They hadn't flown too far before the dark forest below revealed a scar across its heart — a long, torn trail of broken trees and shattered stones. Smoke still coiled up from the impact site, faint against the moonless sky. None of them had ever seen such destruction before, and for a long moment, the fairies hovered in uneasy silence.
"What do you gals think it is?" Rosetta finally asked, her southern drawl cracking through the hush as her green eyes glimmered with worry.
"It's a star, Rosetta. We all saw it fall," Silvermist said softly, her voice calm, as though that explained everything. She didn't take her eyes off the distant crater, her face unreadable in the dim glow.
"That's not what ah meant! And besides, it's no longer a star!" Rosetta snapped, her red curls bouncing as she glared at her friend.
Their bickering drew faint smiles from the others, but Tinker Bell and Fawn were already flying ahead, curiosity tugging them closer. Iridessa lingered behind, glancing nervously around — but seeing nothing dangerous in sight, her curiosity soon outweighed her fear, and she followed.
When Tink and Fawn reached the edge of the crater, much of the dust had settled, though faint tendrils of smoke still drifted upward. The ground below them shimmered faintly, like starlight scattered in the dirt.
"Hey, guys! You should come look at this!" Tinker Bell called out, her tone laced with awe.
Rosetta, Silvermist, and Iridessa hurried to join them, wings flickering with soft light as they landed nearby. The closer they came, the more they realized just how violently the thing had struck — the earth was torn open, roots and stones exposed, as though the ground itself had been ripped apart.
And then they saw it.
A massive wing — black as night, its feathers gleaming faintly under the star's faint light. It was still, motionless, yet strangely beautiful.
Rosetta blinked. "It looks like a wing... of a bird? Do y'all girls think it's an animal? Is it hurt? Fawn? You okay, sugar?"
Fawn didn't answer at first. Her hands were clasped over her chest, her wide brown eyes glistening with sorrow. "It's… It's hurt," she whispered, voice trembling. She could feel it, the faint echo of life or warmth still clinging to the feathers. Her heart clenched — she loved every creature, no matter how small or fearsome — and this one, whatever it was, felt so terribly broken.
"Hey, let's not jump to conclusions," Iridessa said gently. "Maybe it isn't an animal at all. I mean— what kind of bird falls outta the sky on fire and doesn't burn up?"
Silvermist tilted her head, stepping closer. "Iridessa's right. Maybe it's something else... like a star creature. A star bird, perhaps."
That earned a faint smile from Fawn. "Then we need to help it even more."
Tinker Bell, meanwhile, was crouched near the edge of the crater, studying the wing closely. Something about it unsettled her — not in fear, but fascination. There was no sign of blood, no scattered feathers, nothing to suggest pain. Only power and mystery.
She frowned. "I'm going to get a closer look."
"Tink! Wait!" her friends cried, but the tinker fairy was already fluttering down.
With a sigh, Iridessa fished through her leaf purse, pulling out a small rolled leaf tipped with a dark crystal. She darted to a nearby bush, removed the crystal cap, and a burst of captured sunlight spilled forth, bright and golden. She guided the light back toward the crater, spreading it with her hands until it bathed everything in a warm, steady glow.
When the light fell upon the wing, they all froze.
It wasn't just black. It shimmered with an endless depth — a galaxy folded into feathers, a sky full of stars hidden in every strand. The longer they stared, the more it drew them in, quieting every thought.
Rosetta breathed, "It's… beautiful."
Even Tinker Bell nodded, awestruck. "It's not like anything I've ever seen."
Fawn, regaining her courage, placed a hand on the wing. It was warm — softer than any fur, smoother than silk. "It's alive," she whispered, smiling faintly. "Definitely alive."
"Then let's see what we're dealing with," Tinker Bell said, rolling up her sleeves. "Help me lift it."
They exchanged nervous glances, but Fawn quickly took charge. "Okay — Tink, Dessa, that side. Sil, Ro, with me. Be gentle, y'all."
They positioned themselves around the wing, each fairy ready.
"On three. One… two… three!"
The wing rose — heavy, far heavier than anything so delicate had a right to be. They strained, wings buzzing with effort, until finally they managed to move it aside with a soft thud.
"Mah word!" Rosetta panted, wiping her forehead. "That was heavy! Are wings supposed to be that heavy, Fawn?"
"No, they're not!" Fawn said breathlessly, staring at the massive limb. "Not even close! What kind of creature—"
"Maybe you should ask him," Silvermist said quietly.
"Him?" Tinker Bell turned, confused — and froze.
There, lying among the shattered earth, was a figure.
A sparrowman… but unlike any they had ever seen.
He was tall for a fairy, his body lean and sculpted, dressed in torn dark clothes that glimmered faintly with silver thread. His long, black hair spilled like ink across the dirt, and his pale skin glowed softly beneath Iridessa's light. His chest rose and fell — slow, steady. Alive.
Rosetta gasped, hands over her mouth. "Oh my stars…"
Fawn blinked, her voice barely a whisper. "He's… beautiful."
Even Tinker Bell found herself lost for words. His presence was magnetic — otherworldly, like the night sky had taken human form.
"Is he even fairy-kind?" Silvermist murmured, eyes wide. "He has our ears… but those wings… they're not like ours at all."
No one answered. They could only stand there, hearts racing, gazing down at the fallen being from the stars.
And for the first time that night, none of them spoke — for they all felt it.
This discovery… would change everything.