Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Fitz couldn’t see. He couldn’t see anything around him, he couldn’t even see the backs of his eyelids. 

Adrenaline raced through his system, almost as quickly as the images were flitting over his eyes. They were too fractured, too blurry, but he managed to see a few of them.

A princess, who deserved better than the throne she was forced to sit upon.

Thousands of braids and a laugh like thunder.

A smile like gold, and the brightest gems in the ocean.

Bright red hair, and dimples that you couldn’t help but love.

His friends. His new friends. His only beacons of light in the never ending lake that he had opened up the day he met her. 

Sophie. His first friend in his new life.

He loved her, his sister, more than anything else in his new world, she was his favorite. But a part of him still resented her, for she was the one that brought him here.

If he had stayed in the human world, would things be different? Would he be happier? Somehow he thought he wouldn’t be, but if it meant that he didn’t end up here, that nobody had gotten hurt, then sacrificing the happiness he had found here might be worth it.

But it was too late for that. 

He was a hostage.

He smelled sweet, sweet sedatives, and didn’t even think about crying for help before inhaling. 

The memories on his eyes finally stopped moving and he thanked the sedatives, before realizing the images were quickly being replaced by darkness.

He reached out as if that would stop the incoming sleep, but he couldn’t move, his hands were bound. The panic that flooded through his system cleared his vision, but even that wasn’t going to be enough to hold off the nightmares. 

Were they going to kill him?

What was the point then? Of creating him? Of the everblaze? Why would the black swan want to destroy their own creation?

He felt the darkness, like curtains closing after a show. He didn’t want it to be over yet. He reached out with his mind, searching for something, anything, to tether himself to consciousness for just a few more seconds . 

Ice blue shot across his vision, blinding him.

Keefe’s eyes. Not his first friend, but the reason he felt like he could belong in his too perfect world. He heard Keefe’s laugh, saw the way his eyes almost closed completely when he smiled, felt the way Keefe hugged him, as if nothing else in the world had mattered.

Because nothing else had. He had been happy, if only for a brief period of time, that was enough for him.

The curtain closed.

He knew he couldn’t go back to the way things were before. The fires were burning, even before he knew what was out there, what it was, what he was . 

The spark before the blaze.

Chapter Text

Fitz decided that he would rather have genetically enhanced superabilities and go up against an insanely powerful rebellion trying to overthrow an already corrupt government than endure another day of this torture they call “high school”.

“Mr Foster!” Mr Sweeney’s voice -which was never associated with anything pleasant- cut through Fitz’s loud music as he yanked Fitz’s earbuds out by the cords. 

Fitz took a few seconds to wonder whether or not a teacher was allowed to forcefully remove an item from a student who had done nothing, really to provoke the attack. His thoughts were interrupted, yet again, by Mr. Sweeney, who didn’t seem to think the attack upon his student was unprovoked.

Fitz’s eyes felt like they were slamming open as the headache his music had been fighting off returned, painful as ever. His hand twitched, meant to move to massage his aching temples, but the sight of Mr Sweeney’s wide eyes was enough to still him completely.

“No, sir.” he mumbled, shaking his head so his curly bangs fell over his eyes, slightly obstructing his vision. 

Having a weird name was bad enough, but being fourteen years old, five foot four, and a high school senior definitely didn’t improve his social situation. He could feel multiple glares shooting towards him; always the reminder that he would always be noticed, no matter how hard he tried to hide. The weird prodigy, the outcast. 

“Then can you explain why you were listening to your iPod instead of following along?” Mr Sweeney held up Fitz’s earbuds as if they were evidence of a crime. If Fitz had wanted to commit a crime, it would have been a lot more interesting of a crime than listening to music when he was supposed to be paying attention to Mr Sweeney’s lecture. 

Not that anyone else in his class would have passed up the opportunity to get out of listening to Mr Sweeney drone on about dinosaurs. When he had decided to drag Fitz’s class to the Natural History Museum in Balboa Park, Mr Sweeney seemed to have failed to realize that unless the giant dinosaur replicas came to life and started eating people, nobody actually cared about the field trip. 

Fitz ran his thumb along his knuckles, pressing down and feeling the relief when the pressure released and the knuckle popped. His mom hated when he did that, but he couldn’t break the habit no matter how hard he tried. Nobody seemed to understand that it was an instinct now, and instincts were hard to get rid of.

Just like he couldn’t explain to Mr Sweeney why he needed the music to cancel out the noise. Mr Sweeney couldn’t even hear the noise. Sure it was plenty loud in the museum, tourists and frequent visitors talking about the dinosaurs, about everything. But it was their mental voices that were the real problem. 

He could hear one person talking about the scales of the dinosaurs but he could also hear that person thinking about what they were going to have for lunch. He could hear his classmates whispering to one another about how they didn’t want to be here, but he could also hear their thoughts, all sour, and all directed towards him. 

The freak.

The anomaly.

It had been his secret, since he had fallen and hit his head when he was five years old. He couldn’t block out the noise, couldn’t ignore it, couldn’t let it go (he chided himself for the Frozen reference). He couldn’t even tell anyone else. It wasn’t like he had any friends, and even if he did, they wouldn’t understand.

“Since you’ve decided you’re above this lecture, why don’t you give it?” Fitz let loose a sigh before he could stop himself, and he could see the veins in Mr Sweeney’s forehead pop out of his skin. Mr Sweeney looked as if he was going to explode when he continued, “Explain to the class how the Lambeosaurus differs from the other dinosaurs we’ve studied.” He pointed to the enormous orange dinosaur with a duckbill in the center of the room.

Fitz rolled his eyes, not caring whether Mr Sweeney saw or not. He was so far past the point of caring what his teachers and peers thought of him that it was almost laughable. 

Fitz was smart. He knew that. That was why he was fourteen and in his senior year. He had read an information card about various dinosaurs upon entering the museum. 

As he listed off some of the facts he remembered from the pamphlet, he paid more attention to his classmates than to his own voice. He could hear their thoughts growing sour while Mr Sweeney’s eyes looked more and more like they were going to bulge out of his head. Nobody really liked Fitz. They called him Curvebuster, and made fun of his unusual name.

Fitz finished his answer, and he could hear the chorus of at least three people muttering- or thinking, because at this point he couldn’t tell the difference - “know it all” under their breath. Mr Sweeney led the class towards the next room with a scowl on his face, but Fitz didn’t follow. He stayed in the hall, with nothing but the Lambeosaurus’s plastic eyes on him. The thin wall between the rooms did a decent job of muffling the noise, so he wallowed in what little relief he could get.

“Superfreak” he heard a particularly loud thought, or rather, it sliced through his head, taking the calm with it. Garwin. He was still bitter Yale had offered Fitz a full scholarship. Garwin’s rejection letter had arrived a few weeks before. 

Not that Fitz was allowed to go. His parents said it would draw too much attention, he was going to a smaller San Diego college instead, and he had thought the matter closed until the news article showed up.

Some idiot reporter had thought it newsworthy enough to write a whole article- child prodigy chooses city college over ivy league -complete with his senior photo. His parents had freaked when they saw the article, and had even called the editor to complain. 

The editor wasn’t too happy either, as that story had been published rather than one investigating the arsonist terrorizing the city. Weird fires with white-hot flames and smoke that smelled sweet definitely took priority over some smart kid; nobody knew how the mistake had been made. 

More than half of Fitz’s rules set by his parents were to help him avoid unnecessary attention. It was why he had no color in his wardrobe, why his parents let him grow out his bangs longer than was necessary, why he hated how he was shorter than most of his classmates because it made him stand out. Usually, these rules did the trick. 

Apparently, not today. 

Across the museum (and past the Lambeosaurus, whom Fitz was pretty sure was judging him silently- the lambeosaurus knows all, sees all, the Lambeosaurus is wise beyond our imaginations) Fitz caught sight of a girl. Gasp. A girl. What is this sorcery? No. 

This girl was looking down at a newspaper, with one leg folded against the wall; her posture betraying the fact that she obviously didn’t care about anything in this museum. Fitz could see his senior photo on the cover of the newspaper and felt like he was going to burst into flames. 

The girl looked up from the newspaper, abruptly, and stared right at Fitz. He felt like there was a spotlight above his head, but then the girl blinked and the intensity in her eyes was gone. Something else remained, almost, disappointment?

The one thing that particularly interested Fitz about the girl though, were her eyes. A perfect turquoise, like gems you would only find at the bottom of the ocean, sparkling, luring you into the murky depths of the ocean, not realizing they were seducing you until you’d already drowned (okay maybe that was a little dark, this girl seemed like a decent person). Her eyes looked perfect against her shoulder length blonde hair. 

She pushed herself off the wall, folding the newspaper as she walked towards him. He took a step backwards, and saw her smile as the distance closed between them.

“This is you.” She pointed to the front of the newspaper. It wasn’t a question, so Fitz didn’t give a response.

She made a contemplative noise. Though she was a little shorter than Fitz, the vibes she gave off definitely intimidated him. But she had to be at least a few years younger, right? “Didn’t realize your eyes were brown.” 

She looked directly into his eyes then, and he felt his whole body tense. What was he supposed to say? He mentally cursed his lack of social training.

“Um… yeah. Why?” Dork.

She shrugged, “No reason.”

Fitz wasn’t sure how to respond to that either. Something was off. Was it the girl’s accent? It sounded crisp, almost British, but not really. He wasn’t sure where she had come from, and why she was talking to him. She was cute, and cute girls never looked his way.

“Um.. thanks. Are you with a class?” He regretted the question the minute it left his mouth. Nobody this pretty went to his school, and nobody this pretty from around here would even think to talk to him. 

She smiled, sweetly, innocently. He wondered if she was used to feigning a smile that she knew strangers would fall for. Her eyes sparkled. “No.”

