“T-... T… oa…” A young girl chokes out a nickname as tears run down her face. She can do nothing about her state of being, and the last name she can manage to say is that of her closest friend.

Behind the girl, seemingly floating in an abyssal fog, is a terrifyingly large and foreboding golden eye, piercing into the souls of all who fall under its gaze.

Presently, five are walking a path through a strange, fog-covered area in an even stranger oasis surrounded by death. Murtoa, the one whose thoughts provided the source of the apparitions, urged them to continue forward.

Lykha studies the face of the girl, who can’t see her, as she’s only a memory. He once said that he sees both of these images every day, especially when he closes his eyes, and he can draw both from memory with near-perfect realism. She can see why now.

The girl has a cuteness to her, being a very young teenager. According to Murtoa’s story when he told it to them in the past, he and his friends, Hondolon and Shyar -the girl he couldn’t help-, were conscripted into the army of the north to fight the southern army in open warfare. And, they were conscripted when they were mere children, training in a broad range of infantry warfare equipment and tactics in preparation for their first battles as preteens and teenagers.

The tragedy of that far-gone war aside, Murtoa has been haunted by the image of his biggest fear and his most painful loss for most of his life. Lykha’s not sure how old he is, but she’s fairly confident he’s over twice his age at the time he faced the holgamoor.

Coco’s thoughts mostly focus on Murtoa and their friends generating mostly happy imagery and embarrassing future aspirations of a girl who is otherwise crass and rough around the edges. Maerin’s thoughts being given form by the strange fog seem to be a back and forth between ingredients she could be mixing for purpose, and steps she would need to take to improve her liquor brews, though occasionally, Vielall’s voice tries to whisper her wish in the back of the inebriated fairy’s mind.

Lykha’s images revolve around her friends as well, but also her village, which is so close, and her anger towards Yanari, who is standing in the way of helping Murtoa. Or, rather, making it more difficult.

Gyrryth’s thoughts, ironically, seem to be the most pure and quiet. He apparently recites a mantra in his mind that’s in drakyk, and it sounds peaceful and focused.

Surprisingly, Murtoa’s mind is the one most exposed. The creepy and intimidating gaze of a titanic monster beams down on them, never looking away, never relenting, and never getting easier to ignore.

Maerin remarks as she tries to face the opposite direction, “Did Ol’ Holgamoor never blink? This is really creeping me out.”

Mury replies as Gyrryth carries him, “Sorry…”

Lykha hovers close, saying, “It’s okay, Mury! It’s just…” She looks at the eye, and then at Shyar again. “I…” She fidgets with her hands, murmuring softly, “I guess… she was… really important to you, wasn’t she? L-Like…”

He replies softly, “Yeah…”

The young fairy adds tenderly, “I’m sorry…”

“It’s fine. I’m used to it.”

Coco grumbles, “The whole rock betta no’ be like this. How’m I s’posed to sleep with tha’?”

“...human…” grumbles a deep voice, and the girls flinch. It’s not the first time, at this point, but it doesn’t get easier. Lykha asks, “What is that? Whose thought is that?”

Murtoa replies, “Mine… Sorry. Just a voice buried in my memories. I’m trying…”

Gyrryth offers his wisdom to the human warrior, “I find reciting the Nineteen Proverbs of the Bones can help keep the mind clear.”

Murtoa scoffs, and Maerin retorts dryly, “Have they ever been translated?”

Gyrryth pauses, thinking deeply. He replies, “I see… They do indeed not have a good translation. Apologies. Do humans not have such a prayer?”

Mury replies, “We have a few. I find my motivation stays strong when I see those two images, though.”

Lykha is silent, though not for a lack of trying. She tries to think of something -anything- to say to her dear friend. But, it’s clear she’s competing with a torch he’s been carrying since he was a child.

