𝙈𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙨 𝙈𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨 - FAIRY

The Fairies' Lullaby

Deep within the Verdant Glade, where the trees shimmered with golden dew and the rivers sang soft lullabies, there lay a hidden world unseen by human eyes. This was Aurelia, the realm of the fae—where moonlight wove silver bridges, fireflies whispered secrets, and flowers bloomed in colors unknown to the mortal world.

Among the fairies who dwelled there was Lorien, a young fae with wings the color of twilight and a heart full of dreams. While the others danced in the glow of the crystal trees or played among the floating petals of the Luminara Blossoms, Lorien longed for adventure beyond the borders of Aurelia.

But no fairy had ever left Aurelia and returned.

“You’re foolish to even think about it,” chided Nerissa, her dewdrop-winged friend. “The world beyond is nothing like ours. It’s dark, filled with creatures who would never understand our kind.”

Lorien only smiled. “And yet, don’t you wonder? What if there’s more than just our little glade?”

Nerissa sighed. “You dream too much.”

But Lorien couldn’t ignore the pull in her heart.

One night, when the Eldertree cast long, shimmering shadows over the glade, Lorien followed a whisper on the wind. It called her name—a voice like soft bells ringing through the leaves. She followed it past the glowbloom fields, beyond the Moonlit Falls, until she reached The Veil—a delicate curtain of light that separated Aurelia from the mortal world.

She hesitated. The stories spoke of danger, of fairies who had crossed the Veil and never returned. But the voice—so gentle, so familiar—urged her on.

Taking a breath, she stepped through.

The Mortal World

Lorien blinked as her vision adjusted. Gone were the floating petals, the golden rivers, the sky painted in shifting hues of blue and lavender. Here, the trees were darker, their leaves still. The air was heavier, filled with a scent she had never known—earthy, rich, alive.

She had entered a deep forest, where moonlight barely reached the ground. Fireflies flickered weakly, not as playful as the ones in Aurelia, and the silence was thick.

Then, she saw him.

A human boy, no older than seventeen, sat by the roots of an ancient oak. His face was streaked with tears, and in his hands, he held a tiny wooden flute. He played a melody—soft, aching, filled with longing. It was the same song that had called her through the Veil.

Lorien hovered above him, her wings a whisper against the wind. “Why do you cry?” she asked softly.

The boy gasped and scrambled backward. His eyes—deep and dark like the midnight sky—widened in disbelief. “Who—what are you?”

She landed before him, folding her wings. “I am Lorien, a fairy of Aurelia. Your song led me here.”

He stared at her, then at his flute. “That’s… impossible.”

She tilted her head. “Then how do you explain me standing here?”

The boy exhaled. “I don’t know.” He hesitated. “I’m Elias.”

Lorien looked at the flute in his hands. “Where did you learn that song?”

Elias ran a hand through his hair. “It’s the only thing I have left of my mother. She used to play it every night when I was little. But she—” He swallowed. “She disappeared when I was ten. No one knows what happened to her.”

Lorien felt a strange pang in her heart. “She vanished?”

Elias nodded. “I play this song every night, hoping she’ll hear it. That maybe she’ll come back.” His voice cracked. “But she never does.”

Lorien hesitated. There was something about his song, something that felt… familiar.

Then, she noticed something—a faint glow on Elias’s wrist, barely visible under the moonlight. She stepped closer. “Your arm—what is that?”

Elias glanced down. “It’s just a mark. I was born with it.”

Lorien’s breath caught. The marking was shaped like a delicate wing—the same symbol that adorned the Eldertree’s leaves in Aurelia.

A realization formed in her mind. “Elias… your mother. She wasn’t just a human, was she?”

He blinked. “What?”

She reached out, pressing her fingers to the glowing mark. A soft hum of magic filled the air. In that instant, memories rushed into her mind—visions of a fairy with emerald-green wings, standing at the Veil’s edge, cradling a human child before vanishing into the mortal world.

Lorien gasped. “Your mother… she was one of us.”

Elias’s hands clenched around his flute. “That’s not possible.”

But it was. His mother had been a fairy who had crossed into the mortal world, choosing love over immortality. And now, her son—half-fae, half-human—had unknowingly carried her magic all along.

“I can help you find her,” Lorien said suddenly.

Elias’s eyes widened. “You can?”

She nodded. “But we must return to Aurelia.”

He hesitated. “How?”

Lorien smiled, offering him her hand. “Trust me.”

The Return to Aurelia

Elias grasped her hand, and the moment he did, a soft glow surrounded them. The Veil shimmered before them once more, and as they stepped through, Aurelia bloomed to life around them—fireflies swirling, rivers glowing, the sky swirling with hues of lavender and silver.

Gasps filled the air as the fae gathered, staring at Elias in shock.

“The Lost One has returned,” an elder whispered.

From the heart of the glade, a figure emerged.

A woman with emerald-green wings and tear-filled eyes.

“Elias,” she breathed.

His grip tightened on Lorien’s hand. “Mom?”

She ran to him, her hands trembling as she touched his face, as if afraid he would disappear. “I— I thought I had lost you forever.”

Elias choked on a sob, wrapping his arms around her.

The fae whispered in wonder, but Lorien simply smiled, her heart warm with something she had never felt before.

She had found her adventure.

And in doing so, she had brought a family back together.

As the stars above Aurelia burned brighter than ever before, Lorien knew—this was only the beginning.