She glanced around the museum, as if she just needed something to do with her eyes. Her eyes stopped at the Albertosaurus. “Tell me something. Do you really think that’s what they looked like? Bit absurd, don’t you think?”

It was the longest sentence he had heard from this girl so far, and he realized she spoke like she was trying to impress someone at a job interview. She definitely wasn’t from around here. “What do you think they look like then?”

The statement wasn’t intended to be accusatory, even if it sounded that way. More curious. Then again, phrasing words correctly wasn’t exactly his forte. He started fidgeting with his hands again.

Thankfully, the girl laughed. “Never mind. It was nice to meet you Fitz.” She waved and started walking back towards the wall she was leaning against when he first saw her. 

Fitz sighed, feeling slightly disappointed, but unsure with what he was disappointed with. He turned to head towards where his class had gone when his brain was struck with a tidal wave of screams.

He felt like he had just run face first into a brick wall. He backed up a few steps as a class of kindergarteners ran into the room, their screams echoing in the hall, and their mental voices tearing holes in his brain.

Stop.

Make it stop, please.

He clutched his temples and tried to shut out the sound, but it was no good. Instead, he closed his eyes while his brain tried to adjust to the screams as best as it could. 

Slowly, he eased his eyes open, only to find the girl back in front of him again. He almost screamed, but the urgency in her eyes was enough to confuse him out of screaming.

“Did you just… hear that?”

Fitz felt the blood drain from his face and panic replace it instead. 

She couldn’t mean-

The screaming kids were plenty loud, surely she couldn’t have been referring to their mental voices. They were shrieking and giggling and they were all talking and the teacher was trying to get them to quiet down and there were so many voices-

Voices. 

Fitz took another step back from the girl when he realized what was off about their earlier conversation.

He could hear everyone in the room. He could hear them speaking, and he could hear their thoughts. He could hear the girl speaking, saying something, he wasn’t paying attention. But he couldn’t hear her thoughts. 

Her mind was completely silent. 

How- Who- What?

Was that even possible?

“Who are you?” He asked, louder than was probably necessary.

She smiled, genuinely. “You did , didn’t you?” She stepped closer to him, and whispered, “You’re a telepath.”

He didn’t like that word. Goosebumps erupted over his arms, and he wrapped his arms around himself. 

His reaction gave him away. “You are! I can’t believe it. First of all, finally, second- where are you going?”

Fitz’s eyes were wide as he backed up towards the exit. He couldn’t even form a coherent thought. What was she expecting, that she could just waltz into his life and blurt out the thing he’d been hiding for nearly ten years of his life? No, she was probably crazy, and he needed to get out of here. 

He turned on his heel, probably to run, but before he could go anywhere, he felt the girl’s fingers close around his wrist. 

He flinched, and she let go. “Sorry!” She looked up at him, just staring for a few seconds. He stared back. There was something vulnerable in her stare, something deeper, something- he didn’t know. She felt like him, and that was enough to make him not run away, at least for a few more minutes. 

Of course, every part of him knew trusting a stranger that just figured out you were a telepath was a bad idea, but what was life without a few bad ideas? 

“My name’s Sophie.” So her name was normal, that was one good thing. More normal than his anyway, which wasn’t exactly difficult.

“I don’t have an ability yet, but I’m hoping to be a telepath.” She added, “like you.” As an afterthought. 

Hoping? That implied there were options? He studied her eyes again, checking to see if she was joking, or, something that made sense. 

“Oh, I’m doing this wrong, aren’t I? Um, what do I say? I’m not joking?” 

Fitz felt slightly dizzy. Maybe it was a combination of panic, the overwhelming feeling that something weird was going to happen, knowing he wouldn’t be able to live this down, that he would go the rest of his life knowing that someone else knew, and if she knows, what’s to say other people won’t figure it out?

He was breathing more heavily than he realized. He’d spent the past nine years looking for someone, to do what he could do, to understand. This girl understood and he. Couldn’t. Breathe.

Fitz felt like the world was tilting under his feet and he was going to fall off the edge, but Sophie put her hands on his shoulders and he felt steady again. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. We’ve been looking for you Fitz. For the last twelve years. In fact, Biana is going to be pissed I found you. We had a bet going, you see, and now both she and Keefe owe me and Dex five lusters. ” 

What was a luster? Where did this girl come from? And what kind of names were Biana? And Keefe? Twelve years? And who was ‘we’?

Air.

He needed air.

He tore himself from her grip and raced towards the door, shoving it open with more force than he knew he had in his whole body. He guessed all that time he spent… not doing push ups made him stronger than he thought he was. 

He inhaled sharply before running down the stairs outside the museum. The sweet smoke from the fires burned his sinuses, but he still ran, through the courtyard, past the wide fountain, and over the grass to the sidewalk. He heard Sophie calling after him but ignored her, trying to focus his energy on running as fast as he could away .

“Wait!” Sophie yelled. “You don’t need to be afraid-”

Fitz was halfway across the crosswalk when he heard a screech of tires, too close and too loud to be okay. His stomach felt as if it was turning in on itself.

He hadn’t looked before crossing the sidewalk and now there was a car speeding towards him. It was slowing down but he knew, he heard from the panicked thoughts of the driver, that it wasn’t going to slow down in time. 

Fitz couldn’t move.

He was going to die. 

Chapter Text

Fitz decided that no matter what anyone said otherwise, road safety was important and he was never crossing another street again, ever. Unsupervised. And angry. Which he was. Also he was about to die.

The next few seconds were a blur.

Fitz felt useless, his limbs paralyzed with fear while the car sped towards him. In what seemed like the last seconds before he would have been hit, the car swerved in a last-ditch effort to avoid colliding with him, and it worked. The car sideswiped a streetlight before coming to a stop, and for a moment, Fitz exhaled.  

He wasn’t going to die.

He was going to be fine.

And it was like the universe was laughing in his face. ‘hA’, said the universe, as the streetlight above him plummeted towards him like when he would launch a pair of socks down the stairs. Fast, and of certain doom for his unsuspecting sister, sitting at the bottom. In this situation, he was his sister, only the pair of socks was a lot bigger, and a lot heavier. 

He felt a rush of adrenaline, complimented by a great desire to not die , and then his arm was raised, like he was in a superhero comic. He felt a pull in his gut, instinctively forcing out the energy through his fingertips and he opened his eyes. The streetlight hadn’t hit him. 

Huh. That's cool. 

The lantern floated above him, and it looked, it looked as if Fitz was somehow supporting it without actually touching it. Like- like telekinesis , said the overeager voice in his head. Fitz shook off the thought. 

“Jesus, first you make me run half a mile, then you decide to almost die? Put the lantern down Fitzy.” A sarcastic voice brought him out of his shock-induced trance, and he lowered his arm without thinking. He yelped when the streetlight continued its plummet towards his face.

“No!” Sophie screamed, yanking him out of the way a split second before the lantern would have dented his face. Instead it crashed on the ground, shattered glass flying all over the street. 

The force Sophie had used to drag him out of the way had obviously been overestimated, for as soon as he was out of harm’s way, they both tumbled onto the sidewalk. 

Fitz’s body cushioned her fall, which he was grateful for, this was his fault after all, but the piercing feeling in his tailbone made it hard to be appreciative of the pain he had saved her from. 

Fitz grunted, and opened his eyes. His brown eyes met her turquoise, and he stared for a few seconds, replaying the previous events in his mind. He tried to sort through the frenzy of questions and confused statements and sarcastic comments (permanent residents) running through his brain, but that didn’t work.

“How did you do that?” Sophie asked incredulously, rolling off of Fitz onto the sidewalk. She shook off her hair and picked herself up from the ground. She leaned down and offered a hand to Fitz, smiling so genuinely that he couldn’t have refused even if he wanted to.

She dragged him off the ground and he brushed dust from his pants. 

“I have no idea.” he answered honestly.

“Huh, well.” She shrugged, “We’ll figure that out later. For now, we need to get out of here.” She jerked a thumb towards the car, whose driver was now leaning out the passengers seat, his face displaying the same level of shock that Fitz was feeling.

Fitz felt the blood drain from his face. “He saw.”

Sophie only nodded, and grabbed his hand. Fitz felt like the whole world was spinning underneath him, so he didn’t resist when she dragged him in some unknown direction to figure out a plan.

His mind shifted back into focus when they reached an intersection. “Which way?” Sophie asked. 

Fitz pointed north, towards the San Diego Zoo, where there was sure to be a crowd. He wasn’t sure he wanted to be alone with her right now.

So they walked towards the zoo. For the first time in his life, Fitz found himself missing hearing thoughts. He had no idea what she wanted, where she came from, what she could do. If he had some wacky powers, and she knew about them, who was to say she couldn’t do equally weird things too? 

His head spun, and he sat down on a bench. Sophie took a few more steps, then turned around, realizing he wasn’t beside her anymore. She didn’t say anything, just sat beside him. She put a hand on his knee, and he moved away.

“I’m sorry.” she said.

Fitz turned to face her. “I know, this must be so, so weird for you, and I didn’t think I would find you today or I would have a better explanation prepared for you, and-” She sighed, dragging a hand over her face.

“Why are you here?” Fitz meant to say something comforting, but his mouth betrayed him, as it so often did. 

That did seem to be an easier thing to respond to than words of comfort, and Sophie looked steady when she replied, “I don’t really know much. My best friend’s dad sent me and her to look for a specific boy your age, and I was supposed to observe and report back to him. I wasn’t supposed to talk to you, but here we are.” She laughed weakly.

“He’s probably going to kill me, but it’s fine. I found you, so he won’t be too mad, right?” She chuckled to herself. “But when I saw you, I just couldn’t figure you out. You don’t make sense.”

