelia sighs. "How can we know we can trust her? We might have to just ench-"

"We aren't enchanting her," Flynn interrupts, his eyes never leaving mine.

Cordelia's brows furrow at his quick words. "Why not?"

"I don't want to."

I press my lips together, very confused.

"Mortals are unusual in Alwar," Flynn says, his gaze pinned on mine. "But not uncommon."

My eyebrows shoot up his forehead at what he's suggesting.

"Henry didn't want to come." He shrugs, gesturing to Henry. "But you? Do you want to live there?"

Cordelia sputters, "You just met her, Flynn!"

Flynn doesn't pay any attention to her, his eyes on me expectingly, waiting for me to answer.

My jaw is dropped. I blink at him. "Y-you want me to live with faeries? With-"

"Me," he finishes.

I practically have no family. My parents are dead. I was an only child. The only family I have is distant and doesn't care about me, living halfway across the world. And friends? I have none that I care to stay for.

I try and speak, but I'm too shocked at the offer.

"Is that a no?" Flynn frowns.

I shake my head vigorously. "No!" I swallow. "No. I want to."

Flynn smiles, dimples indenting his cheeks. "Alright, then."

Just then, they all look to the right, and so do I, still stunned.

An island comes into view from across the ocean. Over the whole patch of land is that purple shimmery glitter, layering the outside, hiding the view from normal boats. Our boat isn't normal, though.

I swallow, excited.

"Welcome," Flynn starts, smiling at me with dimples and bright purple eyes, "to Alwar."