As night fell, it felt different this time.
There was no sharp contrast between light and dark, no gleam from the moon or stars. The sky seemed caught in a perpetual dusk, as if the sun had forgotten how to set. A golden glow lingered at the edge of every cloud—an eerie halo, casting a surreal light over everything.
It was nothing like the first time we arrived, when day and night bled into one long afternoon—warm, golden, relentless.This was something else entirely.
Was it because Scarlette had bound the Light Fairy King earlier, leaving him trapped in a catatonic state?Or was it the weight of her story—the confession she had just shared with me?I had no answers.
What she told me was devastatingly unexpected. Raw. Unfiltered.I had never had a conversation like that with anyone.I knew she was different.I knew she didn't deserve this—a deck of cards stacked against her since the beginning.
All I knew was that Scarlette deserved redemption—So did I.And I wouldn't let anything stop that.
We were back at Lumera's.Scarlette slept soundly in the room while I lay awake.It had been a long day for her, and her story kept replaying in my mind.
I watched her sleep, still refusing to believe the things she had endured.She didn't deserve any of it.And yet, knowing her past helped explain the sharp edges, the quiet hesitations.She wasn't born cruel—she was made to survive.
Just as she had been hunted by King Baltimore, I had been deemed the enemy by Queen Judorah.Labeled foolish for wanting to become human.Forced—time and time again—into their twisted visions of domination and darkness.
Did I absorb dark magic from those who tried to kill me?Yes.Does that make me evil?I doubt it.
I hunted villains. Killed them without remorse.But that was just my nature.Lions hunt hyenas.Fewer hyenas mean a safer world for gazelles.Still… if I were human, maybe I wouldn't need to kill.
They call me the hunter of villains.But I've heard worse.
Am I foolish for believing people are not just their beginnings—but their choices?The other Dark Fairies think so.They take joy in senseless destruction.
But I am not like them.I will not join them.
And because of that, they never leave me alone.An enemy of Queen Judorah, they say—as if not conforming was some great act of treason.
There were too many questions.Too few answers.
Scarlette and I…We were the same in some ways.Outcasts. Survivors.We didn't want to seize the Emerald—we wanted to protect it.Because reality itself was too dangerous to control.
Yes, the temptation was real.To become like King Baltimore—to rule the universe, demand obedience, erase all chaos.
But his story was a warning.A fire that consumed itself.
I would not let power corrupt me.
And yet…Here we were.So close to altering reality ourselves.
Was this magic meant to be used this way?Could it give us both what we wanted?Could it be… pure?
Many days had passed. Still no word on Lumera.
What had happened to her?Was she dead? Lost? Hiding?
And where was Judorah? The other Dark Fairies?Even the Light Guardian—did he exist at all, or was he just a myth?
My head ached with the weight of it all.
I thought back to the rumours I had planted in the marketplace.Hints and whispers designed to lure Judorah out.Yes. She would come.And I needed to be ready.
She would not come alone.She would bring her mindless minions with her.
Suddenly—A sound broke the stillness outside.
I rose from my chair, silently moving toward the door.
And there—In the soft dusk-light—A silhouette.
A figure I thought I knew.
Lumera.
She stood at the basin, slowly washing dishes, as though nothing had happened at all.
When she turned to face me,My heart skipped a beat.
"Oh, hello, Ravos," she greeted cheerily, but goosebumps prickled my skin.
There's no way. This couldn't be real. Wasn't Lumera killed? Or did she survive somehow?
"Hi, Lumera. Good evening," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.
"You sound so serious. Is everything okay?" she asked, her tone light, almost innocent.
But as she took a step closer, I instinctively backed away.
Her eyes were bloodshot, vacant, a hollow stare that didn't belong. The smile she gave me was too wide, too forced—unnaturally warm, like a mask slipping too far.
"You're not Lumera, are you?" I asked, my voice tightening.
She threw her head back, laughter bubbling from her lips.
"Veravos, I'll be damned," she said, the familiar, sinister tone cutting through the air. The laugh echoed in my ears.
A laugh, sharp and haughty.
It wasn't Lumera. It was Queen Judorah.
"What did you do to her?" I demanded, pointing toward Lumera's room.
"Must you ask the obvious, Veravos?" Queen Judorah snickered. "I ate her, of course."
"All the missing Light Fairies were caused by you?" I asked, the discomfort sharp in my chest.
"Well, there are a few minions of mine around too, so I can't say I ate all of them." Queen Judorah sniggered.