Fitz felt somewhat offended. “What does that mean?”

“I mean- you’re different from what I expected. Shorter.” Fitz scowled. “ Older .” She laughed. “Yeah we totally estimated your age wrong, whoops. Oh well. It was your eyes that really threw me off.”

“What’s wrong with my eyes?” Fitz reached up self consciously and brushed his fingertips over his closed eyelids.

“We all have blue eyes.” She said it as if it was the most natural thing in the world, which it was not . Fitz was so confused. He also was pretty sure she was implying that we, -which encompassed both of them- were part of something that wasn’t precisely human. That was too big of a concept for him to wrap his head around at the moment, so he just listened. “So when I saw you, I assumed we had the wrong guy again. But we didn’t, I won the bet.” 

She sang out the last sentence while doing a funny little dance to accompany it. Fitz felt a bit of the pressure ease from his chest, and a small smile crept onto his face.

But he had to ask. “What do you mean by ‘one of us’?” 

She could probably see how much he was not looking forward to the answer of that question, but she still spoke: “Yeah. So. About that” She pointed at nothing, and looked down at her lap. She was silent for a few seconds, then inhaled and began talking as if she had downed two red bulls during the silence. 

“We’re not human, Fitz. But not in a bad way. We aren’t like, aliens or anything. We aren’t going to take over the world. Technically we are the superior species but we aren’t evil. At least I don’t think so? Keefe’s dad is pretty sketchy, but other than that I think we’re pretty good. I’m so sorry you look like you’re going to throw up.”

Good, because that was exactly how he felt. Somehow, a shaky laugh eased its way out of his throat. “Not human. Riiiiiight. And I’m not a freak either.”

Sophie looked confused. “You’re not? A freak. You’re not a freak. You just don’t yet know where you belong.” 

Fitz, who had been on the verge of leaving this weirdo behind, stopped. “Where I belong?”

She smiled softly. “Yeah. Think about it.” she rose from the bench. “Can humans do this?” She closed her eyes and vanished. 

She only disappeared for a second, but it was a long enough second to leave him gasping and spiraling. He pressed his hands to the sides of his head, sure he was imagining things. But he knew he wasn’t. She had just disappeared and everything he knew about the world was wrong. 

“I can’t do that.” he settled for a weak statement of the obvious, dropping his hands.

Sophie smiled wide, her eyes bright and genuine. “You have no idea what you can do when you set your mind to it. Think of what you did to that pole a few minutes ago.” 

The pole. Fitz had nearly forgotten about that incident. He was distracted and momentarily hoped the driver didn’t recognize either of them enough to contact his family. 

But he had lifted that lantern. He hadn’t touched it, but he lifted it.

It made sense, and he hated that.

But if he wasn’t human.

What was he?

Chapter Text

“So… we’re… aliens?” It was the only coherent sentence he could form, and even then it was a miserable excuse for a response. But then again, being told one isn’t human definitely interferes with basic brain functions.

Sophie hesitated for a minute, then erupted into laughter.

Fitz wasn’t sure what was funny about the situation, but he was also relieved because her laughter definitely confirmed he wasn’t an alien. 

There would be far too many logistical complications that came with being an alien. It made his head hurt to think about it.

“No,” Sophie said, catching her breath. “We’re elves .”

“Elves.” Fitz repeated, sounding out the word, hoping that would make it sound right in his head. It did not. All he could picture were small creatures in tights with pointy ears, wrapping gifts in the North Pole. Fitz remembered how tall he was, then concluded there was a possibility that he actually could be a North Pole Elf. He elected to ignore that train of thought.

“Do you believe me?”

“Do you expect me to?” Fitz shot back.

Sophie sighed. “I guess that's fair.” She shrugged, “I’m telling you the truth, though. I’m not sure what else to say. Curse my lack of preparation.” She laughed.

“Okay. We’re elves. Am I supposed to help Frodo destroy the ring and save Middle-Earth? Or are we going to wrap presents in the North Pole?” Fitz couldn’t help but be sarcastic, and judging from the way Sophie sighed, he wasn’t being too helpful either. 

But she was smiling slightly, so he supposed his response wasn’t the worst he could have given. “Would it help if I showed you?”

Fitz felt betrayed by his heart, which was skipping rope at the thought of being shown, shown what? That he was an elf? Revealing his true form? Fitz shuddered at the thought of having a different appearance. He was already short enough. But what if he shrunk even more and grew pointy ears? Or what if he grew? That sounded appealing.

“Just to be clear, you aren’t showing me like- any alternate forms right?” Fitz asked before he could stop himself.

Sophie laughed. “Nope, you’re stuck with that.” She gestured to him. “Though, you could have worse problems.”

Fitz supposed that was fair. “So, what are you showing me then?”

Instead of replying, Sophie reached into her pocket and pulled out a slender silver wand with carvings etched onto the sides. At the tip, a small, round crystal reflected the sunlight right into Fitz’s eyes.

He squinted, and moved so the angle would be different. “Is that your magic wand?” He couldn’t resist asking.

Sophie scoffed, “It’s a pathfinder.”

“Let me guess, it ‘helps you find your way’.” Fitz rolled his eyes.

“I like sarcastic you better than scaredy-boy-doesn’t-know-where-he-belongs you. Stay this way, Fitzy.” Sophie spun the crystal and latched it into place.

“Don’t call me-”

Sophie waved him off. “Yeah, yeah.” Then her expression hardened. “Now, this can be dangerous. Do you promise to do exactly what I tell you to?”

Fitz was momentarily startled by the seriousness of her tone, usually so light and joking. He nodded. “What do I have to do?”

“You need to take my hand and concentrate on holding on. By concentrate, I mean don’t think about anything else- no matter what. Not your messy hair, not my lovely face, not your non-human ness. Nothing. Got it?”

Fitz’s hair looked fine, no matter what she said. He smiled anyway, “Yeah, sure. Why?”

Sophie turned her head to face him. He was startled by the fact that she was shorter than him, not many people were. Her personality seemed to magnify her presence though, giving her a much larger spirit than physical form. “Do you want proof or not?”

Fitz wanted proof. He desperately wanted proof. He couldn’t deny it, he had always wanted answers to why he was like this, why no other human could do what he did. His not being human provided a decent explanation, but he struggled to believe anything that he couldn’t prove. And since the small girl with a magic wand had a way to show him he wasn’t broken, he wasn’t going to throw away that chance.

So he nodded. What was the worst that could happen? She whisked him away to some magic elf land and he got home late? 

Other Fitz would have panicked at the thought of his parents, who would have surely been informed that he wasn’t with the rest of the class by now. This Fitz, the one who apparently wasn’t human, just shook off the thought and laced his fingers with Sophie’s. 

He would deal with everything else later. 

Sophie glanced over her shoulder at the empty street. “We’re alone. We go on three. Are you ready?”

“What happens on three?”

“You’ll see.” She smirked, and he felt his heart skip a few beats.

“One.” Sophie raised the wand, letting sunlight hit the crystal at the top. Instead of blinding Fitz, this time the light lit up a square of pavement. 

“Two.” Fitz gripped her hand tighter.

“Three.”

Nothing happened. Then, Sophie dragged Fitz forward, into the light, and a tingly feeling shot through his entire body. The light was warm, like an all-encompassing hug that he could feel through every part of his body. He felt like the light was taking him apart, and when the dust finally settled, he would have been re-made. So he focused on Sophie, on her hand, gripping him to reality, the only thing keeping him from being drawn apart by the light. 

Then the warmth disappeared and he opened his eyes.

His mouth dropped open, and he gasped.

They were standing at the edge of a stream which glittered when the light struck the waters. It was lined with trees too tall to be allowed, their leaves looked like they could touch the clouds if they stretched. Across the river though, were lines of crystal castles that had Fitz doing a double take to make sure all of this was real. He felt like he was in Disney World, only a bazillion times more magical. On his right there was a golden path that led to a city built from jewels. Fitz wondered how anyone could live in a place so beautiful. 

And the air. It smelled like cinnamon and sweetness and this entire place was too beautiful to be real. 

“You can let go now, pretty boy.”

Fitz nearly jumped out of his skin, having forgotten he was still holding on to Sophie. He untangled their fingers messily, his head still reeling, trying to take in all the scenery around him. There was something about the way the towers twisted on the castles that seemed quite familiar, though Fitz couldn’t really put a finger on it. He dismissed it as looking similar to a picture he saw online. 

“Where are we?” The question was out of his mouth before he realized he wanted to know the answer.

“Our capital. We call it Eternalia, but you might have heard it be called Shangri-la before. I personally prefer Eternalia. Much fancier.” 

“Shangri-la,” Fitz repeated, seeing how the word felt on his tongue. “Shangri-la is real?”

“All the lost cities are real. They probably don’t look anything like you’ve pictured them, though. Human stories hardly get anything right, just think of all the weird stories you’ve heard about elves.” Sophie laughed.

Fitz decided that the next time he saw Sophie, he should bring a notebook to try and keep track of all the weird stuff happening in her world. The thought confused him, making him wonder if he was going to see her again after this, what the point of taking him here was. 

But she had told him he was an elf. That meant this wasn’t just her world, was it? It was his too.

He shook off the idea. It was so quiet where they were, their voices being the only sound besides the ruffling of the leaves on the trees. He supposed he had gotten so used to humans being everywhere, talking, driving, even just working, that silence was… unexpected. He liked it, but it felt strange. Like something was missing.

“Where is everyone?” he looked into the jeweled city, just to make sure there was nobody roaming the streets, that he hadn’t missed anything. He hadn’t. The streets were completely empty. He couldn’t even see any shadows roaming the buildings.

