The fairy's final words weren't loud, but they cut through the cheerful noise of the workshop like a splash of cold water. A new, heavy quiet fell over the lobby, and it felt cold. Not a normal cold, but the kind of sterile, bureaucratic cold you feel when you know a lot of paperwork is coming your way. The happy squeak of a half-finished plushy toy died on the floor. Even the cinnamon-scented smoke from Cinder seemed to shrink away.
'Great,' I thought, my core humming with the familiar dread of an unscheduled performance review.
My attention then settled on the newcomer. He was a tall fairy with fancy wings and had the exact same look my old boss used to get right before a round of layoffs. He was the source of the coldness, sure, but the real gut-punch came from FaeLina. The bright pink glow that was a constant, happy buzz in my lobby just… faded. She stopped zipping around, her wings drooping, and just hovered in the middle of the room, looking small and scared.
