Untitled Molly Carroll

more, and the Erlking led her back to the path. This time, a knight had gotten lost in the woods.

And so it went. She never saw any of them again, but every time was the same. Her beauty only lasted a short while, and their lives where the price to restore it. They all died thinking they were in love with her,

and their spirits went to the Erlking. Every lover she took granted her a new appearance. She had to be beautiful in their eyes for the magic to work. This was her service, and for the most part, she did not mind it. When the Erlking came to take their souls to where she knew not, a small part of her felt a pang of guilt, but they restored her, so it did not matter.

As years turned to decades, and decades turned to centuries, she wore many faces, skin tones, eye colors, and body types. None of them were hers.

oday was another day to restore herself, but when Lilith went to the path and found her knight, something was different. The magic that beguiled them usually carried a sickly sweet scent and made the air around her heavy with the weight of illusion, like some type of drug. This time, the air was still sweet, but in a refreshing, floral way, and it carried no weight. It felt natural, like a summer breeze from her old garden. It was odd that she remembered that now. She had been a leanan sidhe for a long time and had forgotten most of her old life. That almost gave her pause, but she had waited too long before taking a new victim. If she did not kill him, she would die. This was the deal she made; this was her existence. he approached him, and he regarded her with some surprise and a great deal of longing. This one had a horse with him, and both followed her off the path as she danced to her glade. There, he bedecked her with flowers, and she sang for him. He professed his love, and she professed hers. They rode to her barrow together

where they ate. Following the meal, Lilith went to examine her new appearance in the mirror, and what she found shocked her. She looked the same as that day, so many moons ago, when she had met the Erlking. This time, the appearance she wore for the knight was hers, and she wept for it. The knight, on hearing her sobs, comforted his love with kisses.

hen she finally quieted, he fell asleep. As always, she watched his life drain while her beauty restored, but unlike the others, he tossed and turned in his sleep. She never knew what they dreamed, but the Erlking had told her it was pleasant. He was clearly having a nightmare, suffering from some unknown torment. The magic had failed; he had seen past the glamour and had loved her as she used to be, as she was meant to be. This knight did not deserve to die. pon concluding this, Lilith took the pale, slumbering knight and placed him on his horse. She brought them outside the forest, laid him down on a cold, lonely hillside, and set the horse loose. He would wake with the dawn. She wanted this one to live but did not turn back as she left for her barrow. Once home, she dressed herself in her finest gown and lay down to sleep. he following morning, the Erlking went to collect his payment and discovered her body. She looked as she had when he had first found her, but there was no fear anymore. She had garbed herself in white and lay herself to rest on a bed of acacia and chrysanthemums. She was still, cold, and beautiful in a