Sophie gestured towards the tallest building that looked like it was built out of emeralds. This building was less shiny than the rest, but that didn’t downplay its magnificence. More so translated it into a different emotion. Less awe and more seriousness. Important things were sure to happen in that building. “See the blue banner? That means there is a tribunal in progress. Everyone’s watching it happen.”

“A… tribunal?”

“It’s when the council -like our government- holds a hearing to decide if someone has broken a law. They’re kind of a big deal when they happen, which is why everyone is watching.”

So humanity’s imminent need to know what is going on in everyone else’s life is also an elf thing. Great. “Why?”

Sophie shrugged. “Doesn’t happen very often. Laws are rarely broken.”

Now that was strange. Humans broke the law all the time. 

If he was thinking of humans as something different than him now, but also elves as something different, then what was he? Floating around in the void, trying to find pen and paper to make sense of it all? 

He made a mental note to add the “laws rarely broken” thing to his list of weird Elvin things.

“So, how we got here? It’s… magic?”

Sophie looked at him weirdly, then laughed. Like not even a giggle, a full on body laugh. Fitz glared at her. She was obviously making fun of him and he didn’t like that.

“No. It’s not magic. Magic is what humans say to explain things they can’t understand.” 

Fitz supposed that made sense. “So. If it isn’t magic, how are we here when five minutes ago we were in San Diego?”

Sophie held up the pathfinder. “Light leaping. We grabbed on to a beam of light that was heading here, so it took us with it.”

Fitz turned slowly to face her, mouth agape. “That’s impossible.”

“Can’t be, we’re here aren’t we?”

“Yeah, but- you need infinite energy for light travel. Haven’t you heard of the theory of relativity?”

“No. And, there’s probably a reason that’s just a theory.” Sophie picked at her nails.

Fitz was torn between screaming and panicking. It was possible he was doing both. She had never heard of the theory of relativity. “Have you at least heard of Albert Einstein? He came up with it?”

Sophie scoffed. “No, he’s dumb.”

Fitz’s mind was whirling, and he wasn’t sure how the conversation had gotten here so fast. One minute the world around him was beautiful, the next, everything he had ever learned was wrong? Albert Einstein was dumb?

He looked again at Sophie, to see if she was just messing with him, but her stance was confident, sure of what she was saying. She rolled her eyes and grabbed his hand.

“Concentrate harder this time.”

He closed his eyes and waited for the warm blanket hug of the light. But this time it felt more like he was being scattered in a million different directions, like there was wind in the beam of light and he had failed to keep it out. He panicked, but then something else engulfed him, shutting out the wind, and the blanket returned. A second later he was standing on solid ground, a shiver rocking his body and his hair being blown out of his eyes.

He let go of Sophie’s hand to try and flatten his bangs while still looking around. Sophie pointed to the massive castle in front of them, which was glowing, alit with a light softer than that from the sun. 

“How do you think we got here?”

Fitz was baffled. His senses knew that it had felt like the light was passing through him, scattering him and then putting him back together again in a different spot. But if that was true, then every science book he had ever read was wrong. He didn’t know what would be better or worse, admitting all his knowledge was wrong, or denying the possibility that this incredible world was real.

“You look confused.” Sophie stated, going back to staring at her nails.

“You’re literally telling me, “Hey, Fitz! You’re not human, and also, everything you’ve ever known about the world is wrong!”” He did a pathetic high-pitched imitation of her voice, which made her scowl at him when she replied.

“First, I do not sound like that.” 

“Sure you don’t.”

The glare she gave him could have obliterated forests. “Second, that is exactly what I am saying.” She flashed a smug grin, which he preferred to the death glare, even though her expression did not help his existential crisis. “Humans do the best they can, but their minds can’t even begin to grasp the complexities of reality.”

Fitz thought that if she had to navigate the confusing-ass systems humans had created for themselves, even for things like money, her head would surely explode. No matter what she said, human brains could definitely grasp some unnecessary complex realities. 

He settled for a pathetic response. “And what? Elves’ minds are better?”

“Of course,” Sophie said as if it was obvious, and Fitz felt his stomach do a flip. “Why do you think you’re so far ahead of your class? The slowest elf can still trump a human- even one with no proper education.”

Fitz curled into himself as the meaning of her words settled in his brain. 

If she was right- which she probably was- then he was just some stupid kid who knew nothing about anything. 

Well he still knew how to make a sandwich, so maybe it wasn’t all bad.

And he wasn’t just a kid anymore.

He was an elf.

Chapter Text

So, quite literally, Fitz’s entire life was a lie. Humans liked to say that, sometimes when they learned a particularly astonishing fact that left their brains whirling, grasping at puzzle pieces in attempts to fit them together again. Fitz was trying to do that now, but with no success.

Sophie nudged his arm. “It’s not your fault. You believed what they taught you” she shrugged, “I’m sure I’d have done the same if our roles were reversed. At least now you know the truth about how the world really works. It’s not magic. It is our unfortunate reality.”

Fitz’s mind was trying to piece together a reply that didn’t make him sound like a wimp when the sound of the castle bells chimed, and Sophie yanked him behind a large rock. 

Once they had managed to coordinate how both Sophie and Fitz’s gangly limbs would fit behind the rock, he peered over the top, watching as the gateway opened. Two elves- that didn’t look too different from regular humans, Fitz thought- with floor-length velvet capes draped over their black tunics, emerged from the large doors. They didn’t seem to be overheating at all, from what Fitz could see, and he wasn’t sure how they were able to function with that much fabric over their bodies. Surely they were overheating and dying. 

But, he had forgotten the most important thing. They were elves , so surely this “advanced, intelligent species” had some fancy-schmancy-sparkly way to make sure they weren’t dripping with sweat underneath their cloaks. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and made a mental note to figure out if his sarcastic jibe had any truth to it. He hoped elves had deodorant, at least, because ew.

The regal elves were followed by dozens of bizarre creatures marching in what looked like a military formation down the rocky path. The creatures were all at least seven feet tall and wore only black pants- all male, Fitz scoffed. If this “true world” was still filled with unnecessary gender prejudices like the humans’ was, he was going to flip his- leaving their muscled torsos on display. For whom? Fitz did not know. And he didn’t let his mind spend too long on that train of thought, because that was just weird. 

The creatures had flat noses and coarse gray skin, so they definitely weren’t elves, or anything close to that. They looked like some sort of hybrid alien-armadillo. That conjured a mental image that left Fitz wishing he could scrub the inside of his head out with soap.

“Goblins,” Sophie whispered, sounding excited. “Probably some of the most dangerous creatures you’ll ever meet- though Verdi, and the ogres would disagree with me- which is why it is a good thing they signed the Peace Treaty.”

“If they signed a Peace Treaty, then why are we hiding?” Fitz whispered back. He felt like a scene out of a movie, and his body couldn’t help being jittery with excitement. A completely new intelligent species and war alliances? His mind strained to remember all of this so he could write it down when he got his hands on some paper.

He swore that if elves only used quills and ink like they did in Harry Potter he was going to renounce the species once and for all. So impractical. He shuddered internally at the thought.

“We’re dressed like humans.” Sophie responded, dragging him out of his painful lack-of-pens mental scenario. “Humans are forbidden in the Lost Cities- especially here, in Lumenaria. Lumenaria is where all the worlds come together. Gnomes, dwarves, ogres, goblins, trolls, even humans, back when they were allowed.”

So there were more intelligent species? Fitz had a lot to learn, and he was kind of looking forward to it. The prospect of all these different histories that he had no idea about was almost enough to distract from the panic that had settled almost permanently into his bones from the “you aren’t human” revelation from about five minutes ago. Almost. “Why are humans forbidden?” 

Sophie opened her mouth to answer, then hesitated and clamped her jaw shut. She pressed a finger to her lips and with the other hand, gestured for him to follow her to a different rock, farther away from the castle. They squatted behind it- or well, Sophie squatted, Fitz nearly fell over several times trying to arrange his limbs behind the rock in a way that kept all parts of him hidden. Once he was semi stable, Sophie spoke. 

“They betrayed us. The Ancient Councillors-” Cue split screen fantasy background music. “Offered them the same treaty they made with all the intelligent creatures, and they agreed. Then they decided they wanted to rule the world- because it totally works that way -and started planning a war. The Ancients didn’t want violence, so they disappeared, forbid any contact with humans, and left them to their own devices. You can see how well that’s worked out for them.” She scoffed, but Fitz was hesitant to respond. 

He could see her point, humans did have a lot of problems, and were an unnecessarily violent species. But at the same time, her story was told the way the winning side of the war described their battle. They left out their faults, their mistakes, and told only what would make them look best. Fitz suspected there was a lot being left out during whatever history class Sophie was taking, and that there was definitely another reason humans turned on the elves. 

So, the elvin world was already massively flawed. Excellent. Why was he here again? Ah, right. This is where he belongs . 

“The stories told by the humans who’d known us must’ve sounded impossible after we disappeared, and throughout time they’ve somehow evolved into the crazy myths you’ve heard. But this ,” Sophie gestured to the land around them, “this is the truth, Fitz. This is who you are. This is- okay, okay, we’re getting all sappy destiny nonsense now. But did the explanation make sense?”

Who you are. Where you belong.

“I’m really an elf.” he repeated slowly.

Sophie nodded.

“You’re not just messing with me?”

“No. Why would I-”

“I’m not going to wake up and find out this is just some wacky dream?”

“I doubt your subconscious could conjure anyone as beautiful as me.” Sophie tossed her hair over her shoulder. Fitz admitted she was right, and immediately denied ever having the thought.

He sighed. “Okay. I believe you.”

