The wind howled through the hollow trees, swirling around the ruins of a forgotten shrine buried deep in the heart of the Vale. A girl stood in the clearing, her silhouette slim as a candle wick, her eyes ablaze with longing. Her name was Lyra Evervain, and tonight, she was ready to sacrifice everything.
She looked into the abyss beyond the altar, where shadows breathed and shimmered.
"I wish for beauty beyond any comparison," Lyra said, her voice trembling with hunger more than fear. "I want to become so beautiful that roses bend before me, peacocks grow jealous of me, and even snow blushes at the sight of my skin."
A figure stepped from the gloom, neither man nor monster—cloaked in ragged velvet and crowned with moths. The Wisher.
"Do you honestly wish for that kind of beauty?" it asked, its voice rustling like parchment, older than sin and sweeter than ruin.
"Yes," Lyra whispered. "More than this worthless life."
"Then so be it. But know this—every blessing comes with a curse."
The Wisher traced a long, bony finger across the stone. "You shall have the beauty you desire, and the world shall weep in awe. But you will never be truly beautiful. You will lose your real beauty. That warmth, that mortal fragility… gone."
He raised his hand, and the wind shrieked.
"I grant you the appearance you crave—ageless, ethereal, unmatched. And in return, you will live forever… cursed. To keep your beauty, you must feast not on food, but on fear. If you don't, your beauty—and your mind—will wither like an unwatered rose."
Behind Lyra, two shadows stepped forward—her loyal maids, Matilda and Junie Cray. Eyes wide but unwavering.
"Stop," Matilda said, her voice low. "I have a wish too."
The Wisher turned toward her, amused. "And what would a wise lady such as you wish for?"
"I want to serve my lady until her last breath."
A grin curled across his ageless face. "Such a sacrifice. A curse in the shape of devotion. Ask for your wish."
"Then… I wish it."
The Wisher chuckled. "Ah. So earnest. So tragic. Wish granted."
Junie stepped beside her. "Wait. I wish the same."
The Wisher spread his arms in mock delight. "Oh my, what a loyal household. It seems I'm earning a promotion today."
A pulse of violet light washed over them. The pact was sealed.
"And if ever you wish to break this curse," the Wisher whispered, voice fading like dusk, "come find me where the shadow of your castle ends… and true beauty is seen."