"Wearing her skin as yours…that's just dismissing her dignity." I replied in anger.
"Who cares about her dignity Veravos? My cover makes a more effective hunt. People will least suspect it." She sniggered.
That was repulsive.
"The Light Fairy Kingdom's blind acceptance of mixed fairy couples makes it so easy to infiltrate. Also, don't you know? The King removes everything that's inconvenient. Even dead fairies. It's the perfect hunting ground." She continued.
"Judorah, you will pay for this!" I threatened.
"Threaten me all you want, Veravos, but right now, I am Lumera, an innocent Light Fairy. It's so easy to slip into her mask, don't you think?" she mocked.
Then, her voice shifted—eerily friendly, yet her eyes remained hollow, dark voids swallowing the dim light.
"Well, hello there," she purred, her lips curling into something that might have been a smile—had it not felt so wrong. "Very Lumera, am I right?" A low, humorless chuckle slithered from her throat.
A cold unease wrapped around my spine like creeping vines, but I forced myself to stand my ground. "What do you want?" I asked, keeping my voice steady.
"The Emerald, of course. I didn't just come here to mock you, though that is an added delight." Her voice dropped to a guttural growl. "Don't pretend you don't have it, Veravos. I've heard the rumors. Very clever—keeps the crowd guessing." Another purr, smooth as silk but razor-sharp.
She tilted her head, watching me with the patience of a predator toying with its prey. "Full marks for your schemes, Veravos. I'll give you that. But I know your patterns, the kinds of rumors you'd spread. You didn't account for one thing—the sheer stupidity of the Light Fairy Guards. They let something slip… something interesting."
Her smirk deepened. "A new Love Fairy in town? Ravos? Really? That was your cover?" She laughed softly, the sound curling like smoke. "Then there's Lumera's house reappearing. Very obvious. But enough games."
The mirth drained from her face.
"Where is the Emerald?"
Before I could respond, the air shifted. A presence stirred beside me, silent and commanding, and Scarlette materialized—tall, unwavering, exuding quiet power.
Judorah's eyes widened, her confidence flickering. "The Queen of Hearts and Ruin?" She inhaled sharply. "In the flesh?"
Scarlette smirked, her gaze gleaming like polished steel. The very air thickened, pressing against my skin, the weight of her presence undeniable.
"Finally," she murmured, "someone recognizes me."
Judorah didn't linger.
In a blink, she was gone.
The door swung ajar, and a cold wind swept through the room, carrying the scent of something old—decayed yet sickly sweet.
A shudder ran through me.
"Are you alright?" Scarlette's voice was warm, grounding—soothing in contrast to the lingering dread curling in my gut.
"Queen Judorah… she was just—Lumera, she's…" My words faltered, my breath still uneven.
Scarlette took my hand, her touch cool yet steady. "Don't worry," she murmured. "She's gone. For now."
I exhaled shakily, my gaze drifting to the bed. Under the dim light, the scroll and the Emerald rested like relics of something ancient and dangerous. Their presence felt heavier, as though they carried a pulse of their own.
Scarlette followed my stare, then gave a wry half-smile. "Paranoia," she mused. "The night is full of terrors. It's best to keep these close."
I nodded, though unease gnawed at the edges of my mind.
"Scarlette," I said carefully, my thoughts racing. "If Judorah could so easily become the deceased Lumera… don't you think the other Dark Fairies could do the same?"
Dread slithered beneath my skin, slow and insidious.
"Judorah will return, Scarlette." My voice barely carried past my lips. "She's the darkest of them all. The fairy with the potential for the greatest evil." I swallowed hard. "I can't take her on."
"We'll stop them," Scarlette reassured, her voice steady, though something flickered in her eyes—an almost imperceptible crack in her composure. The faintest glimmer of uncertainty lingered there, but she masked it quickly. "For now, we rest. She won't be coming back tonight."
I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding, feeling the weight of the night lift slightly, though a dull ache of unease still gnawed at the edges of my thoughts.
"What does the scroll say, anyway?" I asked, the question slipping out before I could stop it. My curiosity clawed at me, impossible to ignore.
"You can't read it." Scarlette's reply was final, almost sharp, her voice leaving no room for argument. "It's a spell only the Light Guardian can decipher."
Her words hung in the air, heavy with meaning.
I usually would have questioned her, probed deeper, searching for hidden truths—but something about this moment felt different. Perhaps it was the weight of the night, or the unspoken bond between us, but for the first time, I found myself trusting her completely.