“Yay!” Sophie clapped her hands together like an excited five year old. Fitz rolled his eyes, but he found it slightly endearing at the same time. He wished he could be that excited sometimes, it makes him feel broken when he realizes he’s stopped appreciating the little things in life. But Sophie is so, so whole , that it makes him feel as if he could be put back together too.

“Ready to go home?” Sophie looked up to meet his eyes, and he could see a little spark of sadness in their turquoise depths. He understood. No part of him wanted to leave his newfound fantasy universe. He felt like if he left, he could so easily convince himself that it was all a dream.

But Mr Sweeney would have called his mom when Fitz didn’t get on the bus. Or he doesn’t care enough about you to notice, Fitz’s brain suggested unhelpfully. Fitz told his brain to shut up. He needed to get home before his mom freaked. 

Still, his heart sank a little. Real life seemed so bland and tasteless after what he had just seen. He was reminded of “A Whole New World” from Aladdin and decided he needed to go home and have caffeine. Did elves have coffee? He wasn’t sure he would be able to survive without it.

That was a problem for another day. He nodded at Sophie, took her hand, and let the blinding light sweep them away. 

Fitz knew where they were before he even opened his eyes. He inhaled and immediately choked on the smoky ash particles in the air. Compared to the crisp air of Lumenaria, the familiar polluted air of his neighborhood was a serious downgrade, he thought, and then felt a twinge of guilt. How had he already begun to prefer the Elven world over his home?

A dry cough made him remember where he was, and more importantly: who he was with. Sophie’s small frame shook when she coughed, and she looked up to try and blink the ash from her eyes. She glared at the sky, “You’d think humans could handle putting out a few fires before their fragile lungs collapse from smoke pollution.”

Well, she wasn’t wrong. Humans were extremely fragile, and their- our, Fitz corrected himself -world was polluted enough as it was. Still, he felt a need to defend his- not species, not friends. His home. “They’re working on it. Besides, these aren’t normal fires. The arsonist used some sort of chemical when they started them, so the flames are burning white hot, and the smoke smells sweet.” 

What Fitz didn’t know was why the town was turning such a blind eye to the fires. It wasn’t as if they were a regular occurrence, and they were certainly just as dangerous as normal fires, if not more. He had woken up in the middle of the night several times, repeating the steps he’d made up in his head for what he’d do if the fires ever got close to his home. How he’d protect his family, what things they would need to survive. Sure, he was a little paranoid, but he didn’t care so long as his family wasn’t hurt. 

“Arsonists,” Sophie repeated, enunciating each syllable as if the word was foreign to her. “Why would anyone want to watch the world burn?”

Fitz supposed it would be rather pretty, before the pain started, at least. But that just made him concerned for his own mental well being, so he shoved the thought aside. 

“I don’t know,” he answered instead. His head remained clear of thoughts for a few seconds;  the most since he was five. He wished he would have relished in the silence a little bit more before it was gone. 

“All right, well,” Sophie sighed. Her tone was resigned. Fitz was sure that meant she was leaving. “It was lovely meeting you Fitzy, not gonna lie, you weren’t what I was expecting at all, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing.” 

Fitz didn’t know what to do with that statement, so he let it slide off his shoulders. “Are you leaving now?” he asked, trying to keep his voice completely void of emotion. 

“Yeah, unfortunately. Well not too unfortunately because this air quality sucks .” She coughed and looked around. “Yeah, I don’t know how humans are surviving here. Anyways, I have to find out what Biana’s dad wants us to do now- if he even knows I’ve found you. None of us thought you were going to be the guy.”

Biana? The guy? That made him sound like someone important.

He wished he could hear her thoughts, so he would know what she meant by that. But her mind was still a silent mystery, and he had no idea why. 

“Alden is not going to be happy that I took you to our cities.” Sophie laughed it off, but Fitz could see a bit of fear behind her eyes. “Yeah, even though I was careful no one saw us.” She shook her head, and then looked back up at Fitz. Her eyes were so intense he almost flinched.

“Please don’t tell anyone about anything I’ve shown you today.”

Who would he tell? It’s not like Fitz has a best friend he tells everything to, or even a family member he has a trusting relationship with. But he couldn’t say that. “I won’t.” he settled for, and then held her gaze for a few seconds so she’d know he was sincere.

Sophie released a breath Fitz hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Thank you. Oh! Make sure you act normal so your family doesn’t suspect anything either.”

You’d think they just committed a crime or something. He couldn’t decide whether that was more or less interesting than what he had just seen. 

He nodded, and then swallowed his anxieties for long enough to ask. “Why can’t I hear your thoughts?”

Sophie hesitated, and then sighed. “I still can’t believe you’re a telepath. Y’know nobody betted on that. I don’t know whether that is a relief or a disappointment.”

Fitz smiled, he couldn’t help it. “Are all elves telepaths?” 

“No. Unfortunately. I’d kill to be a telepath.” She smiled, “Not literally, of course, but you know what I mean. It’s a special ability, one of the rarer ones. And you’re only, what? How old are you?” She looked at him hesitantly.

He blinked. “Fourteen.”

“Oh, well. That’s normal, actually. How old were you when you manifested?”

Manifested? Like came into existence? He was born, not summoned from the depths of hell. “What do you mean, manifested?”

“Like, how old were you when you started hearing thoughts?”

That made more sense. “Five.” 

Sophie’s face went completely blank. “How… old?” She squeaked, as if she didn’t believe her own words.

Fitz felt his face heat up. Had he done something wrong? “Five.” he repeated again, hesitantly.

Sophie’s eyes widened. “ Five? ” She yelled. He was pretty sure all the houses on the street shook from the impact of her voice.

Nerves flooded Fitz’s mind. Was that bad? Had he done something wrong? Was he a messed up elf? Dysfunctional? Broken? 

“Are you sure?” Sophie asked, softer this time.

Fitz nodded. Waking up in the hospital after he’d hit his head wasn’t something he’d forget anytime soon. He was hooked up to all sorts of crazy machines, with his parents hovering over him, shouting things he could barely separate from the voices filling his mind. All he could do was cry and hold his head- as if that would block out the voices -and try to explain what was happening to a group of adults that couldn’t understand, would never understand. No one could make the voices go away, and he’d been hearing them ever since.

“Is that… a bad thing?” He asked, because he didn’t like the concern etched between Sophie’s brows.

“I don’t know,” Sophie answered slowly enough that Fitz could see she was being honest. 

Fitz didn’t want to talk about this anymore. He realized she still hadn’t answered his question, so he tried again. “Why can’t I hear your thoughts?”

Sophie met his eyes, and smiled softly. “Have you tried listening for them?”

The statement struck Fitz like a punch to the gut. Why would he try to hear thoughts? Human’s thoughts had always come to him without asking, why should she be any different? Because she’s an elf, whispered a voice in the back of his mind. 

“Humans’ minds are weak, their thoughts will flood your mind without you even trying to read them. But with me, with elves, just trust your instincts. Concentrate. If I’ve heard enough from Biana’s dad- and believe me I have -you’ll know what to do. Just, try.”

Fitz was slightly annoyed. He didn’t like being told what to do, especially because she hadn’t answered his question. But he had to admit, finding out what she was hiding did sound promising. Now all he had to do was figure out what she meant by “trust your instincts.”

He shook out the tension in his body. He couldn’t help but welcome a challenge, as it had been so long since he truly had to try to achieve something.

He started by focusing on Sophie’s forehead. That’s where the thoughts were, right? He pretended he was stretching out his entire presence, to fall like a shadow over Sophie’s. After a second or so, a higher pitched melodic voice swept through his thoughts. It wasn’t sharp or loud like human thoughts, it was more of a soft whisper dancing through his brain. 

“I am not that short!” Fitz snapped, but he was smiling so as to contradict his harsh tone.

Sophie laughed, leaning over and clutching at her stomach. “Yes you are,” she gasped out in between giggles.

“Shut up.”

She laughed for a few more seconds, and then straightened, still with a massive grin spread from ear to ear. “You did it, Fitzy!”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Yeah, yeah whatever you say Fitzy. But the point is, you read my mind! Now obviously that’s not exactly ethically sound at random times, but since I asked you to try, we’ll consider this a win!” She held up a hand like she was drawing on a chalkboard. “Fitz: 1, Universe: 0”

Huh. He’d never really thought of reading minds as a violation of privacy before. He supposed it was because he couldn’t really stop the humans’ thoughts from flooding his brain, but when he actually had to try to read peoples’ minds, he would be better off not hearing their thoughts without permission. As for the tally, Fitz really hoped it would stay that way. 

He applauded her scoreboard, and then remarked on how she had used her left hand to draw. He didn’t know very many left handed people, so he always thought it was cool when people were left handed, or even ambidextrous. 

Sophie sighed. “Well, I do actually have to leave now. Alden might kill me, if Keefe doesn’t first. I’ve never been gone this long, they probably think I’ve been kidnapped or something.”

“Do you want me to punch you so it looks like you got into a fight with a human?” Fitz joked, and then immediately stopped. He had never joked casually with a friend, or even another person that didn’t have the sense of humor of a middle aged man. He didn’t know if he was crossing a line or not.

To Fitz’s relief, Sophie simply laughed. “While that would be pretty damn hilarious to see the reactions of, I’d really rather not get punched in the face.”

Fitz shrugged, so if to say: that's fair. He wanted to ask if she’d be back soon, but what came out instead was: “Do you think we could be friends, Sophie? Maybe one day.” He wanted to clamp his hands over his mouth the second the words were released into the air, but it was too late for that.

Sophie smiled. “Of course Fitzy. I don’t give out nicknames lightly, you know.” She waved her pathfinder at him, and he watched the light reflect off the crystal into her eyes.

She winced, nearly dropping the magic wand, and Fitz laughed.

Sophie glared at him teasingly as she held up the crystal to the light. “I’ll be back tomorrow,” she said. “I might even bring a friend.”

