"The moon is so beautiful tonight", Priscilla thought, hovering near the shimmering edge of the Fairy Veil. It glowed softly beneath her feet—an invisible barrier that had separated the Fairy Realm from all non-fairy territories for thousands of years. Every generation, from the eldest sages to the Fairy Queen herself, devoted their magic to maintaining it. The Veil was their greatest protection—imperceptible to enemies, unyielding to force.
Because despite their immense power, fairies were not feared.
They were hunted.
In the hierarchy of realms, fairies were seen as prey—too kind, too trusting, too naïve for a world ruled by claws and dominance. Their magic was vast, but their hearts were gentle, and that gentleness had always made them vulnerable. Every full moon, the High Fairy Society performed a ritual to strengthen the Veil. Tonight was no different.
Or at least—it wasn't supposed to be.
Priscilla folded her hands behind her back, silver hair drifting in the breeze, her crescent mark warming faintly beneath her bangs. She had watched this ritual countless times before.
Yet tonight, the air felt… strange.
The magic shimmered brighter. The moon hung heavier in the sky. And deep in her chest, an unfamiliar feeling stirred—soft, restless, almost like the world was holding its breath.
Something was about to change…