The sun had just set as I descended the path leading to the fence marking the edges of Dartveyn. Music floated from the village, its melody fading somewhere among the trees. The festive lights beckoned, and with a smile, I pushed open the wooden plank offering a shortcut and a discreet entrance to the Haven Square.

Around me, villagers sang and danced, while others took the opportunity to sell various wares to the merry passersby. In the distance, I spotted Finnegan, the tavern keeper who served the finest beers in all of Ethria. He was conversing with a man and a woman dressed in dark clothing with light hair, whom I recognized instantly. As I approached, the young woman spotted me and offered a radiant smile before throwing herself into my arms.

"Kassy! You managed to come after all!"

With a laugh, I wrapped my arms around her waist and buried my head in her neck, relieved to finally hold her in my arms. Our moments together were becoming increasingly rare... It had almost been a month since the last time. I had missed her.

"Yes. Well, I had to play a bit of a double agent, but here I am!"

The man standing next to her offered me a smile. Taller than me by a head, he gently bent his knees to encircle my waist with his muscular arm, the other holding a large oak pint filled with beer. He pressed a kiss to my temple and straightened up before leaning against the counter, where Finnegan offered his fist for me to bump mine against.

"Let me guess," Draven speculated, a smirk playing on his lips. "Your father locked you in your room and you flirted with the guard to make him look the other way for a few seconds?"

I laughed before taking his beer from his hands and taking a sip.

"Close. Mr. Asshole was there, it would never have worked. I had to be a bit more imaginative..."

Love, whose long blonde hair cascaded over her hips as she tilted her head to laugh, gave me a knowing look and shook her head gently. "Gwen."

I smiled.

"Gwen," I confirmed, as Draven looked at me, confused.

"Kassy and Gwen look very much alike," his sister explained, with an impish smile. "You'd like her a lot..."

Draven shook his head and raised his large green eyes to meet mine. I ignored Love's comment; she had always hoped that one day her brother and I would become more than just friends. It had never happened, and even though Draven had the charisma he liked to use on me, he had never crossed the line, and neither had I. It just wasn't like that between us.

"I styled my hair like hers, wore her apron and dress over my clothes, and that was enough to fool the guards," I added before Love. "I had her called to my room, so they didn't question it when she left after my ‘daily grooming.'"

My friend raised an eyebrow, a mischievous look on his face. I knew what he was thinking. How could they mistake me for a servant? First, because they're dumb. Then, because Gwen and I could easily pass for sisters, and in the past, I had used that to my advantage quite often. However, this was the first time she was aware of my scheme, since I usually used the laundry room to exit, without needing to be anywhere else. But this time, someone had to stay in the vastness that served as my room.

She wouldn't get bored, I was sure of it.

Draven, shaking his head with a laugh, slowly pivoted his torso towards Finnegan, all the while keeping his eyes fixed on me. “The lady must surely be thirsty after such a journey on foot, isn't that right? What do you have to offer her, Finn?”

The giant smiled at me with his golden teeth, some missing due to his numerous brawls in the various taverns he had visited before landing here and making it his home. His massive arms, with biceps easily the size of my head, grabbed a oak pint similar to the one Draven was holding, and he fixed his small black eyes on me. One was smaller than the other, and it slightly crossed over a point above my face. Clutching his thick, braided gray beard, he pretended to ponder. “As a matter of fact, I was looking for volunteers to try a new experiment... Are you up for it?”

His eyes quickly scanned between me, Draven, and Love. The latter gave me a playful look, and I already knew that whatever Finnegan was about to serve us, she was in. Draven, on the other hand, lifted his chin to urge the tavern keeper to reveal more.

“A friend visited me a few days ago,” he announced, pulling out a large glass bottle that resembled a round-bottomed elixir jar. Its elegant shape evoked the silhouette of an ancient amphora, rounded at the base and gracefully tapering towards the top. A cork, weathered by time and marked by the fingerprints of eager hands that had manipulated it, sealed its precious contents tightly.

Twisted and knotted vines snaked around the jar, winding around its shape with an almost organic grace. Their delicate leaves and vibrant flowers added a touch of color to the smooth surface of the glass, creating a striking contrast between the lush plant life and the crystalline purity of the elixir contained within. The jar itself seemed to pulsate with energy, as if it held within it a mystical force ready to be unleashed once the cork was removed.

Finnegan gently rotated the contents, whose bright and luminous colors danced and mingled hypnotically through the liquid, creating a captivating visual spectacle.

He continued. “He concocted this stuff for me. It's called Nectar of Pixies,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

Before him, three pairs of eyes exchanged a knowing smile. Nectar of Pixies? Seriously? Draven couldn't help but let out the laughter bubbling up in his throat.

Finnegan revealed a smug smirk at the corners of his lips, catching the gaze of my friend, who immediately fell silent and cleared his throat. “It's said to be an enchanting drink, each sip awakening a sense of lightness in the soul. The Nectar of Pixies is more than just a simple alcoholic beverage; it's a sensory experience that transports drinkers to distant lands where the laughter of pixies resonates in the air and where every moment is imbued with joy and magic. Just a single drop of this magical brew is enough to ignite the imagination and inspire celebration of the beauty of the world around us.”

Captivated by his words, we had unconsciously leaned in to observe the liquid inside. Finnegan chuckled softly, slamming three pints on the counter. “With this, my comrades, you'll be in for a night of dancing and revelry until dawn. Or not. You'll let me know.”