Coco states dryly, “‘Bando jus’ needs to envision me as his b’loved preemcess. I’d even ‘cept Tricksie. Anything but that creepy seer peepin’ at us.” The teen shouts at the eye, “Ya hear!? Ye bu’ a shadow o’ a dead monstie ‘Bando slicked as a wee balah! Weakes’ monstie confirmed!” She throws a rock at the apparition, but nothing happens.

Suddenly, a woman appears, and though she only catches a glimpse of the woman, Lykha would swear she was elegantly dressed and carrying an infant. A soft female voice whispers, barely audible, “... please, get them to…”

Lykha looks at Mury once more, but he deflects softly. “A woman who tried to sacrifice herself for her children.”

Given how much of his focus is required to keep his thoughts stuck on just the holgamoor’s eye and Shyar, Lykha is instantly suspicious of his reply. Whoever this woman was, she was also someone important to Murtoa of Lakia. She hates that he’s keeping so many secrets, and now may be the only chance she’ll ever get to glimpse any of them.

Lykha asks softly, “Mury? Have you ever met a princess? O-other than Maribel.”

The warrior replies without delay, and with apparent sincerity, “I have. I was knighted by the queen of Lakia. I’ve met her daughters.”

“A-... Are they… What were they like?”

Mury scoffs, and she pouts a little, but he replies bluntly, “Infants.”

Lykha blushes, feeling a little foolish suddenly. For all she knows, they’re all grown up now, and he hasn’t seen them since.

Maerin suddenly cuts in, “Oh, thank the spirits. Is that the end? Hurry up! Get Murmur through there!” She points at another similar archway as the one that led into the strange little area of the large island-like rock in the forest.

The group makes their way through the arch, though Gyrryth and Lykha remain alert and cautious. The area they’re in and the strange fairy sage who seems to know the area already still present dangers.

And, she asked them to retrieve some simple-seeming ingredients that COULD be parts of the cure to the demon ash plague infecting Murtoa.

A small cluster of shrubs is growing nearby with hard, sharp-edged and wrinkled bark growing almost like large scales from its branches. Between the gaps in the “shell”, the branches also seem to have sharp thorns. And, on the actual trunks of the individual shrub, a multi-colored lichen seems to be growing.

Lykha hovers before one of them, studying it briefly. She can’t fit in the gaps, and she’s not strong enough to pry the branches apart.

But then, the drakyk spellshot with her will likely have no issues.

Coco replies as she steps up alongside Lykha, “So, if these’re the ‘shell shrubs’ Smug Tricksie wante’, where’s the goobian pitcha plants?”

Lykha replies, “I think she said ‘gorbian’.”

The teen looks at her with a narrowed gaze, and Lykha fidgets, “Sorry. She did say that the pitcher plants would be before the shell shrubs, didn’t she?”

Maerin sighs. “She’s screwing with us. They’re probably in that weird mind projector fog.”

Lykha nods in agreement. “Makes sense… W-... Are we doing the right thing? We’ve… We’ve lost over a day already…”

Murtoa’s voice is soft, but stern, and he says only one thing. “Lykha.”

She flinches, but nods, “Right, right. Positive. Positive. Okay. We haven’t actually paid anything yet, so… She’s going to steal our trunk winder, isn’t she?”

Gyrryth replies, “I don’t think so. I don’t suspect a fairy has much use for it.”

Coco cuts in, “Eitha way, we wastin’ time. We all ‘spicious o’ her, she’s prob’ly ‘spicious o’ us. Gyrryth, if ye’ will, get some o’ whateva lichem is, an’ I’ll go fin’ some pitcha plants.”

Gyrryth nods. “Very well, Fiery One. Be careful.”

“Bah! I’m no’ afraid o’ me own fancies.” The teen starts back towards the strange foggy area, and Lykha hovers nearby as Gyrryth sets Mury on a stone, readying his hands to pry apart one of the shell shrubs. The young fairy offers gently, “Be careful not to cut your hands, Gyrryth. We can’t have you getting infected, too.”

