She sleeps in the forest, cradled by clawed branches and dagger-like leaves. Where She lies is peaceful. Dark, suffocating, deep enough into the den of gnarled bark and twisting brush that only the bravest or the most foolish would seek Her out. 

Some days, She sleeps. Other days, She watches. 

She is awoken by a heartbeat. It’s a small creature with enough energy coursing through its veins to make Her senses spark. 

Bark digs into the pads of Her fingertips as She rises. She had been curled inside the base of a hollowed-out tree and now clasps a hand on the rim as She regards the being before Her.

It’s a girl—She can’t tell how old, only that the thing looks as though it hasn’t quite finished growing. She has seen many humans over the years, all of different builds and colors and genders. Some have hollow cheeks and hollow eyes, knobbly joints and concave stomachs, dressed in rags and begging for riches. Others adorn themselves as though they seek to convince the world of their wealth. This girl lands squarely in between, with clothes that look threadbare but hair glossy enough to shine in the dim light. 

She decides to remain silent. Even so, She tips her head in curiosity. 

“You’re...like me?” the girl whispers, shifting where she stands. She’d made sure to keep some distance between the two of them, even if her eyes hold less fear than those twice her size. It’s…fascinating. Then she says, “I heard that you strike bargains.” 

She steps forward through the gap in the trunk. The girl swallows visibly, leans her weight onto the balls of her feet, and glances back over her shoulder.

A careful circling of the girl reveals nothing new. She’s nervous, but aren’t they all? Still, her stance is set with a courage that makes Her smile. 

“I do,” She says, voice unfurling from Her chest in a low purr.

Sweat is beading on the girl’s temples, but she doesn’t budge. She licks her lips, says, “What are your terms?” 

“Oh?” This makes Her laugh. “But you haven’t stated what it is you want.”

“Nothing in particular.” 

She laughs again. Rests Her hand on the girl’s shoulder. “And yet, you sought me out. Only the bravest or the most foolish would dare. So, which are you?” 

She can feel the girl’s lean lines of muscle tense beneath her touch. “I’m not afraid.”

What an obvious lie that is—nobody is able to gaze upon Her without fear. She digs Her nails into the flesh beneath and feels the girl flinch. 

“Foolish, then.” 

Surprisingly, the girl turns to face Her. There’s something odd about her expression, about the way her brow is pinched in the middle and the way her lips are pressed together so hard it scrunches the skin of her chin. It makes Her smile wider than before. 

“Three wishes,” the girl says. “I get three wishes, and in return, you can make a request.”

“My wish will have to wait,” She replies, grin showing in Her voice. 

“Fine,” the girl says. She says nothing, only flinches again as She circles behind her and rests Her chin on the girl’s opposite shoulder. 

“What is your name?” She whispers into the girl’s ear. 

“Does it matter?” the girl grits out. 

This time, Her amusement is softer. “No, it doesn’t. Now, what’s your first wish?”

The girl is quiet for a moment. Under Her touch, she has become as still as one of the trees that surrounds them. Silence presses inward, shattered intermittently by cries of unidentifiable animals.

“Let anything I speak come to reality.” 

“Rather demanding request, isn’t it?” But She’s already smiling, standing back and placing one hand on each of the girl’s shoulders. Something ripples in the air between them at the same time that She feels a wave of something inside her, repulsive and slimy and concentrated deep in her stomach, but the sensation leaves as soon as it arrives. It’s an energy she never learned how to use. It’s something that always has been unquestionable like the crushing forest or the skin on her body. 

The girl steps forward, dislodging Her hands. Then she turns and, with a determined glint in her dull brown eyes, says, “Die.” 

Nothing happens. She frowns a little. “Did you mean for me to die?” 

“I thought you agreed that anything I spoke would come to pass,” the girl seethed. A vein jumps out in her forehead and She regards it with curiosity. “Did you lie to me?”

“Perhaps I did,” She muses, ignoring the girl’s glaring. “You, of course, cannot order me to die. Not when we’ve made a bargain, and not outside of it. Power does have limitations. Do you think you’re the first person that has tried to kill me?” 

The girl’s expression flits back and forth, fear and fury blending together.

“Go on,” She says, waving Her hand in the direction She assumes the girl came from. There are cities and villages all around the forest, so She can’t be sure. “Think on your second and third, if you’d like. The only time limit we have is your lifespan.” 

The girl chews on her lip for a moment before saying, “Fine.” She spins on her heel and storms away.

“Feel free to visit anytime,” She calls after the girl. It’s not often that She receives visitors—sadly, it seems that mankind has finally begun to learn fear—so She must treasure the ones She gets.

The girl looks back only once before throwing herself into the depths of the forest. 

