I'm trying to space out updating on this as I'm a little behind on chapters! I need at least another one and a half before I can begin my actual idea, might do a time skip, not sure!

And we find out the big secret in this one! Why are the Fae so scared of Isa?

Ward set a mug before Bibi. The steam curled from her tea, past her despondent face. Her hands shook as they encircled the mug. Ward sat opposite her, sipping his own beverage. They could hear their neighbours coming and going, buckets sloshing on the return from the well, Oti chasing down a giggling Char, the usual debate over something stupid- "I'm telling you, a magpie would totally beat a kingfisher." Char sprinted past. Oti was not alone in trying to capture him, Okia's demands for him to 'stop burning, you butthead!' only enticing more delighted giggling.

Bibi listened to her siblings and Oti's swearing, blinking quickly as tears threatened to fall.

"Did you know?" Her voice shook almost as much as her hands. She wouldn't look at him.

"I did."

"Did… did they ask you not to tell us?"

"It wasn't something we talked about. But it's better that you learnt it from them." He stirred his tea absent-mindedly. "You were not yet born to see how broken your mother was. After everything that happened, it is a miracle she functions as well as she does today."

"She has Papi."

"She does." Ward tapped his spoon on the side of his mug. "She is still your mother."

"But I don't know her."

"You don't know what was left of her." He reached across the table, poking her mug closer to her. "They didn't tell you, to protect you. But Isa didn't tell you because she was afraid you'd think she was a monster."

"She's… she's not, she-"

"How do you expect to convince me if you cannot convince yourself?"

"No, I- it wasn't her fault, she-" Bibi floundered. Her fingers pressed into the warm surface of her mug, the tea sloshing reactively within. "I don't understand."

"I don't expect you to."

"How- how did… how did she even…"

"Breathe. If you panic yourself, you won't ask the questions you want answers to."

"No, no, this makes no sense!" Bibi pushed away from the table, twisting her fingers in her hair. Ward watched her calmly, but she hardly seemed to recall he was there. "There's still something they're not telling me, what aren't they telling me? They missed a huge part of… of… of whatever happened! What had happened before? How did she-? How did she get there? Why was she there? Why her? She never did anything wrong! Right? Right?" She demanded, bunching her fists as he sipped his tea. "Ward, by the moon, if you don't tell me-"

"You'll what?" He said calmly. "You'll yell at me some more? Stomp your feet? Hold your breath?" He nodded at her mug. "Spill your tea?"

"I'm not-" She glared at her mug and it settled into a violent shiver.

"I thought you liked my tea."

"I do-"

"Then drink it."

"But-"

"Tea first. Scream later."

"I hate you."

"No you don't."

"No, I don't." Bibi sighed, plonking back down into her seat. She sat quietly and fumed, gulping down hot tea as her thoughts rushed. Ward leaned over every so often, refilling her mug. Each time he did, she glowered, but did not protest.

Eventually, the teapot was empty. Ward had finished two teas. She had drunk the rest under his indiscernible gaze. She was fidgeting in her seat. Ward smiled.

"So, how do you feel now?"

"Need a wee."

"Still hate me?"

"Yes, need a wee." She squinted at him. "Are you trying to get me to leave quicker?"

"It's a lesson."

"To leave?"

"To understand."

"Understand what?"

"Imagine the tea is everything your mother suffered. But she couldn't wee."

"You're a weird teacher."

"I'm aware."

"You're effectively saying Papi toilet-trained Mama."

"Yes, I suppose I am." He rested his fingertips on the teapot, moving it ever so slightly to the left. "Do you understand?"

"Sort of. The tea's a weird metaphor for it."

"It is, but it does make you need a wee."

"So you are trying to get me to leave quicker!"

"You're disturbing Kre's nap time."

"Kre?" Bibi repeated. Ward pointed and she looked over her shoulder. On the windowsill, she saw a new rock to his collection.

"She's a rather exquisite piece of rose quartz. Found her last night, on one of my strolls." Bibi looked back at him, brow raised. Ward smiled. "I'm looking for a bit of pegmatite now."

"I don't know what that is."

"And you don't know the whole story, so don't judge your mother too harshly. She has always done her best by you and your siblings."

"I'm sorry."

"Tell Isa that."

"OK. Thanks, Ward."

"No probbles. Now go and wee."

"Did you ask them?"

"Yeah."

"Did they tell you?" Bibi hung her head. Lody held her hand across the border. "I'm sorry, Bibi. I-"

"Tell me your version." She spoke softly, her hand trembling in Lody's. Her markings shimmered.

"I-"

"Please." Bibi's voice caught. She still wouldn't look at Lody. Cold filtered on the fairy's palm, frost speckling Bibi's fingertips.

"OK." Lody decided. "Sit down." Bibi swayed indecisively. Lody lowered herself into a crouch, tugging on Bibi's hand. They sat as close as they could, the border rippling between them. Lody explained carefully, trying to thaw Bibi' hands in her own. It was a fruitless effort, the chill coating the imp's arms as she listened.

