The Desire to Be Human

The standard attendance policy in the Lower Palace went like this: on the first absence, the student received a written warning. On the second, the teacher gave them a stern talking-to. And on the third absence, the Head Mage was notified.

At least, that was how it was supposed to work. But most teachers reviewed their attendance at the end of the week. Naturally, it took five days to notice Nestor was missing, and another day for the news to get to Marianne.

“So you see,” Marianne said, patting Airi’s hand, “I only just found out myself!” She reached for Little Bo Peep. “But don’t you worry! I’ll find—”

“He’s gone after Esther.”

Marianne’s hand stilled. “How do you know?”

“He thinks it’s his fault,” Airi said. “He let her read his spellbook, the one about the river that ran away. He thinks it encouraged her.” She looked pleadingly at Marianne. “We have to go after him.”

“‘We?’” Marianne said, arching an eyebrow.

“Please, Marianne,” Airi begged. “I—”

“Only kidding! Of course I’ll come.” Marianne was already on her feet, Little Bo Peep in hand. She closed her eyes, mentally casting the spell. “Esther’s near Harebell Village. We’ll need Mildred.”

Nestor had covered plenty of ground in the week that had passed. Mildred’s wayfinding spell carried them along the Carmine River, through corridors of autumnal forest. Deep in the woods, a small village trailed plumes of smoke.

“She can’t be in the village,” Airi said. “Can she?”

As if in answer, the wind deposited them at the edge of the village. Marianne cast Little Bo Peep again, and they followed her. Judging from the bodies and smears of blood on the ground, Esther had been here not long ago.

They found her standing in front of a bakery. A man who must be the baker brandished a rolling pin at her, trembling. Esther stared intently up at his face and said, “Do you remember me?”

“Father?” the man whispered, eyes filling with momentary joy. He dropped the rolling pin he’d been brandishing.

Esther smiled, reached forward, and snapped his neck.

In that moment, Airi realized something. Feldspar hadn’t known what desire Esther represented. He’d said she didn’t represent any desire, that her slumbering soul proved that she couldn’t be a monster. But to Airi, it was apparent.

The desire to be human.

The rustle of pages—Marianne, opening Little Match Girl. Esther’s left hand was holding onto something: a child’s hand. She was holding onto a child’s body.

“Wait!” Airi cried, staring at the limp body. “That’s Nestor.”

Nestor stirred.

“He’s alive,” Mildred said. “She didn’t kill him.”

“Yet,” Airi muttered. She looked up and froze.

Esther was staring right at them. Camellia buds grew from her horns, still yet to blossom. Her clear, unblinking eyes landed on Marianne.

Marianne’s book slipped from her hands. She took a stumbling step back. “Stari.”

Airi grabbed Marianne’s shoulder. “She’s messing with your memories, replacing your friend.”

“No.” Marianne shook her head, tears filling her eyes. “It really is her. I remember now. Stari had horns, just like you.”

Esther tilted her head. “That’s not my name. The mage gave me a new one.” Her voice was soft, childlike. She squeezed Nestor’s hand. “It rhymes with Nestor.”

Marianne swallowed. “You died a long time ago. Nemesis killed you.”

“No,” Esther said. “Monsters can't die. The mages found me. They took me away. And you didn’t come back for me. Now I have a new friend.”

She blurred forward, dragging Nestor along like a rag doll. Airi barely had time to pull Marianne out of the way before Esther’s fist punched into the ground, cracking stone.

“Move!” Airi shouted.

Mildred cast Tale of Flight, hurling Esther into a tree. The trunk splintered, but Esther sprang up unharmed, brushing leaves from her long hair.

“You’re sad,” she said, darting towards Marianne, fast as a rushing river. “You’re very sad. Do you remember how we used to play in the woods?”

Airi shoved Marianne out of the way and lunged, slamming Esther to the ground. Images flickered in her mind. Mom, lying in the hospital, her skin clammy, tubes protruding from her body—

Except she had Esther’s face. Esther’s pink eyes, sorrowful as the life drained out of them.

Gasping, Airi loosened her grip, and Esther twisted away, leaping towards Mildred. “You’re uncertain. You don't like fighting," she said, leaning in close.

Mildred's next spell missed, lifting a wagon instead of Esther.

“She’s reading our minds,” Mildred said tightly, as the wagon crashed to the ground.

“No,” Airi said, her chest tightening. “Not our minds. Our emotions.”

Esther’s lips curved into an uncanny smile. She liked being understood. Running forward, she kicked Airi's out legs from under her.

Pinned under Esther’s small, crushing hand, Airi gasped.

“You’re afraid,” Esther said, squeezing tighter. Her hands grazed the gold crack in Airi’s neck, where the necklace from Gold had scorched her. “You’re so terrified you can barely move. You’re afraid to die.”

And she wasn’t wrong.

But fear wasn’t useless.

Airi thought of Nestor facing the slimes, despite his terror. She thought of Mildred, freeing Airi from the dungeons. Esther could only read feelings. Fear, anger, grief, joy. Every flash of fear from Airi, every pulse of doubt in Mildred, every twist of grief in Marianne—Esther caught them all. But bravery wasn’t a feeling. Compassion wasn’t a feeling. They were choices.

Airi let the fear burn. Run away, her mind was screaming. Run! She let it show on her face, flooding her chest, even as she made a separate choice inside herself.

“Yeah, I’m scared,” Airi wheezed.

Esther smiled. She let go of Nestor’s hand to place her other hand on Airi’s neck.

Airi's crystalline fist slammed into Esther’s ribs, passing straight through her chest. Esther let out a startled yelp, struggling to free herself. But Airi curled her other arm around Esther, preventing her from running away.

Marianne approached. Esther looked at her, and a smile spread across her face again. “Mari,” she said. “I remember you.”

Tears fell down Marianne’s face as she opened Little Match Girl.

“You feel longing. You miss me,” Esther continued desperately.

“Yes,” Marianne said, tears falling down her face. “I do.” Fire seared through Esther’s chest, tickling Airi’s arm, and the little monster fell still. Airi yanked her hand from Esther's body. It was covered in black goo.

“I never...” Esther’s voice faded, and for the first time, tears welled in her eyes. “I never... got to be... human... in the end.”

Marianne knelt and took Esther’s hand.

“No,” Marianne said through tears. “You know what? Death is the most human thing of all.”

Esther’s eyes widened. For just a heartbeat, true joy alighted on her face, widening her smile. The buds on her horns unfurled, blooming into bright pink camellias, as her body burst into pink light.

Then it was quiet.