Gyrryth nods, and Murtoa wearily tugs on the hilt of Zaermaa, the simple broadsword he was given by the chieftain of the Zaereens. He coughs, urging, “Gyrryth.” The lizardman looks, and Mury draws the sword, saying plainly, “Try this. Should let you spread the bark a bit.”

“Ahh! Much appreciated, my friend.” Gyrryth accepts the sword, guiding the blade in between a couple of the bark ‘scales’ protecting the plant’s internals.

When Lykha glances at Coco just as the teen is passing under the statues, Maerin waves at her, pointing at the rock wall nearby.

Realizing that a third ingredient was requested, Lykha perks up. “Oh! While you’re doing this, I’ll get some of the shale. Gyrryth, may I have an empty phial?”

Gyrryth nods, pausing his work to reach into his bag. He hands Lykha the requested glass vessel, and she flies towards the rock wall, using the knife Mury gave her to scrape and chip away some of the stone into the phial. She’s not sure how much she’ll need, so she works on getting as much as possible.

It doesn’t feel like long before Gyrryth approaches, and Lykha has managed to get about a quarter of the phial filled. He asks, “How goes it, Gentle One?”

The fairy wipes sweat from her forehead, trying to mask her heavy breathing. “Great! Getting quite a bit so far.”

“Would you mind if I take over?”

“B-...” Lykha clutches her knife. “I’m making good progress.”

Gyrryth nods, “I mean no offense. The foggy area is deceptively larger than it appeared passing through, and Coco has been within for a long time.”

“What?”

“Longer than it should take. Your flight, as well as the fact that Yanari seems at least partially more hospitable to you means you should have minimal trouble finding her.”

“Oh…” Lykha fidgets. She gets that he’s not trying to imply she’s being too slow, though she probably is, but that she’s better suited to searching a large area because of how quickly she can move.

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The young fairy nods, “Alright. Please get lots and lots for Mury!” She hands the Phial to him, and he nods. “As you wish.”

Lykha flies towards the entrance to the foggy valley, watching for the teenage techromancer. As soon as she’s past the statues of the two women, the thoughts start to swirl. She calls out, “Coco!”

“Aye!” replies from her left, and just as she smiles to head that way, another “Aye! What’cha want!?” comes from behind her. She whirls, and soon a cacophony of “Aye!” “What’re ye, daf’, Tricksie?” “Bae!” “Tricksie!” “Wha’ is it?” and all sorts of other phrases fills the air from all directions.

Lykha realizes her thoughts, now on the teenage techromancer, are flooding the area around her, and because of her disorientation, they’re racing even more. She takes a breath, doing her best to tune out the voices. “Focus, Lykha…” She tries to think, but it just causes more voices.

“That’s it! I just have to search for her. I can’t rely on voices.” She touches her lips, though, adding, “Though, I guess I have to be wary of images, too. Okay, you got this.” She straightens her cape between her wings, flying ahead as she scans the area. If I call out, she’ll become distracted and disoriented like I did… probably. No. Now’s not the time to be comparing myself to anyone. If Coco DOES become lost, we have to find her.

Lykha scans the area, and as Gyrryth said, it’s much larger than she expected. She sees all kinds of plants, but nothing that jumps out as being a pitcher plant. Then again, she hopes Coco actually knows what she’s looking for, too.

The young fairy tries to listen for the thoughts of her friends being projected; Maerin’s chemical concoctions or mumblings, or Coco’s hopeful fantasies and bright ideas. If they’re being projected as before, and they stand out enough against Lykha’s disruptive thoughts, she should be able to find them rather easily.

However, every time she has a new thought, the fog seems to be set on misleading her. She catches glimpses of Coco in the distance, only for it to be shrub. She does find a pitcher plant, but before that matters, she needs to know where Coco is.

Maerin’s voice starts mumbling, but it leads nowhere. Lykha’s own thoughts are working against her, and they pile on when she tries to think of something new.

She even starts to hear Mury’s voice whispering to her.

“Your home is right there, simply go.” “We’re done. Goodbye.” “I’ve never NEEDED you. Just leave already.”

