As night falls, it feels different this time. There's no sharp contrast between light and dark, no gleam from the moon or stars. The sky hangs in perpetual dusk, as if the sun forgot to set. A golden glow lingers at the edge of every cloud, an eerie halo casting surreal light over everything.
It isn't like the first time we arrived, when day or night bled into a warm, relentless afternoon. This… is something else.
Is it because Scarlette bound the Light Fairy King Luxeron earlier with her powers, leaving him catatonic? Or because of the revelations she shared with me? I have no answers.
All I know is she deserves redemption—and so do I. And I won't let anything stop that.
Scarlette sleeps soundly in the room while I lie awake. Her story replays itself in my mind like an echo refusing to fade.
I watch her breathe, peaceful after a long day, and still can't believe what happened to her. She doesn't deserve it. But her past explains everything: the sharpness in her laugh, the defiance in her magic, the way she wields chaos like armor.
Just like she was hunted by King Baltimore, I was branded an enemy by Queen Judorah. Deemed foolish for wanting to become human. Forced, again and again, to join their plans for domination—for destruction. For what? Power? A bitter ending?
Yes, I absorb the dark magic of those who try to kill me. Am I evil for wanting to survive? I doubt it.
Sure, I hunt villains and kill them without remorse, but that is instinct. Lions hunt hyenas. Fewer hyenas mean safer gazelles. If I were human, I wouldn't need to kill. They call me the Hunter of Villains, the boogeyman, but I've been called worse.
Am I foolish for believing people are more than their beginnings? That we are our choices? No. But the other Dark Fairies never understand. They revel in destruction. I never fit in. I never wanted to.
Scarlette and I—we are outcasts. Dangerous not because of what we are, but because we refuse to be what they made us. And now, we are so close to altering reality itself.
Is it natural? Fate? Could we both get what we want from the same spell?
Could our dreams coexist when the Emerald, the scroll, and the Light Guardian finally come together?
And what happened to Lumera? She vanished. Maybe worse. The Light Guardian is still missing. Queen Judorah and the Dark Fairies—where are they? Does the Light Guardian even exist?
My head throbs.
Then—movement.
A sound outside shatters the silence.
I step out.
And freeze.
There, in the fading glow of dusk, is someone I thought I knew—Lumera. She stands calmly washing dishes, her movements eerily normal. Then she turns to face me.
My heart stops.
"Oh, hello, Ravos," she greets sweetly.
Goosebumps crawl across my skin.
No. This can't be real. Lumera is gone. Killed. Isn't she?
"Hi, Lumera. Good evening," I reply, forcing my voice steady.
"You sound so serious. Is everything alright?" she asks, tilting her head.
But as she steps closer, I instinctively back away.
Her eyes are bloodshot. Hollow. Too wide. Too forced. That smile—it doesn't belong to her.
"You're not Lumera," I say, voice tightening.
She throws her head back and laughs—a sharp, haughty sound.
"Veravos, I'll be damned," she croons, and just like that, I recognize the voice.
Queen Judorah.
"What did you do to her?" I demand.
"Must you ask the obvious, Veravos?" she purrs. "I ate her, of course."
The words hit me like a slap.
"All the missing Light Fairies… that was you?"
"Well, a few minions helped, so I can't claim all the credit," she giggles.
"You're wearing her skin," I growl. "That's beyond monstrous."
"Who cares about dignity? My cover makes hunting easier. No one suspects helpful, sweet, idealistic Lumera." Her eyes gleam with glee. "The Light Fairy Kingdom's tolerance of mixed-fairy couples makes infiltration a breeze. And the King? He erases anything… inconvenient. Even dead fairies."
"You'll pay for this."
"Threaten me all you want, Veravos," she coos, slipping into Lumera's smile with grotesque ease. "But right now, I'm her. Isn't that delicious?"
Her voice softens into Lumera's gentle cadence. "Well, hello there."
A chill runs down my spine.
"What do you want?" I ask, holding my ground.
"The Emerald, of course. Though mocking you is a bonus." Her smile twists. "Don't play dumb. I know you have it. Your rumors are clever, but I know your style."
She steps closer.
"A new Love Fairy in town? Ravos? Really?" She laughs. "And Lumera's house reappearing? Obvious. But I'm done playing."
Her eyes go dead.
"Where is it?"
Before I can answer, the air changes.
Scarlette steps beside me—silent, radiant, terrifying.
Queen Judorah pales.
"The Queen of Hearts and Ruin," she whispers. "In the flesh? I thought you were dead?"
Scarlette's smirk could carve stone.
"Finally," she says. "Someone remembers me."
Judorah vanishes. The door slams open. A bitter wind sweeps in, thick with the scent of rot and roses.
My breath hitsched.
"Are you alright?" Scarlette asks softly, anchoring me to the moment.
"She was here. Queen Judorah. She wore Lumera's face. She—"
Scarlette takes my hand. "She's gone. For now."
My eyes drift to the bed. The Emerald and the scroll glint faintly under the low light.
Scarlette follows my gaze. "Paranoia," she says dryly. "The night is full of terrors. Best to keep these close."
I nod, still uneasy.
"Scarlette," I say quietly, "if Judorah could take Lumera's form so easily… who's to say the other Dark Fairies haven't done the same?"
Scarlette doesn't respond immediately. Her silence says enough.
"She'll come back," I whisper. "She always does. She's the darkest of us all. I can't fight her alone."
"And that's probably why both you and Judorah still remember me. Darkness doesn't forget," Scarlette replies calmly. "We'll stop them."
But in her eyes—just for a second—I see a crack. The faintest flicker of doubt. Then it vanishes.
"For now," she says, "we rest. She won't return tonight."
I let out a long breath.
Of course, Judorah fled the moment she saw Scarlette. I doubt she'll return too. Not tonight, at least.
Then, almost absently, I ask, "What does the scroll say?"
"You can't read it," Scarlette replies at once, her tone sharp, certain. "Only the Light Guardian can."
The words feel final.
Normally, I would've pressed her. Questioned everything. But not this time. Not tonight.
After everything we've been through… tonight, I trust her.