High above the endless stars lay a planet unlike any other—Mestories, the homeland of the fairies. It was a world of eternal spring, where blossoms danced upon the breeze and rivers of crystal water shimmered under twin moons.
The skies were painted in shades of lavender and gold, filled with floating islands where fairies soared gracefully on wings that sparkled like diamonds. Enchanted forests stretched across the land, their glowing flowers illuminating the night with soft, dreamlike light.
The capital city, built of gleaming marble and pure starlight, stood tall at the heart of the planet. Spires reached toward the heavens, adorned with vines of luminous roses that never withered. Magic pulsed through every stone, every leaf, every breath of wind.
In the palace garden, laughter rang like silver bells. Young fairies danced among waterfalls that curved through the air like ribbons, their wings trailing streams of glitter. To the fairies, such beauty was not luxury—it was home, the very essence of their existence.
The people of Mestories were kind and harmonious, their songs of joy carried by the winds across the land. Unlike other worlds, they did not hunger, nor wage wars for power. Their strength lay in unity, and their hearts were bound to the sacred prophecy that had guided them for centuries.
"When darkness descends, two heroes shall rise. Bound by fate, they will protect the worlds."
The prophecy was more than ancient words—it was their hope, their shield against the shadow that always threatened from afar.
At the very center of the palace, Princess Fiona, daughter of the Fairy Queen, stood upon a balcony, her silver hair flowing like moonlight. Her violet-blue eyes gazed out at her kingdom, a gentle smile touching her lips. She loved her people dearly, and they loved her in return.
To Fiona, Mestories was not just her home—it was a paradise worth protecting with her life.
"Long live the harmony of Mestories," she whispered, her voice carried softly by the wind.
But harmony was fragile.
Far beyond the peaceful skies, in the dark abyss where starlight did not reach, shadows stirred. The ground of distant realms trembled with a hunger that had slept for far too long.
The flowers in the palace garden suddenly quivered, as though a cold breeze had passed through them. Fiona's smile faltered. Her heart tightened, though she could not explain why.
The twin moons dimmed for the briefest moment, their glow veiled by a sinister cloud.
And in the farthest corner of the galaxy, beyond the fairy's sight, the first tendrils of darkness began to unfurl—black smoke twisting, spreading, reaching.
The people of Mestories still sang, unaware. But the prophecy… had begun to awaken.
From the void, a pair of crimson eyes slowly opened.
The peace of Mestories would not last.
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To be continued...