The year was 1523.
In the fairy world, night had fallen heavy and dark. Angry mobs marched toward a small cottage near the mountainside, their torches burning bright against the cold wind. Flames flickered in their hands, their shouts echoing through the quiet night.
Inside the cottage, panic and heartbreak filled the air.
"I think you have to leave with Ophelia," Oakley said softly, brushing his hand across Elara's tear-streaked face. She clutched a small bundle in her arms her newborn daughter, wrapped tightly in a white cloth.
"No… I can't leave you here, Oakley." Elara's voice broke, tears spilling faster. They had never imagined it would come to this. How had the villagers found out? For years, they had lived in secret hidden deep within the forest, far from the eyes of both humans and fairies. Their love was forbidden: she, a witch; he, a fairy. Yet love had bound them together, and only yesterday Elara had given birth to their daughter, alone.
Now, the underworld itself had discovered them
"You have to go without me, Elara," Oakley urged, his voice strained with fear and love. "I'll be fine. I'll find a way to explain everything to my mother. I promise I'll come back for you."
He bent down and touched his daughter's soft cheek. The baby slept peacefully, unaware of the chaos closing in around them.
"You promise?" Elara asked through her sobs. Outside, the angry voices of the villagers grew louder closer.
"I promise," Oakley whispered, and kissed her lips.
Elara sniffled, her heart shattering. She turned toward the back door. Before stepping out, she looked back at Oakley one last time memorizing his face through her tears.
Then she slipped into the dark forest.
Clutching Ophelia tightly, Elara ran through the dark forest. Her feet pounded against the earth, branches whipping her face as she fled. Then, without warning, her right foot struck a stone. She stumbled, falling hard to the ground twisting her body to shield the baby.
She rolled down a small slope, holding Ophelia close as her back struck a tree with a painful thud. Cuts opened across her face and arms; blood began to seep through her torn dress.
Gasping, Elara forced herself upright, still protecting the crying infant in her arms. When she looked back, she saw a cloud of smoke rising in the distance. Her heart clenched she didn't need to be told what it meant. Tears welled up again as she began to run, faster this time.
At last, she reached the far edge of the village a quiet part with only a few small huts scattered across the fields. She stumbled toward the nearest one, its dim light flickering through a tiny window. Inside, she saw two figures a man and a woman, a humble couple sharing their evening meal.
Elara looked down at Ophelia, who had opened her eyes. They were large and green, the same deep shade as her mother's.
"I'm sorry I have to do this, my little Ophelia," Elara whispered, kissing her baby's soft cheeks.
With trembling hands, she laid the child gently on the doorstep. Then she knocked hard on the wooden door and darted behind a nearby tree to hide.
Moments later, the door creaked open. The couple stepped out, startled by the sound. Their eyes widened as they saw the tiny baby wrapped in white lying before them.
The woman gasped and knelt down, lifting Ophelia carefully into her arms. "Who would leave a baby at our doorstep?" the man murmured, his brow furrowed in disbelief.
"Maybe it's a blessing from the Goddess Aureliane," the woman said softly, smiling as she rocked the infant. Ophelia did not cry; instead, she looked up at them with innocent eyes.
The man's expression softened. He leaned closer, and when Ophelia giggled, his heart melted completely. "It's a girl," he said, smiling faintly.
From her hiding place, Elara watched, her heart twisting painfully. Ihope you take care ofmy daughter, she prayed silently.
Then she turned and began to run again, her body aching, her spirit breaking but one thought guiding her: she had to go back for Oakley.
As she climbed uphill, the air shimmered suddenly thick with magic. A glowing portal opened before her, its light cutting through the darkness.
Three women stepped out. They were breathtaking tall, regal, and draped in elegant dark gowns that rippled like smoke. The one in the center was older, her raven-black curls streaked with white, her eyes sharp with ancient power.
Elara froze, stunned by their sudden appearance.
"Oh, hello, Elara," the middle woman said with a knowing smirk.