I glanced at my friends, who returned the same knowing smile. We nodded towards the tavern keeper, who opened the bottle, its cork emitting a slight snap.

Instantly, my nose dove into the cup he handed me to inhale its contents. A scent of fairy gardens and enchanted woods wafted out. Its shimmering color, a sparkling emerald green, caught my attention. With the first sip, my taste buds were caressed by a sweet, reminiscent of delicate flower petals and ripe fruits from magical orchards.

A slight fizz tickled my senses, releasing an enchanting aroma of mystery and magic, while subtle notes of golden honey and spring breeze danced on my tongue.

Unexpectedly, a burst of uncontrollable laughter escaped me, followed by my friends’. Several pairs of eyes turned in our direction, but none held ill intentions. People knew us here. Draven and Love had lived here all their lives, and I came whenever I had the chance. The locals here didn't care about the comings and goings of the princess of Ethria. They were human, festive, loving... I considered them my family.

A young girl, whom I immediately recognized, hurried to encircle my legs with her small arms, her long red hair cascading down her back. Today, she had braided them, and pretty yellow and blue flowers were woven into the strands of her hair. "Kassy!" she exclaimed, raising her large whitish eyes to smile at me.

She had a very pale violet skin, which she carried with an ease I had never seen before. So many times, I had seen her hide behind her big red mop to avoid the stares of others. Lirael was an elf whose parents had mysteriously disappeared several years ago, when she was three. Finnegan had helped her and brought her here with him; he was now like a father to her... but the population wasn't overflowing with fantastic beings, in Dartveyn, Lirael was, so to speak, the only elf for miles around. However, she had been wonderfully accepted among the Dartveynians; she was ten now, and she was one of them.

I joyfully gazed at her little pointed ears, touching one with my fingertips. They had grown again.

"It's been a long time since we've seen you here! Papa has a friend who came, look what he showed me!" Excitedly, she leaped onto her small legs to throw herself into the grass near us, planting her violet hands among the twigs. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, under our three captivated human gazes who had just swallowed a fairy elixir that was about to take effect. When buds began to sprout rapidly from the ground, a gasp rose in my throat, and I tightly closed my mouth, before falling to my knees. Wide-eyed, I ignored Love's little cries, who was just as amazed as I was. Draven crouched down to touch a newborn flower with his fingertips.

"Did you...?" I breathed, stroking a pink petal.

"Yes! Isn't it cool? I can do magic too! Like..." She lowered her eyes gently, a sadness emanating from her small fragile body. I gently caressed her cheek before taking her in my arms.

"And you'll become as magical as them, I'm sure of it." I planted a kiss on her forehead, and she smiled at me. Unexpectedly, she straightened up and grabbed Draven's hand and mine to drag us further into the meadow before gesturing to Love. "Come on! The dance has already started a long time ago!"

With a laugh, we followed her to a small path through the trees where the music was intensifying. Knowing the way already, she didn't need to inform us of where we were going. With eyes filled with the ecstasy brought on by the Nectar of Pixies, Draven playfully grabbed my hand as soon as the path opened onto the huge dance floor where fireflies flew and illuminated the earth. Lanterns floated among them, and hundreds of villagers swayed against each other to the rhythm of the music. My friend pulled me to the center, and I caught his sister mid-air to pull her along with us.

In our haste, I bumped into a man clad in a black tunic, who wrapped his arms around my waist to prevent me from falling. His black eyes locked with mine, and I slowly furrowed my brow, a strange sense of unease creeping into my chest.

"Sorry," I breathed, out of breath from the run.

His black pupils never left me as he nodded once, then swiftly departed as quickly as he had arrived. My friends tilted their heads in question, and I responded with the same nod that the man had given me, signaling to them that everything was fine. I shook off the unease from my body and continued on my way.Lirael had found a friend whom she brought in our direction, laughing. Some locals greeted me with a smile, and we wasted no time before moving to the enchanting sound of the instruments, under the dizziness and euphoria caused by the elixir.

~

Several hours later, the music began to fade, while the sun began to rise. Draven, Love, and I were in a tight embrace, standing at the center of the village, still partially under the influence of the drink, when a muffled cry reached our ears. Startled, I fell onto my backside and shook my head, my friend rushing towards me.

"What was that?" Draven demanded, teeth clenched, his blond hair falling wildly across his face, a testament to the night we had just spent.

Love burst into laughter, and after a few seconds, her expression turned serious as she realized that the cry had occurred in reality, not in her head. I swallowed softly, noticing that it was now the hour when the sun began to rise, and hopefully, Gwendolyn was still in my room waiting for me in the kingdom.

"I don't know," I whispered, rising slowly, my body bumping into Draven's chest. A few steps away, a woman had knelt near her cottage. Rushing towards her, alarmed, we did not notice the reason for her tears, which doubled every second.

"Ma'am, are you alright? Are you injured?" Love questioned, her hand over her heart. The woman vigorously shook her head, bringing her trembling fingers to her lips, then, in a whisper, she raised her eyes and looked into the distance. She delicately raised her arm, her pointed finger turning towards a field that, normally, was covered with flourishing nature whose colors vibrated with joy and magic.

Looking up, I noticed that it was not the case anymore, and, with a jolt of horror, I took a step back as I discovered the thousands of flowers and trees dying and resembling the appearance of cooled embers after a fire's extinguishment.

Turning around slowly, the horror continued as we noticed that every trace of nature was taking on the same appearance at a frightening speed. The old woman had stopped moving, but she let out a sigh that sent shivers down my spine: "He's returned.”