I vanish into the shadows, only to reappear atop my favorite poison apple tree—the one standing at the very edge of my dark forest, overlooking the valley.
Plucking a dark red apple from its branch, I turn it in my hand, watching the way the fading sunlight gleams against its glossy surface. Ripe. Lethal. Perfect.
A soft breeze drifts through the valley, carrying the scent of roses, cherries, and nectar. The golden rays of the setting sun spill across the towering mountains, their peaks being kissed by a warm glow. Beyond the ridges, lakes shimmer like pools of molten gold, reflecting a world untouched by time. Here, magic doesn't just exist—it thrives. It pulses beneath every blade of grass, hums beneath the stones, and dances in the ripples of the water.
I exhale. This is the definition of peace.
In the distance, past the valley, a forest of crimson-leaved trees stretches out, their branches intertwining into perfect heart-shaped arches. The air there is thick with the intoxicating scent of blooming flowers, their sweetness almost dizzying. The Love Fairy Kingdom.
On the opposite end, a yellow-bricked fortress looms, its towering golden gates gleaming under the waning light. Fireflies drift lazily around the structure, their flickering glow painting the illusion of warmth. They call it the safest place in the realm—a sanctuary of order and righteousness.
To me, it still looks suffocating.
I hope never to find out firsthand. The dark forest is infinitely better, despite certain nuisances like Devran.
Sitting there, staring at the world beyond my own, I can't help but wonder—what if I had been born a Love Fairy instead? Or even a Light Fairy? Would I have been free of this curse, this hunger that marks me as a Dark Fairy? Would I have known a life without the whispers of world dominion or the gnawing instinct to feed?
If I had been a Love Fairy, would I be shackled by their syrupy notions of romance—those over-polished ideals of everlasting affection, moonlight promises, and ride-into-the-sunset illusions? And the Light Fairies? Don't make me laugh. Pompous, sanctimonious fools hiding behind golden halos of 'virtue' while they burn entire truths to ash. If those were my options, I'd sooner embrace the shadows. I don't chase ideals. I don't parade around in their charade of purity. And honestly, who are they trying to impress now? Themselves? Each other? Their rulers? Their gods?
Perhaps it would even be better to be human. Free from the consequence of magic. Though, not that human who disturbed my nap, of course.
Ugh. Was I seriously jealous of him? That puny mortal who desperately needs a bath?
I sigh, shifting my grip on the apple. No point dwelling on the impossible.
At least I have this—this view, this fleeting moment of stillness.
Lifting the fruit to my lips, I sink my teeth into its flesh. Sweet—like nectar. Then comes the familiar numbness, a sharp tingle spreading across my tongue, reminiscent of a bee sting. Poisonous, yes—but to me, it is nothing more than an acquired taste.
And, as always, utterly delicious.
A sudden rustling breaks the quiet. A pair of fairies, clad in robes of white and gold, emerge into view. Well—almost together. The male stumbles, struggling to match the brisk pace of the female, his wings fluttering in anxious bursts.
"I... I—" he stammers, reaching for her. "I'm sorry!"
"You should be," she shoots back, barely sparing him a glance. "You left me alone to deal with your human friends!"
I grin, leaning comfortably against the rough bark of my apple tree. The evening is taking a turn for the better. I might despise Light Fairies, but a heated lovers' quarrel? Now that is entertainment.
When two self-righteous fairies clash, one's ego is bound to crumble—like tissue after a nosebleed.
Something about their rage, their unfiltered emotions, feels… oddly familiar. Almost comforting.
At least Light Fairies are honest, albeit self-righteous. They fight. They yell. They don't pretend to be something they aren't—at least, the ones I have seen here.
Funny to start a lover's spat in the open though…Haven't they heard of privacy? Not that I'm complaining.
That is more than I can say for Love Fairies. Idealistic hypocrites.
Love Fairies never fight. No, they smooth over every conflict with a flick of their magic, wiping arguments, resentment, and pain clean—replacing them with something artificial. They call it a love spell. I call it erasure.
Sure, I understand why they do it. Quick solutions. Effortless artificial harmony. The easiest way to keep couples together, to stop species from dying out. But who gives them the right to manipulate love itself? To bend emotions until they no longer resemble something real?
I exhale, watching as the couple below me continue their spat, blissfully unaware of my presence.
And then, just a few meters behind them, a Love Fairy materializes.
Ah. Here we go. Right on schedule. The spell will happen, wiping their anger away like it had never existed. Sure, take all the fun out of it.
But something feels off.
This one has red hair streaked with purple—unusual. And then there is her expression. She isn't moving to cast her spell. She isn't rushing to fix anything. Instead, she lingers, watching the arguing pair with a slow, amused grin, hand on her hip.
Wait.
Is she really a Love Fairy? Why isn't she doing her job? Doesn't she have a duty?
Curiosity gets the better of me. With a flicker of power, I tune in to her little murmurs.
"Oh, Light Fairies. Always so dramatic," the red-haired fairy muses, amusement lacing her voice as she observes the quarrel beyond.
A second figure emerges behind her—a tall, commanding presence draped in regal red robes. Even without seeing her face, the weight of authority clings to her like a second skin.
