Lucian felt uneasy the next morning.
There was no clear reason for it, yet as he walked through the village, he couldn't shake the strange restlessness gnawing at his chest. It wasn't just him either.
The air felt heavier than usual, thick with a tension that refused to dissipate.
Even the fairies, who were usually buzzing about in playful, mischievous ways, seemed agitated. Their wings flickered erratically, and their movements were sharper, almost hostile.
Berry was kneeling in the fields, tending to the crops with his usual care when a group of fairies suddenly swooped down toward him, their hands glowing faintly with magic.
Berry flinched back in surprise, nearly dropping the herbs he was gathering, but before things could escalate, the fairies froze midair, as if realizing what they had just done.
"We're… sorry. We didn't mean to attack. It was an instinct."
One of them said quickly, lowering her head.
"We're sorry…"
"Not attack…"
