I was still reeling from my mental breakdown from all that happened today. Turns out that finding out magic, monsters, and mages are all real, being attacked by a seemingly invincible monster, and learning that you're not completely human all in one day can do that to a person.

The thing that had ended up calming me enough to stop it was Mark hugging me and saying he was here for me. Then I'd cried my eyes out in Mark’s arms.

It bothered me now how much I had enjoyed hugging Mark. Even after calming down, I hadn't stopped it immediately, and some part of me wanted to hug him again.

I couldn't quite put my finger on why it had felt so nice. More than that, it had felt right. I'd been told to not show my feelings for many years, because "men don't act that way".

"What the fuck is wrong with me?" I asked the empty room that had been serving as my one-person hospital. Unfortunately, the room failed to answer my completely reasonable question, so I was left to brood.

Try as I might to put it out of my mind and move on, I was still laying in the same bed, dwelling on how nice it had been. 

"I'm not gay, I'm not gay, I'm not gay," I told myself in an almost mantra-like manner. I repeated the phrase several times, then I tried thinking of hot women to assure myself I still liked them.

As flimsy an excuse for my behavior as it was, it surprisingly successfully quelled my fears. I sighed deeply in relief that at least I was right about still being straight.

With a sigh of relief, I picked my phone up off the bedside table. Somehow, I had caused a miniature storm with my breakdown. It had been hit with electricity from my anxiety attack. I had hoped that somehow it would still work, but the melted screen wasn't reassuring.

I tried everything I knew how to try and make the damned thing work, but had no such luck; It had been thoroughly bricked. Fucking hell, can this day get any worse?

I decided to get up and stretch my legs. With some hesitation, I gently got off the bed and stood on the chalk circle that had served as my holding cell.

I sighed in relief when nothing happened. I went to the door and ventured into the hallway.

The hall was made of smooth concrete, which would have been rather bleak looking if someone hadn't gone through the effort of installing carpeting the floors and covering the walls in colorful paintings and tapestries.

Mark was in the hall, laying on a sofa  that looked so incredibly comfy you'd be at risk of falling asleep by just sitting on it. His eyes were closed and there was a slight smile on his face. He looked so peaceful and fragile laying there. 

It was hard to believe that he was the same person that had been flinging bone-breaking shockwaves just this morning.

As much as I didn't want to confront one of the sources of my turmoil, I definitely didn't want to wander around this place on my own.

"Hey Mark, you awake?" I asked in a soft voice, so as not to startle him awake if he was indeed sleeping.

"I guess so," Mark grumbled as he slowly sat up.

"Sorry."

"It's fine. You alright?" 

"I suppose," I replied, while avoiding looking at him. He studied me with concern for a moment before speaking up

"I'm here if you need someone to talk to," He assured me.

"I'll be okay, I'm still shaken up from all this shit."

"Mhm." He obviously didn't believe that I was doing great, but thankfully he didn't press the issue. I'm not sure I could have handled addressing my numerous issues at that moment.

"All this just got plopped on my lap and I'm lost on what I'm supposed to do now."

"How about I introduce you to Ashe? He's an Unseelie sidhe, so hopefully he’ll be able to help you get your magic under control. Pretty sure he's still awake and with Vincent."

"Is that the same Vincent that you introduced me to at a party a while back?" 

"Certainty is," Mark confirmed. "He's a vampire, so he doesn't have many chances to get out, cause the whole sunlight thing."

"Vincent the vampire? You've got to be kidding me."

"Nope, he's the real deal."

"So sucks blood and all that jazz?"

"That’s one of the things he sucks," Mark quipped. 

I snorted at his joke despite myself. I was familiar with Vincent's preference towards other men as I had walked in on him making out with some guy a while back.

The memory of him unabashedly kissing another man had haunted me since then. Not that I think being gay is inherently wrong, or anything like that. But I still hadn't really hung around him all that much since then. 

"Alrighty, let's go meet them," I sighed.

We walked down the concrete hallway and ended up in a living room. Sitting on an ugly plaid couch across from a huge wall-mounted TV  were Vincent and a pretty girl about my age. 

It's rare that I met anyone paler than me, but the girl sitting next to Vincent could've used snow as camouflage. Her hair was dyed blue and was styled into a pixie cut. She was wearing a pink v-cut t-shirt that would have shown an ample amount of cleavage if she wasn't flat as a board, a black skirt that only met the technical definition of modest, and had on blue, pink, and white striped socks that went up to her exposed thighs which Vincent currently had propped his feet on.

Vincent Jung was a squat but muscular man that oozed confidence and charisma in equal portions. At last year's Halloween party, he had dressed up as Hercules, and he had the body to pull it off. His whole loveable, badass vibe would have been amplified due to him being covered in bandages, but it was undercut by him being in much the same shape that I had been when I first got here. 

