After a few days of training, those days then quickly turned into weeks. It became evident that my ability to concentrate and control this darkness wouldn't be as easy as I initially thought.

In fact, I became exhausted after only trying to force the darkness to merely the soles of my feet and my hands after a few times. It left me sweating and mentally drained. I was so weak, that the first time I tried to bust out multiple moves using the darkness to assist me (when I was alone), I found myself waking up on the training floor after blacking out. Luckily, I had been training on my own after our main lessons and nobody had seen it. After that incident I was left so exhausted that I had to re-evaluate when it would be best to work on using the darkness without exhausting myself too soon.

It was frustrating. What I once thought would finally be a breakthrough, now turned out to more of a mountain than a mole hill.

One afternoon while walking around on my own after lunch, I felt a familiar presence appear to my right.

"How long has it been this time?" I asked aloud, knowing we were alone. "Six months?"

Castiel came forward to walk by my side as I strolled through the gardens.

"Alas, little rose, it has been almost twelve."

I had been too distracted lately to keep a proper track on his abscence. I stopped to turn and face him properly. "Just what were you doing this time?"

He smiled, his silver eyes glistening like diamonds. His silver hair was tied back with a simple string. As always, he said nothing.

I sighed. "When will you ever tell me?"

"When–"

"The time is right." I finished, turning back to continue walking. His elusiveness always made me more curious. Unfortunately, his answer would always remain the same. "I'm beginning to think the right time will be when I'm dead."

"Now don't say that little rose," he placed a white rose in my vision, making me stop to take it.

"If you disappear, who else would I be able to have such engaging conversations with?"

Rolling my eyes, I then frowned at the rose. "Yes well, if my training continues like this I'm afraid I may die sooner than you think."

Castiel guided me to one of our usual benches in the garden. As per usual, he remained standing as I sat down on the stone bench. My conversations with him always made me loosen up a bit, as I found myself not needing to fake a more innocent vibe.

"Trouble using magic are we?"

Ah, I forgot to tell him.

This period of absence meant I hadn't told him that Kael had given me approval to become a knight. He thought I was still doing my own practise and magical research.

Nevertheless, I was currently having problems with magic. "Somewhat. Turns out concentrating is a lot harder than I thought."

Castiel held a hand out to me to show he was holding nothing. "I think you may realise the solution lies in working smarter..."

With a flick of his wrist, another white rose appeared in his hand. "Not harder." He finished.

I stared at him, trying to keep my train of thought. "Leaving out the semantics, what would you have me do?"

Smiling, he twirled the rose in his fingers. "A river only flows in one direction, yes?"

His sudden left-field question caught me off guard. "Yes?"

He pulled a petal off the rose, letting it drift to the ground. "Imagine a stream that supplies water to a fruit tree. Now, imagine another fruit tree that is away from the stream and cannot thrive. A man finds two tools sitting by the stream and he has to use one to water the tree."

The story wasn't making any sense to me. But I was still curious. "What are the tools?"

He pulled another petal off the rose. "A shovel and a bucket. Which do you choose?"

I didn't even need to think. "The bucket."

Castiel then let go of the rose, and instead of falling to the ground, it remained suspended in the air. "Now magic is similar to this stream. If one were to try and use the bucket every time they wanted to use magic, it would wear you out very quickly." The rose began to dip towards the ground. "But, if one is to use the shovel and create a new path for the stream which does not obstruct its flow, it takes almost no effort to nourish the tree at all."

The rose then rose back into air, taking the fallen petals with it. "Digging the way may be difficult initially, but if you dedicate yourself properly and begin to work with magic, not against it, I imagine you might find yourself less exhausted at the end of the day. You need to guide the stream, not force it."

After those words, I felt foolish. It was embarrassing to find myself to be wrong, but it was worse when I had been so confident in an answer I thought had been right.

Had I been thinking of this whole situation wrong this entire time?

I stared at my own rose then looked back at him with a smile. "Thanks, I think I understand what you're saying."

His soft smile always led me to believe he knew more than he was letting on. "You're smarter than you think, little rose."

I brushed off the compliment. "Yeah, well, not smart enough."

"There's no need to rush."

You don't understand.

I didn't have enough time left. But there was no way I could tell him that. I valued our friendship too much to risk him thinking I was a lunatic.

By the time it came to our goodbyes, I had to make him promise he would visit me sooner next time. "A year is too long."

And as always, Castiel said nothing. He came and left, like the wind. "Until next time."

Well, at least there would be a next time. That was a promise in itself.

Another secretive smile before he disappeared, leaving a few fallen petals in his place.

His words had left me with much to think about, and I found myself walking to my secret garden to think.

I sat on the log, my body rigid. The anger I felt after realising I had wasted so much time practising the wrong way left me in a panic. It already felt as if I could hear a clock ticking in the background, reminding how little time I had left. It was exhausting.

With a few deep breathes, I forced myself to calm down. It's ok, at least I found an answer. I just need to practise more. But now...