Fitz elected to ignore the anxiety that came with the prospect of meeting another elf in order to smile and wave at Sophie as she stepped towards the beam of light.

“How will I find you?” he asked, just before she disappeared. 

She met his gaze, and flashed a small smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll find you.”

Chapter Text

“There you are!” 

Fitz flinched at the high volume of her voice, even though his Mom’s panicked thoughts had been growing aggressively louder as he approached the living room. He entered and found his mom still on the phone, her hair tangled and eyes wild.

“Yes, he’s home now,” she said into the receiver. “Don’t worry, I’ll be having a very long talk with him.”

That day, Fitz had been: approached by a stranger in a museum who knew his deepest darkest secret, been told that he wasn’t human, been taken to elf land, saw goblins - because those are real -but his heart still jolted upon hearing a threat from his mother.

He swallowed thickly as his mom hung up the phone and turned around, reeling. Her green eyes were wide and glaring daggers into his skull. 

“That was Mr Sweeney calling because he couldn’t find you at the museum.” Huh. He didn’t expect Mr Sweeney to notice he’d disappeared, or even report his absence. Mr Sweeney was probably glad to see him gone, if Fitz was being honest. But his mother didn’t need to know that. “What were you thinking, wandering off like that- especially now, with the fires making everyone nervous?”

Well, not nervous enough to deal with them, apparently. Fitz scoffed internally. His mind was already cracking it’s knuckles, prepared to go off on a rant about how flawed the way humans chose to run their democratic systems is. Fitz waved it off, though. If his mother noticed him drifting off during her lecture, he would be grounded for a year instead of the few months she was already contemplating. 

“Did you have any idea how worried I was?” He didn’t see the point in hypothetical questions like these- “And Mr Sweeney was about to call the police!” 

That declaration stunned Fitz into silence for a few seconds. “I- I’m sorry,” he stumbled, buying a few seconds to come up with a convincing lie. “I… got scared.”

Really? That was the best he could come up with? Pathetic. Honestly. 

His mom’s anger faded to concern, and she tugged nervously at her curly brown hair. Fitz ran his thumbs over his knuckles anxiously, but he already had many times that day, so he probably wouldn’t get the satisfying pop anytime soon. “Scared of what? Did something happen?”

And now he had to back that up. Brilliant.

“I saw this person,” he started, realizing the best lies were based on the truth. He thought not to specify the age, or the gender, or the characteristics of the person. Sophie was many things, but intimidating or frightening enough to run away at a glance, she was definitely not. “They had the article about me. They started asking all these questions and it was freaking me out, so I ran away from them. And then I was scared to go back, so I walked to the trolley and took the train home.” Fitz exhaled. That was a decent excuse, right?

It must have been pretty believable, because his mom responded with a sigh, “Why didn’t you get a teacher or a museum guard—or call the police?”

Fitz thought that was a bit extreme; the last thing he would ever want was to make a scene. But saying that would only prolong the lecture and his head was hurting from his mother’s frenzied thoughts- he didn’t know how much longer he could last. 

“I guess I didn’t think of that.” he responded, staring at his feet. His shoes were stained. He didn’t like that. “I just wanted to get away.”

He tangled his hands together and startled when his knuckles popped, releasing some of the pressure inside of him.

“Ugh- stop doing that.” his mom complained, closing her eyes and shaking her head. She took a deep breath. Fitz was suddenly overcome with a wave of guilt, so he looked up and met her eyes. 

His mom’s expression softened when she saw the honest guilt in his expression, and she pulled him into a hug. He exhaled. This is what safety feels like, he thought, and then was overwhelmed with a flood of images. 

Sophie and the elf world, the glittering castles and waves of wind and trees that smelled like freedom. He was an elf . So- so that would mean-

This wasn’t his real mother.

Fitz tensed, ever so slightly, but his mom didn’t notice. The hug lasted only a few seconds, and when his mom let go, her features were knitted back into their stern lecture position.

“Well, I guess the important thing is that you’re okay. But if anything like that ever happens again, I want you to run straight to an adult, do you understand?” 

Fitz nodded. 

“Good.” She rubbed the wrinkle between her brows that always appeared when she was stressed. “This is exactly why your father and I were upset about that article. It’s not safe to stand out in this world—you never know what some weirdo is going to try to do once they know where they can find you.”

Fitz didn’t know how to respond to this. It wasn’t a question, so he couldn’t give an answer. Offering his opinion would only prolong the conversation and the beginnings of another existential crisis, which he wasn’t sure he could tolerate right now. 

“I’m fine, Mom. Okay?” He just wanted to go upstairs. And lie on his bed. Possibly forever. 

His mom seemed to deflate as she let out a heavy sigh. “I know, I just wish…”

Her voice drifted off and Fitz closed his eyes, wishing he could block off the rest of the thought.

You could be normal, like your sister.

If Fitz was an amateur, he would have flinched. Instead, he stood perfectly still as the words slipped a tiny pin into his heart. It was one of the worst parts of being a telepath. Hearing what his parents really thought .

He wanted to believe his mom didn’t mean it. But thoughts didn’t usually lie, even though he knew she didn’t love him any less.

His mom wrapped him in a tight hug, and he returned the gesture, gripping her as if she were his own broken pieces that he was trying to fit back together. “Just be careful, Fitz. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you.”

“I know, Mom. I’ll try.”

A sudden pounding at the front door told Fitz that his dad had just arrived home. His mom let him go, calling out to his father.

“Welcome home, honey! I’ll have dinner ready in ten,” she shouted. “And Amy!” She added. Fitz winced as she raised her voice so it would be heard upstairs. “Time to come down!”

Fitz followed his mom into the kitchen, the familiar layout triggering unease instead of comfort in his mind. The linoleum was worn, the pastel walls were stained, the wallpaper was ripped in some places near the floor- probably Marty’s fault -and the scattered knicknacks screamed ‘tacky’. 

It all seemed so… ordinary , compared to the glittering cities Sophie had shown him today. But no matter how simple, it still felt like home. Could he really belong there?

Did he really belong here?

Fitz’s dad kissed him on the cheek before setting his shabby briefcase on the kitchen table- not quietly. “And how’s my Soybean?” he said with a wink.

Fitz rolled his eyes. That had been his nickname since he was a baby- because apparently he refused to say anything else. His parents had ended up getting him a jar of soybeans- confused as to what to do with a child that kept repeating a word they had never even said in front of him. Baby Fitz had knocked it over and they were finding soybeans scattered across the house for a year afterwards.The name just… stuck. 

He’d asked them to stop thousands of times- it didn’t even sound like his name! -but they wouldn’t listen. So he was a bean.

His mom took the lid off one of the simmering pots and the smell of garlic and cream filled the room. Fitz felt his stomach growl. Did elves have fettuccine? Or did they eat rich people's food, like rare meats and- panic shivered down his spine. Were elves… vegan? Fitz decided he would cry if they were. He added that to his mental list of things to find out about elves.

His mom handed him the silverware and the cold touch of the metal helped his thoughts fade, even if only temporarily . “It’s your turn to set the table.”

Fitz nodded in solemn acceptance, and moved around the small kitchen, placing forks and knives like it was second nature- because it was. 

“Yeah, Soybean. Get crackin’,” her sister said as she scooted into the room and plopped into her usual chair.

Amy was nine years old, and a menace, in Fitz’s opinion. She annoyed him to hell and back, but he would do anything for her and he knew she felt the same. 

But Amy was the opposite of Fitz in every way, from her curly blonde hair and green eyes (that FItz was extremely jealous of), to her lower than average grades and incredible popularity. No one understood how they could possibly be related, let alone siblings, but Fitz and Amy were quite close, despite what it looked like. Sometimes, even their parents wondered about it.

Despite all of that, the silverware slipped through Fitz’s fingers. 

“Are you alright?” his mom asked, looking up from the stove. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Fitz exhaled, crouching down to pick up the fallen fork. He put that one at his spot because he didn’t care that it had been on the ground. He saw his mom purse her lips at the action, but she said nothing.

How could he and Amy be siblings? He’d never doubted it before, but Amy was definitely human. His parents were too- he’d heard enough of their thoughts to know they weren’t hiding any secret powers. He focused on the steady rhythm of his breathing. Inhale. Exhale. Repeat.

“You sure you’re okay, Soybean?” 

Fitz pulled himself together. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just felt a bit dizzy from the smoke. Do you need any help with the plates, Mom?” He wanted to go lie down, but he knew if he suggested it, their concern would only grow. That was the last thing he wanted. 

His mom shook his head, so he sat down in his chair and focused on the pattern on the plates, which was a simple design of squares. The symmetry was lovely, comforting, in a way. 

Fitz wasn’t sure whether the noise he was hearing were thoughts or voices, so he responded when necessary, either way. The noise told him he was doing a decent acting job, so at least he didn’t have to worry about that. 

The rich sauce of the fettuccine didn’t help with his sudden nausea, but the taste was always comforting. It was his favorite, after all. He devoured the meal, apparently hungry from his “day of adventure.” 

Finally, his dad set his fork down- the official end of dinner in the Foster house (because his dad was the slowest eater, though not by much. Cough cough Amy cough)- and Fitz jumped to his feet. 

He helped clear the table and left the dishes for his sister to do; he had set the table after all, so they were even. He didn’t look suspicious in any way and mentally applauded himself for that, then realized that being good at lying and acting wasn’t the most honorable skill. Still, it was useful, he reminded himself, as he made his way up the stairs to “do homework.”

He closed the door to his room and stumbled onto his bed. A sharp hiss shattered the silence. “Sorry Marty,” he whispered, his heart pounding in his ears. It was just his cat, but sudden loud noises startled him nonetheless.