The man looked like he'd gotten into a fistfight with Death and barely walked away. Despite that, he had a smile on his face upon seeing us enter the room.

"Hey you, you're finally awake," Vincent smirked. The girl rolled her eyes and pushed Vincent's feet off her lap.

"So this must be Lucas," The girl cooed. "I've heard a lot about you."

"You have? How?" I asked half expecting another revelation about myself.

"Mark talks about you a lot," she revealed. I glanced at Mark, who gave a non-committal shrug. He was clearly embarrassed about it for whatever reason. 

"Shut it," Mark scowled. The woman giggled and tapped her nose. What's that about? I wondered.

"But where are my manners? Mark, would you introduce us, please?" She requested.

"This is Ashe. Ashe, this is Lucas," Mark introduced. "And you and Vincent have already met."

"Very funny, but I'm not in the mood for jokes," I snapped. "She's obviously a girl."

"Thanks for the compliment, but I'm not a girl," the person giggled. "I've considered it, but I'm definitely a guy."

"He's really Ashe," Vincent nodded to the guy who I definitely hadn't mistook for a wildly hot woman a second ago.

I felt my face instantly heating up from embarrassment. He's a guy and he's definitely not attractive. God, how does he manage to look that… feminine? I wondered to myself, not realizing I was staring at him slack-jawed. 

"Earth to Lucas, you in there?" Mark asked. I opened and closed my mouth a couple of times before finding my voice again.

"Oh, hi!" I squeaked. "I'm Lu-"

"Stop!" Shouted Ashe. "Wow, you really are as green as they come. Has no one told you anything about being sidhe? You almost gave me your name. Don't ever tell someone your name. Let others introduce you instead."

"Why?" I confusedly asked. 

"There is a great power in names. Mortals can control us through our True Names, but even our mortal names, given or chosen, can be used to influence us if we willingly tell someone, as long as the name is 'true enough'." Ashe recited, as if he were recounting a lecture he'd gotten a lot. "Vice versa  for humans that tell us their name."

"True Names? True enough? What are you talking about?" I asked exasperatedly. I was getting rather sick of being this clueless about the supernatural.

"Every being has a True Name. A True Name is the representation of a being in its purest form; it reflects the true nature of a being. By true enough, I mean if a being identifies a name as their real name. For example, the name Vincent. It isn't his True Name, but it is the name our mutual friend calls his own. Mortal names can be used much in the same way to a lesser degree, but only if the owner of the name actually speaks their name."

"So, kinda like the story of Rumpelstiltskin?" I guessed.

"Exactly! That's one of the stories that my parents told me growing up. Think about it, has anyone with a supernatural background introduced themselves by name to you?"

I thought about it for a moment and realized he was right, no one had actually introduced themselves, they'd always had someone else do it for them. 

"No, no one has introduced themselves." I confirmed.

"From what I heard you're only part sidhe, so there's no telling how much of this applies to you without experimenting first. In my limited experience with other scions, whatever aspects of the supernatural race they’re born into are lessened when compared to a full-blood."

"That makes some sense," I replied.

"Speaking of aspects of the sidhe, can you lie?" Ashe asked. 

"Cops are good people," I lied. I stumbled in shock and pain as I said the words. It felt like someone just hit my brain from all sides with a rubber mallet. I struggled to regain my senses from the sudden blow. 

"What the fuck? Did lying just hurt me?" I wondered aloud.

"Certainty seems like it." Vincent noted.

"Dead of Winter, that wasn't a challenge!" Ashe winced sympathetically. The way he said the phrase made me think it was a particularly vulgar swear. 

"Are you alright, Lucas?" Mark asked.

"Yeah, I think so. Still a bit dizzy," I replied. "Fucking hell, I've never had this much of a problem lying before."

"This much?" Mark asked. "Have you had problems with lying before?"

"I've always felt bad for lying and avoid it whenever I can, but actual pain is a new one to me."

"Whatever has awoken your heritage is likely responsible for the change," Ashe speculated. "Do you have any idea what caused your awakening?"

"What have I said that would make you think I have literally any idea what could do that?" I responded flatly.

"That’s fair. Well, have you interacted with any sidhe besides me?"

"A woman named Glaistig is the only one besides you that I've knowingly met."

"Glaistig!? Why in the Nine Hells have you gotten involved with her?"

"She came to my apartment to give me a birthday present," I explained. "Marshall and William think I'm related to her."

Vincent made a low whistle. "That’s… wow. Are you sure he's related to her?"

"From what William said, and the fact he made a mini-storm on accident earlier, it's likely he's her son."

"The Green Lady could have a son. Who woulda thunk it?" Ashe rubbed his chin in thought. "What all do you know about her, Lucas?"

"I know she's the Seelie ambassador to the Unseelie, and she's not one to be trifled with, and that's about it."

