Later, Ren invited Fiona and Irin for archery practice in the Emerald Forest. He had grown close to Fiona after meeting her during diplomatic visits, but he had no idea Irin harbored feelings for him.
3 years ago,Fiona was bold and unafraid. When Irin had once been bullied by other fairies, it was Fiona who stood up for her. Ren respected her deeply for that.
As they practiced, Ren's arrow flew wildly into a dense, shadowed part of the forest. Curious, he stepped in to retrieve it, but the arrow had vanished.
"I'll check it out," he said.
"Should we follow?" Fiona asked.
"No. Stay here with Irin."
But Irin wasn't there anymore.
Fiona turned to a nearby guard. "Where did she go?"
"She was picking flowers by the pond… then vanished. I'll look for her."
---
Unaware of the brewing danger, Irin stood on the edge of a valley, arranging wildflowers into a bouquet. Her heart pounded with nervous excitement.
"I'll confess today…" she whispered.
She thought back to a memory—Ren at Fiona's estate, speaking with Fiona's father about border disputes. She remembered how he secretly glanced at her while she played chess with Fiona, how he smiled slightly at her laughter.
She didn't know—he remembered that too.
As petals flew in the breeze, something stirred in the valley behind her. A distant hum… an ancient echo…
Something… was watching.
---
The north wind tore through the emerald canopy, carrying a single, desperate cry.
"help!"
But it was Ren's voice, ragged and loud, echoing from somewhere deeper in the woods.
---
'The Voice in the North'
Irin's heart lurched. Ren!
She dropped the half-woven lily crown in her hands and sprinted toward the sound. The forest grew darker with every step, branches clawing at her gown. Halfway down the slope she felt it—a sticky chill, as though frost slid over her skin.
A blue shadow flitted between the trees, matching her pace. She spun, panting. Nothing. Only the drip of distant water. Goose-bumps prickled her arms. She ran harder.
---
In the Abandoned Cave
Roots opened like black fangs around a cavern mouth. Irin staggered inside, breath shallow. At the centre of the cave loomed a mirror taller than three men, framed in silver thorns. Ren knelt before it, arms braced against the glass while smoky tendrils siphoned light from his chest.
"Ren!" She dashed forward.
"Stay back!" he gasped, energy crackling around his palms. "It'll swallow you too."
Irin pressed trembling fingers to the mirror's rim, pouring every spark of her weak fairy magic into it. The glass trembled but held. I'm not strong enough. Her village bullies had always said so, and now she felt each cruel word sink its teeth.
Tears blurred her vision. "Somebody—please!"
Silver light flooded the cave entrance. Fiona burst in, wings flaring,
"Irin—move!"
She slammed both palms against the mirror; divine sigils spiralled outward, scoring the surface. A thin crack appeared.
Irin swallowed doubt, pressed her hands over Fiona's, and let her own power flow into her friend. The mirror shrieked. Webs of fracture crawled across the glass until—
KRASH!
The mirror shattered. Ren collapsed to the stone floor, drained, free.
---
Shards still hung in mid-air, quivering. A slow, mocking clap echoed.
"Brilliant," a velvet voice purred. "Care to guess my name as well?"
Purple vapour coalesced into a tall woman with midnight curls and a spider tattoo curling up her neck.
Fiona's eyes narrowed. "Lady Liora."
"Precisely." Liora's smile vanished; she flashed beside Fiona, fingers closing round Fiona's throat. Irin rushed forward, but Liora's back-hand sent her sprawling.
"I have waited a thousand years, my friend," Liora hissed. "Now, awaken."
Golden light flared from the tattoo on Fiona's hand—and the identical mark on Irin's. Fiona swayed, consciousness flickering.
Ren dragged his blade across the floor, forcing himself upright. "Release her!"
He lunged. Liora laughed and vanished into swirling smoke.
---
The shattered glass pulled itself together, spinning like a whirlpool. Power built—dense, suffocating, unstoppable.
"It's going to explode," Ren breathed. He threw one arm around Fiona, pulling her tight to his chest, the other raising his blade to cast a hasty ward. "I won't let anything hurt you."
Irin watched—sharp, searing recognition flooding her chest. He loves her. A single, bittersweet smile trembled onto her lips even as tears spilled down.
I was always just the girl he rescued once…
----
BOOM— The mirror burst outward in a wave of white fire. Ren's shield held around himself and Fiona.
But Irin, standing alone, had only a heartbeat to brace.
A torrent of blue smoke raced in, faster than light. It wrapped her like silk, snatching her from the path of the blast. A gloved hand slid around her waist, yanking her against a solid chest.
The world tilted, the cave roof blurring past, and then they were gone—through a tear in space lit by storm-blue sparks.
Ren, kneeling amid settling dust, lifted Fiona—unconscious but safe. Only then did he realise:
"Irin…?"
She was nowhere.
---
In the Mountain
High above, beneath a crooked crescent moon, a lone figure stepped onto a windswept ledge. Black-and-blue suit, gleaming shoulder-length hair, molten-gold eyes.
In his arms, Irin lay limp as a wildflower under frost.
King Dylan of the Blue Moon Kingdom looked down at the fairy he had stolen from death's jaws. A storm brewed behind his eyes—thunderous, ancient, unspoken.
He whispered to the night:
"The game begins again."