[1/2]
You were six years-old when you found me. I was your age, by the measure of my kind. You peered at me, fear overcome by concern for the small, lonely creature crumpled over some leaves. You, with your eyes gleaming, spoke softly to me, whispering words of comfort. You only wanted to help me.
I should have run. I should have conjured an illusion with what strength I had left, and frightened you off. I did not, and didn’t struggle when you took my false form into your arms. Your human dress, flowing and elegant, was stained by nature.
You weren’t meant to be out here.
"I’ll take care of you," you said. You carried me to a stream and cleansed my wounds. I didn’t flee, despite the pain. Without a moment’s hesitation, you tore your robe and mended my wounds. I tried to express my gratitude, and I believe you understood me.
There was a shout from afar. Your guardians had come looking for you. I sprung off your lap, and you regarded me.
"I'll come back," you promised, as the shouting grew louder.
I blinked slowly at you in response, silent so as not to frighten you.
You smiled, and ran off.
I did not expect to see you again.
Night had fallen by the time you returned, in a different dress and with your hair down.
"Little fox," you called in a hushed whisper, "are you still here?"
I let my paws crush the foliage. You looked scared, for a moment, until I entered the moonlit clearing. You relaxed, and the stars were reflected in your eyes.
"You’re safe," you said, with relief in your eyes, "how have you been?"
I couldn’t respond, for fear of giving away my identity. I instead trotted by your legs, and pushed my head against your calves. You giggled, and knelt down to pet me.
"I’m glad you’re all right," you said. "What horrid monster hurt you?"
No monster, I didn’t reply, only my own idiocy.
We settled down on the earth, you leaning against the base of a tree, and myself in your lap. We regarded the moon, and you spoke of yourself.
Your name is Lisa, and you are a princess, I learnt. The daughter of the Emperor of what the future will classify as the Song Dynasty. As a younger sister to an older brother, you felt rather…
"It’s of no matter," you hurriedly corrected, you accepted your role.
You grew drowsy and tired, so I nudged you with the top of my head. You should return home.
"You’re right," you admitted, "I should hurry back before someone realises I’m gone."
You’ll return, you promised, once again. Perhaps not as soon as this night, but you will come find me eventually.
How pointless, a part of me sneered. I couldn’t feed from you even if I wished to. What was the point of accompanying a human?
But you returned, again, and again. You brought human delicacies from your kitchens, and stories of your human life. You taught me human poems and songs, though you admitted, it was partially to test your own memory. You drew lines in the dust, and told me their meanings.
You named me Eva. I indulged you. I had names, but none you could ever repeat.
**
It was a year, before I decided to join you.
I lead you back to the stream you healed me in. I motioned towards the waters, and you understood I wished to show you something. Far from something in your reflection, I stepped away, and took form.
"There is nothing here," you were saying, before your neck prickled and hairs stood on end. You turned, and saw me.
The look on your face is something I cherish to this day.
You blinked, very quickly, mouth opening and closing like a confused fish. Finally, at last, you called me… beautiful.
"Thank you," I said aloud, and you startled, slapping your hands over your mouth. Words tumbled through your fingers, shock and awe and amazement.
"How?" you asked. "All this time?"
I apologised for deceiving you. You recalled myths and lore of fox spirits, that entice men and murder them for their energy.
"You are not a man," I told you. I had seen those humans perceive as female, who had the energy I could consume to maintain myself, but you were not one of them.
"I understand," you said, or as you admit, you believed you understood. "What do you want?" you ask. Did I plan to usurp your father?
"No," I said, as honestly as I am conniving. "I wish no harm to you."
"I am not my father," you replied.
I only wanted your companionship, I told you. Nothing more. I enjoyed your presence.
You stared at me, perplexed, and finally nodded.
"All right," you said. "But, you must promise me something."
"Anything," I replied.
"Don’t leave my side," you pleaded. "Don’t leave me alone."
I took your hands, and stared into your eyes.
"I will never abandon you."
And I never did.
**
I appeared in your life as a new servant. You were stunned and surprised, but you kept yourself quiet and didn’t draw attention to me. In the nights, I met with you in your room, unnoticed by your family’s guards.
"Thank you," you said, embracing my human form. I appeared older than you, but you were still as tactile as you had been to my previous body. "Thank you."
So for years, as you grew older, I accompanied you. I maintained my guise, and aged so slightly. The other servant girls envied my looks, but you held no such derision.
"It’s not as though it’s all luck," you teased me.
You had worried of my powers, of how I would keep myself sated. I reassured you, that the odd deaths in the prisons were of my doing. I abided by your morality.
"Thank you," you said, and your gratitude alone could have kept me alive.
[2/2]
You were announced to be wed by the time you grew to my initial human age. You told me it was fine, you had expected it, but the panicked thrumming of your soul indicated otherwise.