Lykha screams, “HE’D NEVER SAY THAT!”

She tries to compose herself as the voices swirl around her. Tears find her cheeks, and she repeats, trying to reassure herself most of all, “He’d never say that…”

She hugs her arms as she flies forward. Less and less are her thoughts on her actual task. It’s all she can do to keep from breaking down into tears.

A sudden jolt causes her to cry out, and she loses consciousness.

***

None would ever be so surprised as the spirits the day the girl would find the castle. For, she was determined to find magic as the spirits possessed, that she might be able to continue to play with them. After all, everyone else viewed her as fragile and too delicate to be friends with, and she wasn’t strong enough to play most of the games the others played.

With magic, the girl could play with the spirits. And, who else could say that?

In this castle, majestic and glistening like the very sea itself, the girl met a strange woman who took pity on the girl that the mischief of the spirits had endangered her life. But, more than that, the woman praised the girl for showing such determination and curiosity, as well as a genuinely pure soul.

This woman, who many believe was the Goddess herself, was not mischievous by nature, as the spirits were, but she was not without mischief in her power. And, in order to teach the spirits a lesson, the woman gave the young girl a magic more powerful than any other.

‘With this power,’ she said, ‘You will be able to grant the wish of any one person you choose. Until that day, you may learn any magic, fly until the sky itself falls, and shine as bright as a star in the darkness. You will be beautiful and bring joy to all who lay eyes on you. But, be warned, this power also comes with a curse. Should you grant a wish, you will grant no others. You will lose all of your magic, even that which you possess already.’

‘Already?’ asked the young girl, confused. ‘I possess no magic as I am.’

‘Don’t you?’ asked the woman. ‘In either case, your wish or your magic are yours, and you should give them only to those whom you truly cherish, lest you be as you are now, less the magic you fail to see.’

Either not understanding or failing to heed the warning, the young girl gratefully accepted the offer of the mysterious woman, and she gained magic that was truly as was described. Her hair and skin sparkled in the sunlight, and her wings glowed with their own luminescence. Her body felt lighter, and she could create dancing lights and sparks with mere flicks of her fingers.

Still, she had yet to grant anyone’s wish. Instead, she fell in love, got married, and had two healthy baby girls, whom she loved deeply. They were just like her, with gorgeous wings, stunningly beautiful hair, and a magic power that could supposedly grant a person’s wish.

Only when her daughter granted a wish did she learn the true cost…

***

When Lykha’s consciousness returns, she finds herself in a strange place. She seems to be indoors, with luxurious furnishings, including a small pool, a beautiful lounge, elegant statues of exquisite and rare materials, and strange magical apparatuses that she only recognizes as such.

Lykha, herself, has a moment of intense deja vu as she touches a transparent wall surrounding her 360 degrees in every direction. She’s in a glass jar, specially designed to contain fairies, and she’s suspended off of the ground about her own height.

Kneeling on the ground next to a tiny, unconscious body is a fairy slightly younger than Lykha is. The body she seems to be praying over is another fairy, around or slightly older than Lykha’s age. The unconscious fairy’s skin is ashen and sloughing off in some places, much like the creatures Lykha and her friends met that started this particularly unpleasant leg of the journey.

Lykha looks around. She didn’t enter this place, did she? So, she was trapped before that. Why are the other two fairies welcome?

An elderly sage’s voice says coolly, “Only those with pure drives and motivations can ever find this place. I’m impressed. Of course, the true entrance is not intended for us, so it’s much easier, hmm?”

Lykha’s blood boils. She knows the obvious proved to be true. Yanari couldn’t be trusted, but Lykha prayed that they could at least benefit from her.

Lykha tries to scream at her, but her voice echoes in the capsule, and none of the other three seem to notice her as Yanari approaches the two younger fairies.

The fairy sage says in a gentle tone, “Dear child, your sister is very sick, isn’t she?”

The young fairy, sobbing, replies, “Y-Yes, wise Nana. P-P-Please help her.”

