The Mystery of the Fate Fairy
The full moon hung above the village sky. Its light slipped through the window that had been left open on purpose. Every lamp was turned off, leaving only one source of light: a small candle burning on the windowsill, its flame trembling as if it were holding its breath.
Rayan sat cross-legged on the floor. His breath was heavy, his fists clenched on his knees. In his mind, he repeated the rules he once read from an old parchment found in the house of an elderly man:
"One candle only."
"Do not let any other light in."
"Do not stop chanting the spell."
"And if something answers you... never try to look at it."
With a shaky voice, he began to chant:
"Fate Fairy, bringer of fortune... The wanderer asks for one wish... from the three stars... Lix... Fox... Zix..."
Silence. He repeated it again.
"Fate Fairy, bringer of fortune... The wanderer asks for one wish... from the three stars... Lix... Fox... Zix..."
Suddenly, the candle shook hard, even though the window was tightly closed. Shadows on the wall moved wildly, as if more than one person was inside the room.
Rayan gritted his teeth, cold sweat running down his temples. But he did not stop.
When he spoke the chant for the third time, the world seemed to hold its breath. The candle dimmed, then flared again. From the darkness, a voice appeared.
Not a human voice. It was deep and distant, like an echo from beneath the earth.
"Speak... your wish..."
Rayan froze. He had done it. He had truly done it. Something had answered his call.
His tongue felt heavy, but the greed in his chest pushed the words out.
"I... I want fortune. I want my path in life to open. I don't want to live poor and forgotten."
Silence. The candle flickered, its flame stretching taller, as though something stood right behind it.
Rayan bowed his head lower, remembering the rule: never look at it.
But curiosity ate at his thoughts. Something was there. It only needed one glance to know what it was.
His hands trembled. His breath grew uneven. The more he resisted, the stronger the urge became. His heart pounded, and a whisper seemed to echo: Look. You called me. Don't you want to know who I am?
Rayan bit his lip until blood came out, but he kept his head down.
Then... for a second, he slipped. His eyes moved, catching a glimpse of a dark shadow at the edge of the candlelight.
In that instant, the flame seemed to go out, then lit again. Rayan gasped. He saw nothing clear—only a blur of black. But his body grew heavy. His breath turned short.
Quickly, he pressed his hands together and lowered his head even more, pretending he saw nothing. Yet his face turned pale. His eyes empty. As though he had seen something forbidden.
From that night on, he changed.
He often smiled for no reason. Sometimes he whispered faintly, as if speaking to someone. And his eyes... they rarely looked straight. They always darted away, restless, as if something clung behind them.
The rule had been broken.
And the consequence had begun—though no one knew, except him.