Page 25 of The Unseelie War
“What…?” he asked, though from his tone, she could tell he already knew the answer.
“I can unmake you. Let you fade peacefully, without pain. Return your essence to the Web, where it can become part of something new.” The words tasted like ash in her mouth. “The choice is yours.”
Lysander was quiet for a long moment, his form flickering between states. When he spoke again, his voice was small and lost. “I don't know what to choose. I'm not even sure I have the right to choose. I'm just…a story you told yourself. A character you made up because you were lonely.”
“That's not true!” Bitty flew over to hover in front of him. “You'renotjust a story. You'remyfriend. You've been kind to me, protected me, made me laugh when I was scared. That's real, regardless of how you came to be.”
“But what's my purpose now?” Lysander shook his head. “Ava doesn't need a guide anymore. She doesn't need someone to explain the courts or teach her about the fae. What am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to be?”
Behind them, Serrik had returned to his human form, though Ava could still sense the spider lurking just beneath the surface. He approached slowly, his golden eyes thoughtful.
“I have spent two millennia questioning my purpose, cat. Wondering if my existence had meaning beyond the revenge I sought. And I learned something in that time—purpose is not something given to you. It is something you choose.”
“Easy for you to say,” Lysander replied bitterly. "You were born real. You had a life before the Web, experiences that shaped you. I'm just—fragments of Ava's subconscious stitched together into the shape of a person. And you—you have someone you love, and maybe someone who even loves you back! I have nobody!”
“You feel pain,” Serrik observed. “You experience joy, fear, friendship.You make choices. You care about others. What more is required for personhood than that?” He shrugged. “I felt no such thing as love for nigh on two thousand years. I would ask you to show a little patience, perhaps, when waiting for that emotion to come along.”
Ava had been listening to this exchange, her heart aching for Lysander's pain. But his words about purpose had sparked an idea. “You're right about one thing, though, Lysander. I don't need a guide anymore. I don't need someone to explain the courts or protect me from political intrigue.”
Lysander's face fell, and he began to flicker more violently.
“But," Ava continued, "I do still need a friend. I need someone who'll call me out when I'm being an idiot. Someone who'll make me laugh when everything seems hopeless. Someone who cares enough to argue with me when I'm about to make a terrible decision.”
She reached out, slowly, carefully placing her hand over his translucent one. "I didn't make you to be myservant,Lysander. I made you because I was lonely and scared and I needed someone who would care about me. And you do. That's real. That matters.”
“You really think so?” he whispered, his form solidifying slightly at her touch.
“I know so.” She smiled. "So what do you say? Want to stick around and be my friend? Not because you have to, but because you want to?”
For a moment, Lysander was perfectly still. Then, slowly, a smile spread across his face. “Yeah…I think I'd like that.”
“Then hold still.” Ava felt her power respond to her intent. “This might tickle.” Reaching out with abilities she was still learning to understand, Ava began to weave new threads through Lysander's essence. Not changing who he was, but strengthening what was already there. She reinforced the patterns that made him himself, solidified the bonds that held his consciousness together, and anchored him more firmly to reality.
At least he didn’t explode into apple trees like thefirsttime she tried to learn how to use magic.
It was delicate work, like performing surgery with lightning. Too much force and she could destroy him entirely. Too little and the instability would return. She had to find the exact right balance between preservation and transformation.
As she worked, she could feel Lysander's nature settling into new, more stable patterns. His flickering stopped, his form becoming solid and real. The borrowed voices faded, leaving only his own. The existential uncertainty that had been tearing him apart transformed into something healthier—not blind certainty, but the kind of comfortable self-acceptance that came from knowing you belonged somewhere.
When she was finished, Lysander was morehimself,somehow. Still recognizably the same person, but with a solidity and presence that hadn't been there before. He was no longer just a dream given form.
It felt right.
Somehow.
She smiled. “How’d I do, kitty?”
Lysander sat up slowly, examining his hands with wonder. “I—” He paused, searching for the right words. “I feel like matter. LikeImatter.”
Bitty squealed and threw her arms around his neck, knocking him over where he was still sitting on the ground.
Lysander laughed hard, hugging the little Seelie creature.
Ava sat back, and suddenly felt the exhaustion wash over her again. But the two of them were adorable. Her two little dream friend-creations.
Lysander climbed to his feet, still hugging Bitty, which wasn’t hard to do given her tiny size. He plopped her down on her feet before offering Ava a hand up. There were tears in his eyes as he did. Not tears of despair, but gratitude. “Thank you. For…not simply forgetting me.”
“How could I forget about my favorite snuggly pussy ca—” The opera house around her wavered. She swayed on her feet, suddenly feeling like she hadn't slept in days.