“As you surely know, I ask a very steep toll, child.”

Lykha pounds on the glass jar, but none of them seem to hear. The youngest fairy nods, “Y-Yes, Nana.”

Lykha’s heart nearly stops as Yanari’s voice hisses, “Then, I wish…” She whispers the rest in the young fairy’s ear, while Lykha’s whole body shivers. She feels cold and stunned and disbelieving and scared and angry and sad and hurt and utterly bewildered. She can’t even fully put her own feelings right now into words that would do it full justice. The closest, perhaps, is an out of body experience, similar to the first time she found herself in the spirit realm, unprepared to be their prisoner, and watching helplessly as she feared Nieolsynnys was going to steal everything away from her.

Lykha tries to deny this. She’s still in the fog, watching a horror scene play out. She understands fairies grant wishes, but she never really processed what it would look like. She doesn’t even know how to actually do it. She’s always heard the rumors that a fairy simply knows it when it’s time, as if the words to say will suddenly find her mind. She has to, of course, accept granting the wish, so it all happens in the moment that the prerequisite conditions are met. To her knowledge, age is also a factor, as the youngest known fairy to grant a wish, supposedly, was around fifteen. Before that, they don’t seem capable.

The girl kneeling appears to be around that age, and Lykha cries out in futility as she tries desperately to stop the horror scene.

Yes! This has to be the fog, right!? This is too horrible! No one is that wicked! Certainly not a fairy!

In spite of Lykha’s attempts to deny its existence, and in spite of her hands becoming bloody from her desperate strikes, the young fairy stands up, suddenly hovering in the air as she chants. Her glow begins to brighten, truly competing with the brightest stars in the sky for elegance. Magic lights begin to swirl around the young fairy, becoming blindingly bright as the greatest power in the known world is unleashed.

Spiralling into Yanari, the lights dance around her next, and Lykha shields her eyes as she tries to watch as much as she can. As the brightness of the light fades, Yanari’s face is visibly…

YOUNGER.

Assuming an age much closer to Lykha’s or even the girl herself, Yanari now appears to be no more than a teenager, in spite of having been a sage mere moments ago. She admires her hands, which had the liverspots and wrinkles of a wise old fairy, and are now as gleaming and smooth as the cheeks of a child. She admires her reflection in a mirror nearby.

But, what horrifies Lykha more is watching the girl. If Lykha hadn’t seen Yanari before, she might almost believe the wicked sage wished the wish ‘I wish to trade my age for your youth’, or something to that effect, as the young fairy instantly looks more than a decade older. Her wings fade the most quickly, losing their glow as she sinks to her feet and then her knees on the floor. Her skin seems to almost pale, as the almost glossy sheen typical of fairies, and which makes them look like beautiful maidens of the sky rather regardless of age, fades to a dull and normal skin tone. Her hair also loses any softness and whispiness, all but greying on the spot as it becomes nearly monochromatically bland and pale. Quite possibly the only notch lower than what happens to the young fairy is that her very soul leaves her body next, for she’s lost virtually everything else. Even her tears seem to be less vibrant and more bland.

Lykha had never met a wishless fairy until she met Maerin, and she assumed Maerin was old enough to be her mother just by the way the fairy chemist looks. Though her body is more filled out indicating she is in fact older, she may not be necessarily as far apart from Lykha as she once thought, having seen a fairy’s wish get expended with her own eyes.

As the young fairy sniffles on the floor, Yanari finishes admiring her newly-reclaimed youth and beauty, and she smiles directly at Lykha, all but literally piercing the heart of the young fairy adventurer.

With an amused and contented sigh, Yanari says tenderly -wickedly-, “Ahh, thank you, child.”

“M-My sister…?”

“Yes, yes. I suppose.” Yanari withdraws a small fabric pouch, tossing it to the young fairy. “Give this to her. She’ll be all better in moments.”