"About… twenty or so winters ago, a remote Fae village sent up a signal. It's the quickest way to communicate with the other fairies and there's a signal for nearly everything. There's red, for a fire. Green, to say a peaceful intervention is required. Blue for help from natural disasters or an epidemic. And black. No-one had used or seen a black signal since the war. No-one has since either." She faltered, finally seeing the tears threatening to spill. Bibi shook her head and Lody continued. "Black is for a threat they cannot handle. Black shows casualties, an attack they cannot fend off and are losing hope and numbers in their attempts to do so."

Lody took a deep breath, sniffing. "Our Guard got to them as quickly as they could, but it was too late. The village… was… the village had been wiped off the map. It was… it was reported that many Guard, many veterans, had never seen anything like it; it did not leave them. Ever. They went mad. Some took their own lives, a feat that we believe dooms their souls. But… they could not live with what they had seen." She stopped again. The air around them tingled with energy, damp on her skin. Frost had formed to just below her elbows, but it was light and powdery on her. On Bibi, it was sharp, crackling as it hardened into ice.

Lody waited for her to nod before speaking. "The village had around four hundred in population. Small, for one of our villages, all families. Lower level talents. Every single one of them… was dead. Their homes had been destroyed from within, the ground was flooded with- with blood. Too much for the earth to soak up." Her voice withered. "They did not find a body intact." She croaked. "The villagers, like their homes, had been destroyed from the inside. The Guard… they f-found thousands of- of pieces, most too badly… damaged to put to any one villager. They found heads still caught in their final moments, some screaming, some crying, some ripped apart beyond recognition. They found small hands clutching at blood-drenched toys or blankets; torsos still clutching what was left of their children. They say the village is haunted now. They say you can still hear the screams."

She tried to rub warmth into her arm, merely swiping the frost away. The day did not seem so bright. The forest was still, eerie in its peace, as if it too were hanging onto her every word, as if it remembered a tragedy within its Fae counterpart. "The Guard expected an invasion of enemy forces," Lody continued, watching a snail creep along a fallen leaf, "but… in the middle of the village, covered head to toe in blood not her own, stood one imp. They say she cursed the Guard when she looked at them; there was nothing in her eyes. No anger, no remorse, no fear. No colour. She pointed at the Guard- they were next. There was nothing they could do."

"But they were saved."

"Yes. They didn't know where he came from, but a fire imp tackled her. The Guard ran. There was no-one left to save but themselves. And now… now it's taught in our schools. It fuels the hatred between us and the imps and it's something they don't want us to ever forget." Lody hesitated. "They call her The Blood-Curse. But… we all know who she is." She looked to Bibi. The imp sat, hugging her knees to her chest. Lody wasn't sure when she had let go of her hand, but the cold remained on her skin.

Bibi exhaled, flexing her fingers. The ice began to splinter, showering her lower legs and feet with frozen shards and bits of snow.

"She wasn't angry." She mumbled. "She does feel remorse. And she was scared. But there was nothing she could do about it."

"How… what do you mean?"

"I didn't get the whole story out of them. There were… there were parts Mama didn't want- couldn't bring herself to talk about. Like, physically could not get the words out. Papi kept her calm, but she…" Bibi looked at her icy hands, holding them out to Lody in case she hadn't yet noticed. "Her connection to our nature is stronger than mine."

"Like with the well?"

"Yes." She shook her right hand, shedding the coldness. On her left, it melted and compiled in a sphere over her palm. Her fingers twisted and wiggled in a slow, mesmerising pattern. "They gave me the short story. Mama and Papi had known each other for a few quarters. They were in hiding with their marks, trying to avoid Exile. But one day, Mama went out to hunt. She didn't come back. A human had taken her."

"A human?"

"Yeah."

"How?"

"He was partnered with a mage, they used restraining magic on her and took her away. She didn't say what they did to her, but… it was… Papi just said 'bad', but…" The water in her hand wavered, spiking and spilling between her fingers. "It changed Mama. Ward said I didn't know what was 'left of her'." Her brow furrowed.

"What was left of her?" Lody repeated, frowning.

"They kept her prisoner for almost a winter. Papi said they only knew she was still alive because his mark hadn't faded." She tapped the greave on her left forearm, on the inside of her wrist, just over where her mark would be. "They didn't see her again until the fairy village." Bibi looked at her. "You said her eyes were colourless?" Lody nodded. "She was full-named, Lody."

"What?"

"Yeah." Bibi nodded. Any and all magical creature were raised with the knowledge that their full-name would leave them at the mercy of anyone that knew and used it. Most shortened their names. Some, like Bibi, used a shortened version of a middle name. "The human used Mama's full birth-given name." Lody's eyes widened. "He set her on that village. Those fairies died because of him." She shifted uncomfortably. She dropped the water, curling into as tight a ball as she could. Lody lay a hand on her arm.

"What is it?"

"Mama told me how she did it, how the human made her do it. She said she could see everything that going on, but it was like… it wasn't her?"

"How did she do it?"

"I didn't understand at first, Papi had to explain it to me. Every imp, whatever their nature, has a secret ability. One that's brought out through pain. And Mama found hers." Bibi tucked her head behind her arms, leaving only the top half of her face visible. Her voice was muffled when she spoke. "If a water imp suffers and finds this secret ability… the more they use it, the more it can break their minds."

"What is it?"

"Mama's… Mama's a blood imp. That's how that village was killed. They had their own blood weaponised against them and she couldn't do anything about it."