By: Phoebe Shi

Emmeline sat on the bough of the willow tree, plucking at the strings of her lyre. Her fingertips were numb, and playing the exact same tune on repeat was wearing down her sanity. The wings attached to her back rested uncomfortably against the tree bark.

“Hello, fair angel,” a voice called from below. “I am here to slay the beast. Will you help me?”

She huffed and looked down. The newcomer was a young princess, a welcome change from the usual high-and-mighty princes. Their hunts would end in a day or two.

“You royals do remember I’m quite literally cursed to help you, right? I don’t really have a choice,” Emmeline said lightly, plucking more quietly than before. “I think you would find it more helpful to come tomorrow anyway, with the full moon and everything.”

“You must not find me so foolish as to come to hunt a beast on the day it is most powerful?” The princess’s aristocratic accent sounded ridiculous compared to Emmeline’s normal one. Royal families didn’t care that it was already the 2020s. No, they still talked like they were in the Victorian era.

“I mean, all the other princes tried to wait it out and guess what? They all died.” Emmeline shrugged and tried to ignore the strand of her golden-brown hair that stuck to her cheek.

The princess didn’t respond and sat down against the trunk of the tree.

“Can you stop playing your little instrument? It’s really irritating,” she finally said. Emmeline sighed.

“I can’t physically stop playing until sundown. Aren’t you supposed to know that? Also, you don’t get to barge into my magical field and tell me what to do. That’s rude. I still have around an hour before the sun sets, so deal with it.”

“You’re supposed to be giving me my clue, not arguing with me,” the princess sniffed. “The monster is bloodthirsty and terrible. How am I supposed to destroy it when you refuse to help me?”

“Fine, fine. Go to that hill over there tomorrow night at sundown on th.” Emmeline pointed to a nearby hill. “There will be ten glowing mushrooms in a circle. Sit in the middle of the circle and wait for me.”

“You have to be messing with me. Tell me the real clue, I do not have the entire day.”

“Angels cannot physically tell a lie. Aren’t you supposed to be educated?” Emmeline deadpanned. “If it helps, the werewolf hates chocolate. Eat a lot of chocolate, maybe it’ll find you disgusting and not even try to eat you.”

Night was falling, and the princess left. Emmeline slid down from the tree. She rolled her shoulders, sore from her continuous playing. She stretched her wings and left to go to her own home.

The next night, Emmeline flew to the hill where the princess was sitting. The moon was not fully out yet. She still had a little time.

“Hello, Angel. What am I supposed to do now? Where is the beast?” The princess asked. She seemed perturbed.

“It should be coming soon. Just watch the moon.” Emmeline glanced at the rising moon. Only the tip was still buried in the horizon.

“Are you sure no harm will come to me?” Emmeline smiled at the princess’s anxious question. There were only a couple of seconds until the moon rose.

“Oh, your highness,” she grinned, “I never said that.”

And then she transformed.