I closed my eyes to listen to the wild life around me. Rest.

After a few minutes, I allowed myself to stop thinking about my worries and my plans. Instead I just sat there and enjoyed the stillness. These moments were so rare. Yet I had taken them for granted back on earth.

By allowing my mind to become empty, it began to fill with other thoughts instead.

As I sat there, I was overcome with a great sense of grief.

The memories came flooding in.

The smell of coffee as I turned the pages of my favourite book, stuck in the corner of my local cafe. After finally completing my exams, it used to be my celebratory ritual to reread my favourite book at the end of each year at the beginning of December. My Christmas treat.

The Blue Sword.

A story of a normal girl, taken by a king with golden eyes to an unknown land where she couldn't even speak the language. Yet over time, she learned their ways—how to hunt, speak their tongue and how to become a warrior. Then finally at the end, she fought with the king against an army of magical beings she never thought existed. They fell in love and she went from being an odd ball in her town, to the bride of a feared king of a mountain tribe.

A happy ending.

Much unlike my own.

As the nostalgia overwhelmed me, I remembered the hours I had spent studying. The hours crying as I stayed up late at night completing assignments I should have done months ago. The tears shed trying to cram for tests the night before, only to realise I had studied the wrong content.

It made me smile.

The memories brought with them an inexplicable pain in my chest.

How small did those worries seem now?

At least my life hadn't revolved around survival.

In fact, closing my eyes right now, I could smell mum's cooking as she made dinner while I studied at the dining table. Whenever I was stressed, she would always cook up a mean butter chicken curry to help soothe my soul.

I didn't realise the tears were falling until I felt a wet droplet hit my hand.

I miss them.

I truly missed them.

This was the first time in years I had properly allowed myself to think about them. To allow myself to think of my life before this one. Of the parents who—although didn't share my blood—had been the best parents I never imagined myself having while living my early childhood as an orphan.

I refused to forget them.

If I tried hard enough, I would be able to smell dad's diesel aroma as he walked in from the shed, covered in grease and grime, and hear the sound of his footsteps as he walked over, wrapping his dirty arms around me, giving the smelliest, most dirty hug of all time. All so he could force me to stop studying and eat dinner with him.

A few more droplets hit my hands.

I could feel my lips trembling.

I never got to say goodbye.

It was rare to allow myself to get this emotional. Yet, this little piece of paradise seemed to act as a cushion from my current reality. It was a sanctum, a space where I didn't have to put on a front. There was no one to fool here.

No one to catch me out.

I was alone.

"Your face looks quite fascinating when you cry."

My eyes shot open as I cartwheeled backwards from the voice right in front of me.

The sudden movement made me lose my balance on the log, causing me to topple backward—unable to find purchase—and crash onto the mossy floor.

I stared into the sky as my brain tried to process what had just happened.

With my fighting instincts kicking in, I instantly rolled to my side and sprung to my feet. As I went to reach for my dagger, I realised I had left it at the training grounds.

Ah fudge.

My first dilemma and I didn't even have a weapon to protect myself.

It was only when I glanced up again in panic, that I noticed no one was there. My heart was pounding as my eyes searched for the intruder.

"Over here."

Jumping backwards, I searched the area the voice had come from.

"Who are you?" My eyes were flicking everywhere, unable to locate the person.

"You're asking the wrong questions." There was a familiar flutter before I heard a voice whisper into my right ear. "The correct way of asking would be; what am I?"

Slapping my hand over my right ear in shock, I rushed backwards again.

Was my mind playing tricks on me? Why couldn't I see anything?

"I'll give you three guesses since I'm feeling rather generous today."

The voice was off to my left this time.

There was that familiar flutter again. Although my ears could pick up on the sounds, my eyes could see nothing.

Nyx's presence comforted me.

After a few seconds I felt my vision change.

The voice continued. "Normally I only offer one guess, but I shall gift you with three after the present you gave me."

It felt as if lenses had been removed from my eyes. As if I were suddenly able to see long distance, because now, I could see the tiny little figure sitting on the log where I had been only moments before.

Stranger still, I could see the beautiful pair of iridescent wings attached to its back.

Judging from the face, it looked a like little boy.

After rubbing my eyes, he remained crystal clear.

Why didn't you do this before?

Nyx shrugged.

I was dumbfounded. Since when did she have this ability?

The logic was beyond me. Of course, how could I forget such a simple fact which you had never told me before?

There was no time to feel frustrated at her remarks as the tiny boy figure fluttered his wings and came right before me.

He was beautiful. Almost like–

"A fairy?" I asked aloud.

He seemed startled. As he moved, I followed him with my eyes.

He pointed at himself. "You can see me?"

He flew away, moving to the right. My head moved with him.

"Yes?"

Truly, I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me.

Despite the world I lived in, for some reason, I still assumed fairies only came from books.

Yet right here before me was a fairy with pale blonde hair and pale blue eyes.

My own real life Tinkerbell.