"I can take you from here," I told you through your tears. "You need not stay here."
But you were hesitant.
"I cannot leave my family," you said. "I cannot betray them."
I took your hands, and stared into your eyes.
"I promised to stay by your side," I reminded her, "I will follow you forever."
Your eyes crinkled with confusion.
"I value your choices," I said. "Your choices, not those of your family. If you ever wish to leave, I will leave with you."
You wiped your tears, grasped my hands once more, and decided to leave.
**
It was a difficult life for you, but I guided you through a civilian lifestyle. You taught geometry and arithmetic and I made sure you were safe. At times you cried, for the life you had left, but you would later say, you were not alone.
"I have you."
Despite offers of engagement, you refused them all. Some were particularly insistent, but you made me promise not to devour them.
You grew old, and I with you.
Your body aged and weathered, but your soul shone as brightly as it had when we first met.
"I will follow you," I said, as your body began to die. "I will find you again, and I will remain by your side."
Your eyes, so bright as they were, shimmered with tears. You struggled to squeeze my hands.
"I won’t forget you," you swore, though I knew you would. "I’ll remember you."
"Of course," I said. "Of course."
You died, far from your family, but by no means alone.
"I will find you again," I said, as your soul broke from your body, and vanished.
And I did.
**
I found you, years later, after the fall of your father’s dynasty. You were once again a math teacher, but born into the job. You taught with a familiarity and talent I remembered, and your eyes lit up the same was they had before.
Your name changed, you loved your parents, and your words flowed from you in a different accent than I recalled, but I had found you again.
You were kind to me, and delighted in someone your own age. We became friends, and I never spoke of your previous life.
I remained by your side as your closest friend. And when you died, I searched until I found you again.
And I did.
Over and over, for reasons I didn’t yet know, I followed the soul of a once-princess who’d saved me. I continued to live by your morality, and only fed from those who merited such punishment.
I never told you who you were to me, nor I to you. I dared not push your kindness so far.
I have a life beyond you, of course, and it entertains me between your reincarnations. The times I met you were my most cherished, no matter your lives.
But then, at some point, I lost you.
By the time the First World War, as humans called it, began, I realised I hadn’t seen you for over two centuries. You had remained around the region humans classified as China, regardless of the shifting human borders. Sometimes you spoke different dialects and languages, but I could still learn and understand.
I tried to find you, still. I promised you I wouldn’t leave you.
But I can’t. I can’t.
I haven’t abandoned you, I swear. I have lost you.
Yet…
That’s okay, isn’t it?
You never needed me through your lives. For so long, I was only your friend. Only ever your friend. You knew nothing of my true self, and you need nothing from me.
You are perfect, on your own.
So I stopped looking for you. I tagged along with humans, playing with them. I feed, not enough to kill those with the energy I need. Slowly, and slowly, I regress to a younger and younger form, and make more and more mistakes.
I realise, I am trying to emulate my age from when I first met you.
**
Humans have developed, but so have the supernatural.
The human children I blend in with now are much more amusing than they were a millennium ago, but their worries and concerns are appealing.
“Who’s Eva?”
This voice halts my actions. I lower my hand, and turn right over the staircase.
“She’s the new girl in our Computer Science class,” Julie, the girl I’d spoken to earlier, says to another girl next to her. She points up at me, and realises I’m staring.
Not at her, but to the girl who’d spoken.
My eyes meet yours.
It’s you.
You stare back with surprise. From so far away, it’s only my powers that allow me to notice how familiar your expression is. Your eyes are blue, this time, a product of a different heritage, but it’s still you.
“Who is that?” I ask Ben, who has noticed my staring.
“Uh, her name’s Alyssa.” He says, put off by my sudden change in focus. “She’s a pretty nice person.”
“Alyssa,” I try your new name. It’s the closest to your original, of any of the names you’ve carried in your lives. “Lisa.”
“Excuse me?”
I break and rush down the stairs. The human form I’ve recently altered is trembling. You look at me, stunned, and I meet you again.
“H-Hello,” you say, in a language I learned only decades ago. “You must be Eva.”
My current name is only an approximation of the name you gifted me so long ago, but it flows from your mouth the way it always did.
“Yeah,” I say, “And you are…?”
“Lisa.” You say. You're still stunned. Your friend nudges you, and you correct yourself. “I mean Alyssa- Alyssa!”
“Alyssa,” I repeat your new name. I offer my hand. “It’s lovely to meet you, Alyssa.”
You stammer, and blush, and take my hand. You smile. I smile back.
“It’s nice to meet you too.”
**
fox credit: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12173046
** Alyssa loved the fluffy abomination that her sister bought her as a house warming gift. >>30-33