"Child," the elder fairy intones, her voice edged with impatience. "What in the world are you waiting for? Need I remind you that we have a duty to maintain balance?"
The younger fairy—the red-haired one—turns, entirely unfazed. Her smirk doesn't waver for a second. If anything, it deepens.
"Oh, Elder Arisa," she sighs, tilting her head with exaggerated drama. "This is the best entertainment I've had in weeks! Can't I let them bicker a little longer before I fix it? A few moments won't hurt." She clasps her hands together, eyes wide with mock innocence.
The elder's gaze sharpens.
The younger fairy holds the expression, unwavering.
A long pause. Then, with a weary shake of her head, the fairy elder exhales. "Fine. But make sure you do it."
"Yes! Thank you, thank you!" the younger fairy giggles, spinning back toward the bickering pair, her eyes practically glowing with delight.
The fairy elder doesn't linger. With a curt turn, she disappears into the distance, vanishing like a wisp of golden light.
The younger fairy's grin widens. She chuckles softly to herself. "Ha. More than a few moments now. Let's see how long this can go on."
Twirling her wand idly between her fingers, she mutters, "Why do Love Fairies always have to fix these romantic disasters? For the 'continued existence of fairies,' no less. Hasn't anyone heard of free will? Or, I don't know… communication?"
I nearly choke on my apple.
Did she just—?
I have spent years thinking the exact same thing. Yet here is a Love Fairy—the very embodiment of their ridiculous ideology—questioning it out loud.
Now that is something you don't see every day.
A strange woman. A Love Fairy that goes against the grain. Seems like a wild card.
I sink deeper into my perch, intrigued.
Below, the quarrel drags on.
"Kneel and apologize!" the female Light Fairy snaps, arms crossed, wings twitching with self-righteous irritation.
He opens his mouth, but she bursts into tears.
"You don't love me! I know it!" she yells.
The red-haired Love Fairy groans, placing a hand on her hip. "Ugh. Now that's just annoying." Her fingers curl around her wand, eyes narrowing with mischief. "Impertinent little Light Fairy diva… Let's fix that attitude first."
With a flick of her wrist, a pulse of shimmering magic ripples through the air.
The female Light Fairy's posture slackens. Her irritation doesn't fade—it is yanked from her, stripped away like an unwanted weed. Her glare dulls, her lips quiver, and then—tears. A flood of them, spilling down her cheeks in great, heaving sobs.
Wait—Love Fairies can do that?
I sit up, suddenly invested.
The male Light Fairy stiffens, his wings snapping rigid. "W-what's wrong? Why are you crying?"
"I thought you didn't love me anymore," she whimpers, voice trembling with raw, gut-wrenching despair. "I thought you left me for someone else…!"
The red-haired fairy snickers, watching the scene unfold like a playwright admiring her own masterpiece.
"Ah, a little love-sick spell. I knew that should do the trick." She taps her chin, utterly pleased with herself.
I blink in wonder. Did I just witness a love-sick spell?
That is… insane.
Then, the sobbing escalates, her wails sharp enough to shatter glass. The male Light Fairy looks stricken, helpless, his earlier frustration dissolving into sheer panic.
The red-haired fairy winces, finally clapping a hand over her ears. "Ugh. I might've overdone it. That's just an awful sound."
With a flick of her wand, the sobbing Light Fairy girl blinks, dazed as though waking from a strange, lingering dream. Within seconds, she flings herself into her partner's arms, clinging to him with an almost manic devotion.
"I'm sorry, my love! I wasn't being very understanding," she sniffles, her voice thick with regret.
The male Light Fairy hesitates, his arms stiff at first, but then he wraps them around her, murmuring, "You know I love you."
I roll my eyes in disgust. I can taste the vomit in my mouth.
The red-haired Love Fairy makes an exaggerated gagging noise, rolling her eyes too.
"Ugh. So corny," she mutters, a trace of distaste creeping into her voice. "You Light Fairies are impossible."
With that, she vanishes into a swirl of red mist, leaving the reconciled couple standing there, none the wiser to the manipulation they've just undergone.
I stand where I am, my gaze fixing on the spot where the red-haired fairy had been only moments ago. Thoughts start swirling in my mind, unbidden and persistent.
Who is she?
Nothing about her is ordinary. Her fiery hair, her sharp attitude, and certainly her magic—it doesn't fit the usual mold of a Love Fairy. Love Fairies are supposed to follow strict codes, using only approved spells to weave bonds of affection. They never deviate.
But this one? She is different.
She isn't just any Love Fairy—she is something else. Something far more dangerous.
The spell she casts—it isn't love. It is manipulation. A raw, invasive thing that twists emotions with surgical precision. One flick of her wand, and despair pours out of that Light Fairy like a dam breaking. That isn't affection—it is weaponized longing. Heartbreak on command.
I have lived a thousand years. I've seen what Love Fairies can do. This—this—is not it.
And yet… I can't get her off my mind.
Damn. Am I affected by her spell too?
Wait.
What is this feeling?
It crawls beneath my skin—unfamiliar, unwelcome. I can't name it, but it gnaws at me like a parasite.
Still, it doesn't matter.
I don't know her name.
But whatever she is… she has just become my new obsession.