Whispers in the Mist

The standing stones pulsed faintly, their eerie glow bathing the children in silver and blue light. The air inside the circle remained untouched by the wind, still and charged, humming with unseen energy.

For the first time since their flight from the Fallens reach, they felt… safe.

For now. Ophelia sat cross-legged beside the altar, flipping through the magic book. Ember was nearby, tracing patterns in the air, blue light curling from her fingertips, dancing like flame. Freya was practicing levitation, her fingers outstretched as a small rock trembled above her palm.

Alex sat apart from the others, watching.

Watching as Ciaran stood close to Tig, whispering something that made her smile. That easy grin, the one that Alex used to think was meant only for him, now belonged to a stranger. The boy who had appeared out of nowhere. The boy who already knew things they did not.

His stomach twisted.

But he pushed the feeling aside.

They needed to train.

Their magic was still weak, unpredictable. He had to focus.

"Alright," Ophelia said, standing. "We need to try something bigger."

Freya gave her a look. "Bigger than moving pebbles?"

"Yes." Ophelia grinned. "Let's try combining magic."

Alex crossed his arms. "That sounds dangerous."

"That is dangerous," Tig added, but excitement lit her tired eyes.

Ophelia ignored them and grabbed Freya's hand. "Focus. You control wind, I'll control force."

Freya took a deep breath and nodded.

They closed their eyes.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then, the air trembled. A gust of wind spiraled between them, lifting dirt and leaves, making Freya's curls float as if caught in an unseen tide. Ophelia gritted her teeth, hands outstretched, her own magic pressing against the wind, shaping it.

The wind thickened, spinning faster.

Pip let out a laugh. "It is working!"

Then—

The force snapped.

A shockwave rippled outward, sending everyone stumbling backward.Freya hit the ground, groaning. "Well," she muttered. "That almost worked."

Tig laughed breathlessly. "Next time, let us not aim it at ourselves."

Alex dusted off his cloak. Despite himself, he smirked. "At least we know we can do it."

They kept practicing. Spells flickered in the air, light and sound weaving together in new ways. Their power was growing.

But magic was draining, and as exhaustion set in, their movements slowed, their eyes heavy.

The warmth of the altar's glow beckoned. The stones hummed like a lullaby.

One by one, they drifted into sleep.

A thick mist crept into the circle, curling around their sleeping forms. It was slow, patient, threading through the spaces between them.

Then—

A shift in the air.

Two figures emerge. One, tall and radiant, with hair like spun silver and eyes like shattered stars. She moved like liquid moonlight, her gown shifting between hues of violet and deep twilight blue. Oona, Queen of the Fae.

Beside her stood a man of equal beauty, his presence as commanding as it was unearthly. Golden-haired, eyes like molten amber, his smirk both cruel and knowing. His emerald cloak shimmered like dragon scales, and his fingers twitched as if eager to take.

Finvarra, the Fae King.

They gazed upon the sleeping children with quiet satisfaction.

"These will make fine additions to our collection," Fin murmured.

"Indeed," Oona agreed, stepping closer, brushing a cold finger along Freya's cheek. "Triplets. How rare. How precious. Must we leave them here?"

" Patience, my love", Finn said, " we can snatch our pets, after teaching the king a lesson. Let him worry and fret about the game" Finn said with a smile playing around his lips.

" But Finn, triplets. There shall be many after them," Oona pouted.

" Maybe, but we need the Harbinger also, even then our collection is one short. I am tempted to let them wake the sleeping Queen, then we will have them all! A full set!" Finn exclaimed.

She paused over Ember.

Her expression flickered.

Fin frowned. "What is she?"

"I do not know," Oona admitted. "But she is not whole. Not fully mortal. Not fully ours."

Fin's gaze darkened. "A mistake, then?"

Oona tilted her head. "No. A spell of protection? Or a incantation gone wrong? They are young and magic cannot be controlled, only directed."

But they did not linger on Ember.

Their attention turned to the others.

Oona smiled. "We shall take the other girl. Make it appear as though we did not know we took the wrong one. She may not be as strong as the others now, but in the future? Perhaps," Oona said.

Fin chuckled. "They really should have chosen the riddle. If so, then Vew would not have come to find us to show us his latest tribute. We may not have found them in time without our little guardian. "

He extended a hand.

And the mist thickened, wrapping around Pip.

The Price of a Soul

Pip awoke to ice in her lungs.

She gasped, struggling—

But there was no ground beneath her feet.

Only air.

She was floating, weightless, the mist cradling her like a lover.

She saw the figures before her—saw the luminous beauty of the Queen, the deadly allure of the King.

And she knew.

Knew what they wanted.

"No," she whispered, thrashing. "No, let me go—"

Oona's lips curved. "Hush, little one. You should be honored."

Pip's blood turned to ice.The map.

She still had it.

And now it was theirs.

"No!" she choked out, reaching for her pocket—

Too late. The mist tightened. And the world blurred.

Ophelia awoke to a scream.

Her heart jolted as she sat up, panic crashing over her like a wave.

The mist was everywhere.

Shapes moved within it—dark, shifting.

Pip was gone.

"PIP!" Freya's voice was raw with fear.

Tig staggered to her feet, still groggy. "Where is she?"

Ophelia turned, searching frantically—

And then—A laugh,old and musical, echoed from the trees and wound its way around the standing stones.

"She is ours now."

The voice—Oona's—slithered through the mist, silk-soft, edged with iron.

Alex grabbed Ophelia's arm. "We have to go."

Ophelia's mind raced. The book. The warning.They had to run. But Pip—

The mist thickened, coiling around their feet. The Fae would not let them leave so easily.

"Hold hands!" Ophelia shouted.

The others obeyed.Tig, shaking but steady, threw up a shield. It flickered, weak, but it was enough.

For now.

Ophelia flipped through the book, her hands shaking. She hoped the book would show her something. Then amongst the empty pages a familiar scribbling could be seen faintly.

"There is a spell," she whispered. "A pathfinder spell. It will lead us out."

Freya squeezed her hand. "Do it

She did not hesitate.

"Reveal the way, part the veil—let us pass beyond the pale!" The runes on the stones blazed to life, and the mist shrieked. suddenly—

They were falling.

They landed hard, gasping from the sheer force of it.

The mist was gone.

They were outside the circle, sprawled in the grass.

But Pip was missing.

Silence.

Then—A sob.

Freya wiped at her eyes furiously. "She's gone."

Tig clenched her fists. "We have to get her back."

"We will." Ophelia's voice was steady, but her hands trembled.

Alex's jaw tightened. His eyes flickered to Ciaran, to Tig, to the group barely holding together.

And then, to Ember.

She sat apart from them, staring at her hands

The blue fire in her eyes flickered, her expression unreadable.

Alex shivered.

Something about her was changing.

And deep in the woods, where the mist lingered—The Fae King and Queen watched.

And smiled