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His Aunt Ephiria is not human. Patton Burgess had known and understood the implications of that fact from the time he was old enough to roam the wilds of Fablehaven on his own.
But there were moments spread throughout the few years where he had forgotten, and where he could not distinctly separate what he knew in his head to be true and what he saw. Ephiria looked like a human, a woman who had laughed and cried, walked, spoke and acted as though she were one of them.
None of those things could change the simple truth that she was not.
Things were not always what they seemed to be, enchanted milk or not; that is what Patton thought to himself when he was sixteen and filled with terror as Ephiria leaned close to the pond that divided the Fairy Queen's shrine from the rest of the preserve. The pond that was filled with vicious, drowning naiads like the ones who bubbled to the surface now.
A human would know better. A human would listen to the instincts buried deep in their bones and steer clear of the predators lurking beneath the water. But Ephiria had no such instincts, and Patton hadn't kept an eye on her as well as he ought to have earlier that afternoon when she initially disappeared. Her mortal, hamadryad blood would be on his hands if he did not save her.
Patton slinked toward his aunt slowly, hiding behind the trunks of the overgrown trees that surrounded the pond on sure, quiet feet, palmed at the weight of the knife at his belt. He could hear her talking to them.
"This existence is unlike anything you will ever find in your pond; it is unlike anything you will find in these woods--"
"So the rumours are true then!" Shrieked a feminine, high voice, "We did not believe them. We thought it was an awful joke! You've gone mad! You've fallen!"
"You've fallen! Oh, you've fallen!" Chorused the other naiads, horrified. Their voices were haughty and wailing, and Patton winced as he drew nearer. He counted nine heads, which hovered near the surface. Pale skin and scales opalescent like pearls flashed by the summer sun's reflection, as well as long, claw-like nails.
"No! No, you don't understand!" Ephiria cried out. She was too close to them, too close to the water.
He started to run.
"You are foolish, Ephiria!" A naiad yelled.
"'Nothing more than a stupid mortal now, just like the rest of them!”
“How I'd just love to wring your neck!"
They lunged for her. Surface tension bursting in a splash, their hands snapping free of their watery confines to clamp onto her arm, Ephiria screamed as she struggled.
"ENOUGH!" Patton roared, jumping into the fray. His dagger sliced through the water, intended for the knot of veiny hands that handled his Aunt. But the naiads were fast. Instead of steel meeting flesh, they dodged his swing, sacrificing their hold on her, but redirecting their attention on him. The naiads grabbed at his offending wrist, bending it toward him so quickly, so brutally that it snapped.
Patton screamed and dropped the dagger. A naiad snatched it as it sank. And his footing lurched, legs yanked into the mire and lake weeds, toppling into the bank. Ephiria pulled at Patton's back, trying to keep him above the water as the nymphs reeled him in. Giggling, squealing, yelling. He was frozen in fear as he gazed into the large, shark-black, and girlish eyes of a water nymph. She smiled, and Patton did the only thing he could think of. His free hand clenched a fist and collided into her wet, poreless face.
His fist came away bloodless, though he felt a gush of warm saltwater wash over it; shards of teeth were embedded in his knuckles and floated in the water, and the wail of pure agony from the naiad shattered his eardrums. Her sisters joined her, screaming, and let go, fish tails turning— scampering back into the depths.
“I’m sorry!” Ephiria lamented to the sobs of the pond. She stood in the water shin deep, tears staining her red face, “Jayka, forgive me! I’m sorry!”
"Ephiria, come away!" Patton grabbed her and dragged her away from the edge. They were both soaked from head to toe, cold and damp, and he was ignoring the throb of his wrist. He sniffed once, twice without her notice. She was too busy apologising, sobbing in the direction of the lake like a child.
The acute sense of disgust and betrayal nauseated him. He was trembling not from cold, or fading adrenaline, but with anger. Stinging, brittle rage that she had no regard for herself or for him. She had almost drowned. She had almost died at the hands of the naiads; he himself had nearly been a casualty, and here she was- fucking apologising.
He wanted to shout at her. To shake her until her senses came to her and she could do the sane things one was supposed to do, like rage at her assailants, turn to him and ask if he were alright. These things he could understand- they were normal, human reactions, and-
Ah.
He understood then. He stopped in his tracks on his way out of the grove, hunched over and laughed bitterly to himself.
He was still learning: Being mortal did not constitute humanity.
Things were not always what they seemed to be.
"Patton?" Ephiria asked softly then. They had not moved past the trees. A cold breeze blew against his face. "Turn around."
Patton sighed, rose wearily and looked.
There, in the centre of the lake, was a naiad half out of the water. She bobbed up and down from the waist subtly, her tail swishing beneath her. A dagger, his-- was in her hands, and pointed at him. She looked at him with such murderous dark eyes, with such a strong tilt to her jaw, her shoulders set just so, so that Patton understood every word she did not speak.
She meant to kill him. And she was considering leaving the pond, her immortality, to hunt him down herself. All to avenge her wounded sister.
Patton almost laughed at the sight. Here was a nymph who had begun to understand the concept of death, not just the temporary struggle of a drowning man, and that was almost as human as one could become.
"Lena," Ephiria whispered, "how odd."
“What?” Patton asked. He did not look away from the nymph-- Lena, he supposed her name was. She was bobbing more vigorously now, ripples that weren't hers surrounded her, and harsh words started to rise.
"She's one of the more sedated personalities beneath. Hard to anger that one, but once she is... well, she can be quite the storm. My dear nephew, it looks as though you've incurred her wrath."
She started to sink below the surface. Patton assumed that she was being dragged under by her sisters, with the glare in her eyes-- he almost pitied them. Almost.
Patton tipped his head towards her in a nod as she sank, his mouth twitching into a smile. And when she disappeared completely, he watched for a moment more, waiting for her to resurface.
Ephiria began to tug his uninjured arm, the both of them shivering, clammy. Patton had to shake himself loose from his thoughts. He turned away from the pond and began the long walk back to the manor. His Uncle Marshal would be furious at the events of the evening, and he’d have his pound of flesh from Patton. And while Patton would surely be sorry for the incident and for his accidental negligence of his Aunt, a part of him had no mind for it. It was left behind in the waters, twinging with thoughts and questions.
It was a pity, that small, inextricable voice of his thought, some part of him had hoped that the naiad would have come out of the water.