"Definitely not one to be messed with," Ashe agreed. "She's one of the more dangerous creatures among all the fae."

“Can you clarify the fae thing? William also mentioned something about fae. Do you mean fairies and shit like that? Are we fairies?”

“Calling a sidhe a fairy is a fairly efficient way to get yourself killed. Most sidhe are pretty bigoted toward species that they believe are beneath them.”

"Noted, don't call a sidhe a fairy," I reiterated.

"What's Glaistig's connection with storms?" I asked.

"She is the Spring's storms made carnate. Her formal title is Countess Glaistig the Green, Lady of Thunder. In the Spring Count she is only second to Queen Una, who is the wife of the High King Finvarra of Summer, the de facto ruler of the Seelie."

“Are you saying I’m the bastard son of a royal storm?”

“Not how I would phrase it, but not wholly inaccurate,” Ashe giggled. "You'll probably be quite powerful in your own right after a few years of training."

“Oh yeah, I completely forgot!” Mark exclaimed. “I wanted to ask you if you could start teaching Lucas how to control his magic tonight.”

"Ugh, I don't wanna go teach him tonight. I was planning on just relaxing the rest of the day. I got my cute programming socks on and everything!" Ashe pouted. 

My idiot brain decided that was my activation phase and I chimed in without thinking. "I'm a programmer."

Mark and Vincent turned and looked to me like I was an alien trying to blend in with humans. Ironic considering Mark was the only full human here. Ashe's reaction was less merciful. 

"Play your cards right and I might let you try them on," He purred in a seductive tone. "Though you'd have to take them off me first."

My cheeks felt like they might catch fire and there was the distinct stirring in my loins. Ohhh fuck! Think unsexy thoughts! Baseball, calculus, Thatcher's rotting tits! What would I look like with those socks on? No, bad Lucas!

The three of them burst out laughing uncontrollably at my reaction. I wanted nothing more than to disappear from the situation.

With that thought, I felt that same feeling I had when I had used magic to punch the troll, but this time it was less intense. Again, the warm feeling started in my core then spread throughout my whole body.

Mark stopped laughing and stared at me in disbelief. The other two's laughter doubled at whatever had happened.

"Uhh, Lucas?" Mark gawked. "You turned a little transparent."

"Holy hell! I was not expecting that strong of a reaction," Ashe wheezed.

"Sorry for laughing at you. But that reaction was damn funny," Vincent chortled. 

His apology seemed somewhat insincere since he was still laughing his guts out. Flashbacks to being bullied in school came into my mind uninvited. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes.

Ashe must’ve noticed just how upset it had made me because his laughter rapidly died down. Vincent wasn't far behind in noticing and went silent.

"Hey, I'm sorry man. I didn't know teasing you would upset you this much." As he was a sidhe, I know he couldn't actually lie. He must’ve truly been sorry, but it didn't diminish how much it had hurt.

Wait a fucking second. If Ashe can't lie, so on some level he must have meant what he said about the socks! It disturbed me how exciting a prospect taking him up on his offer was.

"Yeah, I'm sorry too," Vincent added in a more sincere tone than his previous apology.

"Not a particularly good first impression," I sniffed. 

Ashe flinched at the words as if they had been a physical blow. He collected himself and bowed ever so slightly to me.

"I am sorry I made fun of you," Ashe apologized in a formal tone. "It was not my intention to upset you so much. As an apology, I will agree to teach you a few things about how to control and use your magic. Is that acceptable?"

"I guess so…" I agreed hesitatingly. I felt a tangible finality to the words as I said them. 

I didn't know how I could possibly know this, but I could tell that a binding contract had been made, and that if Ashe broke it, I would gain some power over him.

"Glad we could sort that out," Ashe stated.

"What the flying fuck just happened?" I exclaimed.

"Good, you felt that. That was a deal being struck," Ashe explained. "I had wronged you, so I had to settle my debt. But it was also to teach you the importance of making deals and giving your word."

"How do deals work within the sidhe?" Mark asked, his curiosity piqued.

"Same as with everyone else. But because we're immortal, the stakes are typically much higher. I can explain how deals work in more detail later. For now, I recommend not making any more deals until you know what you're doing."

“That’s probably a good idea,” I agreed. “But back to Glaistig, she gave me a weird book earlier. Its pages looked like liquid mercury and had arcane-looking runes on them.”

“Did it have a title?” Ashe asked.

“No, but there was a symbol on the front cover.”

“Could you draw it?” He requested.

After finding a pen and paper, I made a quick sketch of the symbol. Ashe went stiff as a statue upon seeing the symbol. 

"Dead of Winter," He whispered as he stared at the drawing.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Either she gave you an enchanted book on love and marriage, or that book is The Morrígan’s Grimoire. She's the goddess of war and destiny in the Irish pantheon. You might know her better by the alias Morganna le Fay."