The young girl catches it, saying desperately thankfully, “Th-Thank you so much, Nana!” She sniffles, wiping her eyes. “H-Hear that, Seaevvi!? Y-You’re going to get better!”

Lykha screams, “YANARI! YOU MONSTER!”

The fairy sage smirks at her, waving at her as she flies up towards the ceiling. She connects a small glass jar to a hose leading to a magical apparatus in the ceiling, filling the jar with a purple smoke. She then carries the jar back down as the young fairy is finishing feeding the medicine to ‘Seaevvi’. The youngest fairy never noticed the sage leave or return.

Seaevvi coughs back to life, slowly moving on her own as she seems to regain motor functions. Her skin even heals where it was damaged by the disease. The youngest fairy cries out in joy.

When Seaevvi sits up, however, Yanari kneels down. “Let me just say one thing;” She suddenly sprays the purple smoke in Seaevvi’s face, like a single-shot perfume spritzer. Seaevvi shakes her head in startled surprise, but then her expression seems to go blank as her younger sister cries out, “Wh-What are you doing!? I-I already paid your price!”

Yanari blasts the girl away with a simple magical shockwave spell. It won’t kill the girl, but it tosses her a few feet away on the ground. The fairy sage replies coldly, “I set the price, not you.”

She then says to Seaevvi, “Seaevvi the fairy, grant my wish and then you are free. I wish my newly obtained powercore would stay powered on forever.”

Lykha watches the whole scene play out once more, and she screams as loud as she can, trying to stop it or disrupt it or something -anything-. She is powerless, and worse than being strapped to Mury’s back, she can’t help at all.

And, the granted wish causes a glow in the floor to illuminated, waterfalls to start flowing, propellers to spin on the ceiling, and the air to grow a little cooler. Lykha stares at the equipment in disbelief. Not only did Yanari just commit the ultimate betrayal, she did so for mere conveniences.

Yanari smiles as Seaevvi regains her senses, now also without her wish as the younger sister cries out, “S-Seaevvi! How could you do this to her!?”

The treacherous deceitfully youthful looking fairy replies with her arms crossed, “You should be thanking me. Not only did I save your sister’s life, but now, you have no reason to separate. Now, be gone from my sight. I have other matters to attend to.” She winks at Lykha, and Lykha’s heart twists and roils in rage and fear. She screams, “I’LL KILL YOU, YANARI! YOU WICKED TRAITOR! YOU MONSTER! I’LL…!”

Yanari hovers up to in front of Lykha, saying as she does, “Now, now, Lykha. No need to rush. Your turn is next, child.”

She smirks wickedly, adding facetiously, “Come closer, child.” She feigns glancing over her shoulder, grinning at the younger fairy still trapped in a jar.

However, glass explodes from the wall as a figure tumbles into the room, and Yanari whirls in genuine surprise. A window that apparently looks out over a cliff above the forest was just smashed inwards, and the figure that did so makes Lykha’s heart race for an entirely new reason.

Or, rather, the same reason as usual.

Murtoa of Lakia rises to his full -or, almost full- height, slouching slightly due to the low ceiling touching his helmet. Though his illness and worsening injury as a result collectively have him weakened, he is still the human warrior that pulled Lykha out of the very pits of despair on more than a handful of occasions.

Yanari, though surprised to see him, growls angrily, “You must truly be him, then, huh? I thought this foolish girl was merely bluffing or deluded.”

Mury replies as he tries to figure out how best to engage her, stalking in a low crouch away from the window, “I’m not sure who you’re referring to, but I’d like my friend back.”

Lykha clutches her collar in anticipation, forgetting for the moment the blood from her hands that will stain her clothes.

“Tell me, Murtoa of Lakia; are the rumors true? Are you, in fact, blessed by the Goddess?”

“I wouldn’t know. I’m just a person.” He quickly throws one of his throwing knives, but Yanari whirls out of the way, casting a powerful spell that distorts the air and tumbles him when it hits him.

Though Murtoa of Lakia has saved Lykha multiple times already, this time will not be so simple.

***