Chapter 231

Light Fae Realm:

The first thing she heard every morning was water.

It never truly stopped flowing.

The sound drifted through every open balcony, every crystal archway, and every flowering courtyard, weaving itself into the realm until silence no longer existed here. Even the breeze seemed to move with its rhythm.

Morning arrived differently within the Light Fae Realm.

The sky never brightened all at once.

Instead, light bloomed.

Soft gold spread beneath rivers suspended in the air, filtering through sheets of enchanted water that floated between towers like ribbons caught in an endless current.

They poured upward before folding back toward the earth again, defying every law the mortal realms had ever known.

The streams glowed.

Tiny silver fish swam inside them, leaving trails of pale light wherever they passed.

Some of the water drifted so close to the palace balconies that anyone standing there could reach out and trail their fingers through it without ever becoming wet.

The water chose whether it wished to touch you. Everything here seemed alive.

Trees bent their branches toward passing visitors, and flowers slowly opened whenever someone walked by before folding themselves closed again after they had passed.

Even the marble beneath one’s feet shimmered with faint veins of light. The palace itself breathed.

Beauty simply existed here.

The palace rose from the middle of an enormous lake so impossibly clear that the buildings seemed suspended above the sky itself.

Thousands of bridges crossed the water. None ever remained where they had been the day before.

They rearranged themselves each dawn.

Visitors either learned to trust the bridges, or they learned to swim.

She smiled faintly.

She had fallen into the lake only once.

The memory still made her laugh.

A tiny voice squealed happily behind her.

She turned just in time for something no larger than the palm of her hand to collide with her cheek.

She caught the tiny creature before it could tumble onto the floor.

“Hi, Elora.”

The little fae giggled.

Her transparent wings fluttered so quickly they became nothing but shimmering light.

She had bright green curls no longer than a fingertip, tiny pointed ears, and eyes the color of spring leaves.

She folded both tiny hands together dramatically.

“I was hiding.”

The lady giggled. “You were hiding badly.”

The tiny fae gasped. “I was invisible.”

She lifted the little fae onto her palm.

Immediately two others darted from somewhere inside the flowering vines climbing the balcony pillars.

One landed comfortably upon her wrist.

The other perched atop her shoulder. Their combined weight barely felt heavier than flower petals.

“Good morning,” one chimed.

“You overslept,” another accused.

“I love this hairstyle on you. Its beautiful.”

The tiny fae all spoke at once, and began arguing at once.

She listened patiently.

They argued about everything, and nothing at once, as they also considered whether mushrooms should be considered n furniture.

Yesterday they had spent nearly an hour debating whether ducks possessed enough dignity to deserve names.

She never interrupted them.

Eventually they exhausted themselves.

The smallest climbed onto her thumb. “You seem sad today.”

She blinked. “It’s that time of the year again.”

The tiny fae nodded earnestly. “Your smile reached your mouth…” She poked gently at her own tiny face. “…but not your eyes.”

She looked beyond the balcony.

The floating rivers glittered beneath the morning sun. Every single spot looked beautiful, peaceful, and perfect.

Yet somewhere beneath all that perfection, something continued pulling at her.

A thread she had never been able to cut.

She stood, and the tiny fae immediately scattered into the air like drifting dandelion seeds before circling back around her.

“Come.”

They followed happily.

The Light Fae had never believed cages required iron. Freedom could be just as effective, especially when there was nowhere left to return to.

She walked through halls grown from living crystal instead of stone.

Water flowed beneath the transparent floors, and schools of glowing fish swam lazily underneath every corridor.

Servants smiled as they passed.

Some bowed, and some simply wished her a pleasant morning.

Children ran through the palace gardens laughing, chased by palm-sized fae carrying flower petals much larger than themselves.

Everything moved with quiet harmony. It was kind. Wonderfully kind. Yet kindness could still imprison anyone.

She reached an open courtyard surrounded by waterfalls.

The water fell upward.

It gathered from the pools below before rising toward the floating rivers overhead, sparkling like strings of diamonds.

At the center waited a shallow circular basin carved from white crystal.

That was the enchanted pool.

She approached it slowly. The tiny fae hovering nearby immediately quieted. They knew this place, and even they respected it.

She knelt before the water.

The water remained perfectly still.

It reflected nothing. Not even the sky, or her face. She extended one hand above its surface, and closed her eyes.

She whispered words some chants. The language flowed softly from her tongue.

The water answered, and ripples spread outward. Silver light bloomed beneath the surface, and the basin deepened impossibly.

The reflection disappeared, and darkness filled it.

Then shapes of three running figures appeared. One collapsed onto his knees, another tore apart parchment without realizing it, and the last gripped a tree so tightly the bark splintered beneath his fingers.

She stopped breathing.

Her hand trembled with memories. The tiny fae looked between the water and her face.

“What do you see?” One of the fae asked.

She couldn’t answer.

The water sharpened, and three men now stood together.

They loled broken, terrified, and broken.

She watched one of them clutch his own chest as though his heart had stopped beating.

Another stared into empty air with haunted eyes. The third whispered something she could not hear.

Tears filled her eyes before she even understood why.

“Still alive.” She mumured with longing.

One of the tiny fae climbed onto the edge of the basin.

“They’re beautiful.”

“They’re hurting,” she whispered, feeling a tug at her heart.

The smallest tilted her head. “What happened to them?”

She never answered. Her fingertips hovered just above the enchanted water, almost touching it.

Then a voice drifted from somewhere beyond the courtyard, warm, gentle, and familiar.

“Beatrice?”