The fluffy gray cat glared at him for sitting on his tail. Or maybe he just looked at him. Cats always seemed like they were glaring. Maybe they were always angry at the world. Fitz wouldn’t blame them if they were.

He reached out towards Marty and the cat slunk towards him, settling in his lap. Soft purrs filled the silence and made Fitz realize that denial was pointless. 

His family couldn’t be his family.

He took a deep breath and let his thoughts take over. 

The strange thing was, it did actually make sense. It explained why he always felt so out of place among them- a short, brown, brunette among a family of tall white people. An academic genius, but the rest of them were average. He wasn’t even saying this to insult them. It was just true and that’s why it was so strange.

Still, they were the only family he knew. 

And if they weren’t his family… who was?

Could he have random parents… out there, somewhere? Living their lives, knowing he existed, knowing he wasn’t even in the same world as them, and not giving a care in the world?

Panic closed off his chest and he let himself fall back, lying down. The weight of Marty crawling onto his stomach was familiar and matched the pressure he was feeling internally. 

His eyes burned with tears, but he blinked them back. Surely this wasn’t a meltdown worthy crisis? No, it probably was, but he didn’t want to be dramatic. How could he not be related to his family? He’d been hearing their thoughts for eight years- how would he not know that? Even if it was somehow possible, not being related to them didn’t change anything, did it? Lots of kids were adopted and they were part of the family just as much, if not more, than if they were biologically related to the rest of the family.

Fitz heard a soft knock, then his mom was poking her head through the door. “I brought you some E.L. Fudges.” She handed him a plate of his favorite cookies and a glass of milk, then frowned. “You look pale, Fitz. Are you getting sick?” She touched the back of her hand against his forehead. “I don’t think you have a fever, that’s good.” 

Her eyes and thoughts were full of concern and his head hurt too much to deal with tip-toeing around her emotions. “I’m fine, I’m just- tired.” he reached for a cookie, but froze when he saw it’s tiny elf face. He ate it anyways, as a silent “fuck you” to the elves, who were somehow to blame for all of this. “I think I need to go to bed.”

His mom left the room so he could change. He stumbled through his nighttime routine, so much that he couldn’t remember going through any of the actions by the time he got to his bed, but he could taste the minty flavor of his toothpaste, so he knew he brushed his teeth, at least. 

He crawled under the blankets, burying himself as far as he would go, and wished he was heavier so he would sink into the mattress more. Marty assumed a position on his pillow next to his head. Sure, this meant he had woken up with a face full of cat fur more than once, but the company was always worth it. 

“Sweet dreams, Soybean.” his dad said, kissing him on the forehead. His parents always tucked him in- another Foster family tradition. 

“Night dad.” Fitz tried to smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

His mom kissed his cheek. “Do you have Ella?”

“Yep.” He nodded his head towards an elephant-shaped lump underneath the sheets. He was probably too old to be sleeping with a stuffed animal, but he couldn’t care less. He loved Ella, everyone else be damned. Tonight, he wanted more comfort than ever. 

His mom turned off the light and the darkness gave Fitz the courage he needed. “Can I ask you guys something?”

“Sure,” his dad replied. “What’s up?”

He tugged on Ella’s trunk. “Was I adopted?”

His mom laughed as her mind flashed to the twelve hours of very painful labor she’d endured. “No, Fitz. Why would you ask that?”

“Could I have been switched at birth?” He was feeling very ballsy today, apparently. And his mouth had no filter. He was worried he might have offended his parents, but their thoughts seemed to point otherwise. 

“No, of course not.”

“Are you sure?” A thousand thoughts were going through his head and this was the one he decided to voice?

“Yes- I think I would know my own son.” There wasn’t a doubt in his mom’s mind, and that was both equally reassuring and terrifying. “What’s all this about?”

The dreaded question had arrived. “Nothing. I was just wondering. Every kid asks this at some point, you know.”

His dad laughed. “Sorry, Soybean. We’re your parents, whether you like it or not.” 

“Okay.” He agreed. 

But he wasn’t so sure anymore.

Chapter Text

Fitz dreamed that the Keebler Elves were holding him hostage until he perfected their cookie recipe. When he couldn’t do it- after several disasterly attempts -they tried to drown him in a vat of fudge so he couldn’t expose their secrets. They laughed as he struggled to swim in the thick liquid, he even saw Sophie’s smirking face before the chocolate enclosed his vision.

He woke up gasping and decided sleep was for the weak. 

When morning finally rolled around, Fitz rolled out of bed with a great struggle- both to leave the bed and then to remain upright. He brushed his teeth groggily, barely processing his surroundings as he tried to get his bearings quickly enough that he wouldn’t be late for school. When he returned to his room, he felt awake enough to consciously choose a shirt with a pattern. Still black, but with a mickey mouse on the centre, and the Disney World ensignia on the back. 

He walked over to the mirror beside his dresser, contemplating whether it was too much. The shirt wasn’t too bright, and would still allow him to blend in. Plus, they’d actually have to look down to see his eyes, let alone the pattern on his shirt. He thought it was fine.

Fitz looked himself in the eyes. “ We all have blue eyes ” Sophie’s voice echoed in his mind. Well, he certainly didn’t have blue eyes. He wondered why, then figured it was probably some sort of human thing. Maybe being born from humans as an elf messed with his eye colour, somehow. He didn’t pay that much attention when they were studying genetics in science class, but he was sure there was some sort of logical explanation behind it. 

“ Not your messy hair- ”

Fitz toyed with the idea of brushing his hair out of his eyes, and then decided against it. Nobody’s opinion mattered to him that much . Maybe just Amy’s. But Amy liked his hair, so that was that.

Sighing, he made his way out of his room. He figured he should go downstairs and check if Sophie had arrived yet. 

That made it sound like he was excited.

He wasn’t.

Passing Amy on the way down the stairs was reassuring, because she looked about as tired as he felt. “Ames,”

Amy looked up. “Morning Soybean,” she said exhaustedly. 

“Do you think my hair is nice?”

“It’s very cool Fitz.” She patted him on the head as she replied, then plopped down at the breakfast table. She folded her arms in front of her, then laid her head down and didn’t move. She’d probably gone back to sleep.

Fitz decided that if she hadn’t moved by the time he got back inside, he would wake her up. 

He crept into the front yard, rubbing his eyes. He stopped just outside the door, blinked, and then rubbed his eyes again. He knew he was tired, but he wasn’t tired enough that his vision was obscured. 

It clicked: the smoke. Fitz sighed and raked a hand through his hair. When were they going to get the fires contained? It’s not like putting out a fire was rocket science. 

What other qualms could they possibly have that kept them from stopping the ludicrous amount of smoke pollution in his neighbourhood?

“Looking for someone?” Fitz jumped, and then regretted it as he turned to face his next door neighbour, who would surely remark on Fitz’s flinchy reaction.

Mr Forkle could always be found from his perch on the middle of his lawn, obsessively rearranging his creepy garden gnomes into elaborate patterns. 

“No.” He was also quite nosy. Fitz actively avoided his gaze and field of vision whenever he had to leave the house. He wasn’t sure what it was about old people, but they unsettled him deeply. “Just checking to see if the smoke had gotten any better. Evidently, it did not.” He gestured to the thick cloud that was obscuring his vision of Mr Forkle. 

Not that he wasn’t grateful that Forkle’s beady eyes weren’t boring into his as always.

Forkle turned away. “You kids,” he grumbled, evidently not believing Fitz’s lie. “always up to something.”

Mr Forkle always loved to start sentences with “You kids.” Like children were the bane of his existence, or something. He was old and smelled horrid- like old people usually do. He was always complaining about something, but he was the one that called 911 when Fitz had hit his head when he was five, so he was obligated to be somewhat civil. 

Mr Forkle moved another gnome a fraction of an inch- in what direction, Fitz couldn’t tell. “You should go back inside before the smoke gives you another one of those headaches you’re always-“

Forkle was interrupted by loud barking, followed by a tiny ball of fur racing up the sidewalk opposite them, followed by a blond guy in runner’s shorts chasing after it. 

The dog darted across the street, onto Fitz’s lawn, just as the blond guy yelled “Would you mind grabbing her?”

“I’ll try,” Fitz shouted back, and immediately raced after the dog. 

The dog was much faster than he was, which Fitz only felt slightly embarrassed about, but he still managed to lunge on the leash ungracefully, and then felt bad when the dog was jolted to a halt. 

Fitz reached out, and patted the fluffy little guy until she was licking his hand, nice and calmly. 

“Thank you so much.” The blond guy said, panting as he finally reached Fitz and the dog. Upon seeing his approach, the dog started twitching and barking erratically, straining against her leash. 

Fitz didn’t know much about dogs, but he did know that their mistrusting someone was an immediate red flag.

“She’s my sister’s dog,” the guy said over the noise. “She hates me- not my sister, the dog.” He added, raising a hand displaying several bite marks. One looked so deep it would probably scar.

Fitz picked up the trembling dog and held her close to his chest, patting her head. 

“I don’t suppose you’d be willing to carry her back to my sister’s house? It’s just a few blocks away, and she seems to like you better than me.” He winked one of his unusually light blue eyes. 

Blue eyes, ahaha. Wouldn’t it be funny if-

“He most certainly will not.” Mr Forkle yelled before Fitz could answer. He was going to say no- he didn’t want to be late for school, or confuse Sophie by not being exactly where he was supposed to be -but Mr Forkle’s interjection on his behalf startled him so much he nearly dropped the dog.

“Fitz, go inside. And you-“ he pointed at the jogger, “get out of here right now or I’m calling the police.”

The guy’s eyes narrowed. “I wasn’t asking you-“

“I don’t care.” Mr Forkle interrupted. “Get. Away. From. Him. Now.”