​

This time, She is awake when the girl arrives. She rests on a fallen tree trunk, head tipped back as She imagines what the sun on Her face would be like. She opens Her eyes and turns Her head to find the girl standing a careful distance away and staring. 

“I know my second wish,” the girl says without preamble. 

She stands. There are only a few steps between the two of them now, and She closes the distance to rest Her hands on the girl’s shoulders. 

“Tell me,” She murmurs, looking into her eyes. 

The girl sets her jaw, then speaks. “Make me the most powerful creature alive.”

Power. What a funny request. There are many sorts of powers, some turned inwards while others focused on output. She has had many men beg Her for power, enough to win wars and topple empires and create kingdoms, enough to alter the spin of the world in their favor. She has had others plead for their pain to stop. For them to never hurt again. 

As She studies the girl’s face, She senses that she is asking for it all. 

She grants the second wish, never flinching away from the power that crawls through her innards. She regards the girl as She steps back, waiting for the telltale glint in her eye that signifies the realization of her newfound strength. 

The girl’s smile is jagged, and then her hands snap forward to close around Her neck.

Impressive pressure, She must admit—but She only smiles at the girl’s now-enraged face.

“Why won’t you die?” the girl snarls, digging her fingers deeper.

She laughs, and it’s a clear sound, not at all impeded by the girl’s grip. “You can’t kill something that’s not alive, can you? Surely something as powerful as you would know.”

The girl screams in rage and throws Her away. Her back slams into a tree and She hits the ground hard. Her recovery is easy, and She rests Her chin in Her hand where She now sits.

“What are you?” the girl whispers, pressing her hands to her face. Between her fingers, She thinks that She sees the sparkle of tears. 

But the question makes Her pause because She doesn't know either. 

“Enjoy your strength,” She says rather than answering. “Return to me when you have your third wish.” 

For the second time, the girl storms away. This time she doesn’t look back. 

​

“It’s so dark in here,” the girl mutters to herself, frowning at the tightly-knit canopy above their heads. “I wish it wasn’t so.” 

She says nothing. Only listens. 

A cacophony of rustling, groaning of bark, then—She feels surprise, genuine surprise, as the trees lean apart to let sunlight bleed through. It tingles across Her skin and bites into Her eyes. The sensation makes Her feel so oddly human. 

The girl blinks and looks to where She sits on the forest floor, cross-legged and gaping at the sun like a child. She had been aware that the girl was coming for quite some time, but hadn’t bothered to stand. “Sometimes I forget that my words have power now.” 

“It was what you wished for,” She replies simply. She wonders what the girl’s third wish will be. 

“I’m not happy with my wish.” 

“I don’t care.”

The girl grits her teeth. “Again your power has cursed me. You make me think that I may finally have what I want, before ripping it away and leaving me with the scraps of my disappointment. I can do everything except what I want. That’s all you do, isn’t it? You make these bargains that always end in your favor.” 

She smiles to Herself. As much as the girl wishes, her words have no effect on Her. She’s had far worse insults slung at Her by people far more eager to see Her die. How enraged they’d become when Her skin hadn’t even yielded a scratch. 

“Do you ever feel remorse?” The girl’s plea is a whisper. 

She responds immediately. “No.” 

Are those tears in the girl’s eyes again? “Then, what? Does it make you happy?”

“No.” 

“Then why?” The girl cuts herself off with a sharp intake of breath. She turns her back away and ducks her head as if that’ll hide her distress from Her. 

She returns her focus to the sky. Puffy clouds drift lazily in the vast expanse of blue. Something about it feels deeper than the word blue can describe, more alive than any word can capture. She can’t remember if She’s seen the sky before. 

“Cover the sky,” the girl whispers harshly. 

The disappointment that sinks into Her chest after the sunlight fades from view is not a familiar sensation. Still, She doesn’t let it bother her for long. She pouts in the girl’s direction, resting Her hands on Her knees. 

“I hate you,” the girl spits. To her, it seems to be a dramatic revelation, accompanied by a strong stance, balled fists, and a flinty expression.

She laughs. Suddenly, amusement is all She can think of, and Her laughter continues until She’s bent in the middle from it, forehead almost pressed to the dirt. 

“So does everyone,” She replies once She’s gotten herself under control. “Maybe not at first, but in the end, everyone curses me.” 

“Because you’re a monster!” the girl shrieks, spittle flying from her lips. She digs her hands into her hair and paces, twigs snapping underfoot. The surface of the earth rolls with every step she takes. “Everyone that meets you dies!” 

“Everyone dies,” She replies, but the girl doesn’t seem to hear Her. 