Fitz thought that if Forkle’s dialogue was written down, there would be a period after every word. 

The dog barked louder and louder as the jogger moved towards Fitz. It reminded him of a siren, though he could barely think through the chaos. His approaching figure, and his harsh posture made him wonder if he was planning to grab Fitz and drag him away. 

That’s when it hit him.

He couldn’t hear the jogger’s thoughts. Even through the chaos, he should have heard something. 

Would Sophie have sent someone else in her place?

She mentioned maybe bringing a friend, but Fitz doubted her friends were creepy middle aged men with dogs that hated them. 

And Sophie definitely wouldn’t try to trick him. She had been nothing but honest with him yesterday. This had to be something different. 

But before he could react, Mr Forkle stepped between them, stopping the jogger in his tracks. Fitz let out a quiet sigh of relief. He hated conflict, and he was sure the jogger could run faster than him. He wouldn’t have wanted to worry his mom by dashing back into the house, a creepy man on his heels.

Mr Forkle might have been on the older side, but he was a large man, and when he straightened up to his full height, he made an intimidating figure. Fitz was hardly visible behind him.

Forkle and the jogger stared each other down for a few seconds. It was a disappointing showdown; a blonde jogger and a fat old man, but Fitz figured as long as he wasn’t getting kidnapped, it was alright. Then, the jogger shook his head and backed off. 

“Fitz. Let the dog go.” Forkle ordered. Fitz patted the dog on the head gently. I’m sorry you’re caught up in all this, he thought, wishing the dog could hear him. The dog looked up at him as Fitz placed her on the ground. She looked as if she was smiling at him; her eyes were wide with sympathy before she raced off. 

The jogger glowered at them both before he took off after her.

Fitz released a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. And for how long had he been holding it? Was that why he’d started to feel light-headed? He shifted his feet so as to steady himself. Jeez, what a wimp. 

“You’re okay?” Fitz nodded. “If I ever see him again, I’ll call the police.” 

He nodded again solemnly. “Thanks.”

Mr Forkle snorted, shaking his head and muttering something that started with “you kids” as he made his way back to the perch on his lawn. “Better get inside.”

“Yeah.” Fitz agreed. He turned on his heel and tried not to dash back into the house. He didn’t want to come across as rude. 

But as soon as he crossed the front door, he slammed it shut and exhaled. 

Why would that guy try to grab him? It’s not like Fitz was someone he could hold hostage in exchange for some kind of massive ransom? There was no history of any crime in his neighbourhood, whatsoever. 

Could he be another elf? But there must be lots of elves, what made him special enough to try to kidnap in broad daylight?

He had a lot of questions for Sophie- whenever she decided to make her appearance.

There had still been no sign of Sophie when Fitz got to school, and he was pretty sure he’d gotten a few internal qualms for looking out the bus window like a lost puppy, but it was nothing he couldn’t tune out. Now he wasn’t sure what to do. She might be waiting for him to be alone to corner him- because a girl as radiant as Sophie would draw more than a few eyes and she knows it -but after potentially almost getting kidnapped, you couldn’t blame Fitz for wanting to keep a few eyewitnesses around. 

Besides, it was high school . The only place you could be alone was the bathroom, and even that was a hit or miss.

Fitz was pretty sure that Sophie wasn’t going to corner him in the boys bathroom , but you could never be too sure. The school bullies had no problems with it. Though if one was thinking along those lines, they couldn’t be sure that a kidnapper wouldn’t try it either. 

Fitz decided he wasn’t going to be using the bathroom that day. 

Frustrated, confused, and more than a little weirded out by his thought process, Fitz was heading to class when the bell rang. He was lurking behind taller students, as he usually did. Not on purpose- everyone at that school was taller than him. He wondered if his lack of height was an elf thing too.

“Fitz,” he stopped dead in his tracks. A girl walking behind him startled, and walked into him.

She shouted out an apology as she made a way around his rigid figure. He rubbed the back of his neck, straining to remember where the voice had come from. 

He looked into the shadows between buildings. It looked empty, but just as he was glancing away he caught sight of a glint of blonde hair. He sighed.

“Fitzyyyyy,” Sophie imitated a ghost while Fitz walked towards the alley. She giggled when she caught sight of his flushed cheeks from the scare.

“I hate you.” 

She grinned, now her face was more visible to him. “Nah, you love me Fitzy.” She laughed again. “So, missed me bad, huh?”

“God, you can’t just-” He felt blood rising to his face. “Leave me here, with no way for me to find you, and then this weird guy shows up and tries to grab me and-”

“Whoa whoa whoa. Wait. What guy?”

“I don’t know who he was.” Fitz answered, trying to cool his face down. “I’d never seen him around before, and I think I know my neighbourhood pretty well. He was some creepy blonde dude. Tried to trick me into wandering off with him, and when I wouldn’t, it looked like he was going to take me anyways. Also I couldn’t hear his thoughts, so I thought he might be another elf.” 

“Okay. Breathe.” Sophie put her hands on Fitz’s shoulders, and he hated to admit it, but the gesture was somewhat comforting. “No one else knows that you’re here. Except Biana’s dad, and he sent me to get you.”

“Then… why couldn’t I hear his thoughts?” Fitz momentarily remembered Sophie saying she’d bring a friend. He scanned the alley. They were alone.

Part of him had been excited to meet another elf, but most of him was relieved that he didn’t have to meet another new person.

“I don’t know.” Sophie admitted. “Are you sure you couldn’t?”

He replayed the scene, trying to remember what had happened. It was very loud, the dog had been barking and growling and he could hear his heart beating in his ears. Fitz couldn’t even remember hearing Mr Forkle’s thoughts- now that he thought about it -and he could always hear his. 

“Hm, maybe not.” He admitted, though not completely convinced. 

“My guess is that he was human, and his mind was probably just quieter than the others.” Fitz remembered the jogger’s threatening expression. If he was going to be thinking at all, it would probably be loudly. Though, Sophie knew a lot more about this kind of stuff than he did, so he resolved to believe her, for now.

“I’ll check with Biana’s dad. We’d better move from here, though.” Sophie pointed to a teacher who was eyeing them suspiciously. Fitz turned to where she was pointing. That teacher knew him- he knew Fitz was about as likely to cause trouble as a brick wall.

“We can’t leap with people around.”

“You can’t leap in a dark alleyway either.” Fitz suggested. Sophie shrugged, and gestured for him to follow her out of the school area.

Fitz blinked. Once, twice, and then what she said resonated. “Leap?”

She turned to face him. “Yeah. You’re familiar with the concept now, come on.”

“I can’t ditch class, Sophie. They’ll call my parents- and after yesterday I think my mom might strangle me.”

“This is important, Fitz. You have to come with me.”

‘Why?”

“Just trust me.”

He didn’t. How could he, when she was holding all the answers and giving him none of them? But he saw the quiet desperation in her eyes, and contemplated how much he did not want to go to science class, and sighed.

“At least tell me what we’re going to do when we get to elf-land.”

Sophie nodded, agreeing to the compromise. She nodded again, looking as if she was deciding just how much to share with him.

“Alden- Biana’s dad -says I have to bring you to,” she made quotes with her hands “‘elf land’, because the councillors want to see you.”

“Councillor-”

“They’re like the government. I don’t know much, to be honest, but it’s some sort of test. ” She looked up, trying to find the right word. 

“I don’t really know what they’re going to do. It’ll be fine though. Oralie’s testing you, and she’s super nice. Pretty, too.” Sophie stared dreamily at the wall, and then snapped back to her regular expression. “Yeah. It’ll be fine. So, come with me?”

Fitz hesitated. A test? He didn’t like the sound of that very much. But if it was what it took to reassure himself that he really belonged in the elvin world…

“Okay.”

Sophie’s smile lit up the dark alley. She grabbed his hand and dragged him out of the alley, into a deserted lit corner of the schoolyard. Fitz’s eyes hurt from the sudden shock of the light. He rubbed his eyes and frowned when they only went fuzzy.

“Oh, by the way. You know how I asked you to read my mind that one time?”

Fitz nodded, hesitantly. Was he in trouble?

“It was okay then because I asked you to try, but don’t do it again, especially without consent. It can be a serious offence. You could get in big trouble for something like that.” Sophie explained, but not in a way that made him feel foolish.

It wasn’t like he liked being a telepath anyways. Reading minds always caused him more trouble than it was worth.

He still flushed. “Okay.”

“Don’t worry, even if you had before, we couldn’t fault you for it ‘cause you didn’t know about the rule.” Sophie smiled. “Ready to go now?”

Fitz scanned the nearby area. A small rustle at a nearby oak caught his attention and he froze. His heart skipped a few beats; it was only for a split second, but he could have sworn he just saw the jogger’s face. 

“He’s here. The guy who tried to grab me.”

“Where?” Sophie examined the campus.

He gestured towards the tree, but there was no more rustling nearby it.

Had he imagined it?

Sophie pulled the pathfinder from her pocket. “I don’t see anyone, but let’s still get out of here. We don’t want to risk it. Besides, Alden and everyone are probably wondering where we ran off to.”

“Everyone?”

“Mhm, Biana, maybe Keefe or Dex- but I doubt it. A committee of Councillors, as well. They’ll be the ones administering the test. I already mentioned that.” She grabbed his hand and held up the pathfinder. A beam of light shot out of it, landing right in front of their feet. Fitz wondered momentarily what would happen if you miscalculated the angle of the light and accidentally leaped a random unsuspecting human.

Was that possible?

He glanced around the schoolyard one last time. He really hoped he’d be back in time for lunch.

“Can you tell me what the test determines?” He asked, locking eyes with Sophie.

She grinned. “Your future.”

They stepped into the light.