“You killed Hanna.” And then the girl’s voice is shredded, traveling limply through the air, lacking its previous gusto. “Her family was dying and she wished for them to be cured of sickness. I asked her not to risk her life but she didn’t listen to me. She came to you and then you killed her as your end of the bargain. And now, no matter how many times I wish for her to return, she doesn’t.” 

She is quiet for a moment, tapping Her lips in thought. Then: “I don’t remember a Hanna.” 

The girl’s laugh is hollow. “I don’t know why I’m surprised.” 

“Do you want me to apologize?” She asks. “Is that your final wish?” 

“No,” the girl says. She looks at Her, hair disheveled, cheeks blotchy. Her eyes are alight with something more than the reflection of tears. “I know you wouldn’t mean it. What I want is for you to die.” 

Then she is leaving, and She realizes that the girl never asked for her final wish. 

​

It takes months for the girl to return. From where She sleeps, She can see the girl’s endeavors. She becomes a hero of sorts, using the immense power she was granted to save lives. It’s almost endearing. Village to village, she travels until she finds herself at the edge of the forest again, the steady beat of her heart waking Her from Her slumber. 

“Do you know your final wish?” She asks, rising from the hollow trunk where She was nestled. 

The girl before Her looks far different than what She remembers. Her clothes are finer, her figure flush with health. This sort of appearance can only be won from a life of fame.

“I do.” Even her voice is different, rounded out with tired confidence. 

She waits. 

“I wish for Hanna to be alive.” 

Her responding grin is razor-sharp, teeth glinting in the dim forest lighting. “I was wondering why you didn’t start with that.” 

Perhaps the girl figured it out—that because her Hanna had been touched by Her power, only She could bring her back. Or maybe she is simply desperate, despondent at the flaws in her own might. She doesn’t particularly care. 

This wish is the easiest of all to grant, prompting only a hint of discomfort in Her midsection. From the shadows of the nearest tree, a girl rises, with honeyed blonde hair and wide blue eyes that flutter at the sight of the girl. Her face splits into a lovely smile. 

Just as the girl is about to step away, She says, “It’s time for my end of the bargain.”

The girl hesitates, eyes lingering on where Hanna stands. “Can it wait?” 

“No,” She replies. “I will give you a choice: take my place, or die.” 

The girl whirls where she stands, shocked enough to take her eyes away from the newly resurrected girl. Hanna stumbles, unused to the sensation of walking, and catches herself on the tree. Who knows what sort of afterlife She dragged her back from.

“What happens if I take your place?” the girl presses. “Am I meant to give your curses out for the rest of my life? Do I get to return to my village? Do I get to–”

Her eyes linger on Hanna. 

“You’ll kill me,” She replies. Her voice is so even and, just like always, She feels nothing. “You’ll get what you want. In return, you become what I am. As you said: a monster.”

“Or I die?” the girl says, edging on hysteria. 

“That is what I said.” 

The girl chews on her lip a moment before continuing. “Do you remember anything about who you were?” 

This takes Her aback. She blinks, then frowns. “I’ve always been like this.”

“Oh,” the girl says. Then she starts to laugh and laugh, and Hanna takes a wobbly step in her direction. Perhaps she thinks to comfort the girl. “I see.” 

The girl looks at Her again, lips trembling in a smile. “Tell me. Were you like me, once? A girl with a wish?” 

She doesn’t blink. “I don’t know.” 

The girl presses her hands to her mouth in an attempt to strangle a sob. She squeezes her eyes shut and sucks in a quick breath through her nose. It’s a standard reaction, if not more contained than what She is used to seeing. 

“I don’t want to be a monster,” the girl whimpers. “I—oh, god. I don’t want to die.”

“I don’t care,” She says. “Such is the bargain that you agreed to.” 

Hanna opens her mouth, but it’s as if she has forgotten how to use her voice. At this point, only a few fingertips support her weight against the tree. She takes another step.

“What is your choice?” She asks.

The girl is staring into the trees, empty-eyed. Her lips tremble as her gaze focuses on Hanna, who steps forward again and again, pace picking up. 

A name comes from Hanna’s mouth, from a voice so panicked that not even the rasp of disuse can dilute the emotion. 

“Eden!” 

“I don’t want to be like you,” the girl answers, looking at Her one final time.

The girl collapses immediately, like a puppet with cut strings. She feels Her curse rise, Her veins light with the finality of it all. The bargain is complete. 

It takes Hanna several more seconds to remember how her limbs work, only for her to throw herself sloppily to the ground so that she may kneel at the girl’s side. She’s whispering all sorts of things through her tears, a Why would you do this? or an Eden, wake up! thrown in between unfinished phrases and strangled cries. 

“Eden,” She murmurs, testing the name on Her lips. It’s a bland flavor. She’ll likely forget it by tomorrow.