Chapter Text
I have never seen the night sky this clearly.
Endless above me, every star stood out against the dark. There were more than I could count, scattered in patterns I almost recognized.
A few shone brighter than the rest; planets, probably. The largest one had to be Mars, or maybe Venus. I wasn’t sure, but it didn’t matter. It felt like I could stare at it forever.
It’s beautiful.
The thought came easily. Way too easily. Then it hit me.
It’s night.
I sat up too fast, making myself dizzy as my breath caught, awareness rushed back all at once.
“Shit,” I muttered. My head turned quickly, scanning the space around me. Trees. Too many. Too close. Pitch black forest.
I’m still here. Alone and at night.
“God, that was stupid,” I said, pushing myself to my feet. My legs protested, stiff from being still too long. I steadied myself and looked around again, this time more carefully.
Something fell around me as I moved. A soft sound close to me. I looked down. Leaves slid from my arms and lap, brushing against my hands as they fell.
For a moment I just stared at them, my thoughts stalling. There were too many. They had been gathered around me, layered unnaturally surrounding where I was lying before.
I didn’t do this.
I know I didn’t.
Slowly, I lifted my gaze.
An elm tree towered above me, its branches spreading wide overhead. The ground around its trunk is mostly bare, only a few scattered leaves resting there.
Nothing like what had been on me. It was only on me.
Unease crept in the back of my mind.
I brushed the remaining leaves off my clothes, a little quicker than necessary. “It’s nothing,” I muttered, more to fill the silence than anything else.
There had to be an explanation. I just missed it.
I reached for my phone. The screen lit up, too bright in the dark, making me squint. For a second, I focused only on the time.
11:07 PM.
“Great.”
Then the notifications come into focus. Messages. A lot of them.
My thumb moved before I really thought about it, tapping the screen, scrolling through them. Names I recognized filled the screen, the messages stacking on top of each other.
"Are you okay?" "Where are you?" "Please answer." "I’m worried about you." "You should talk to someone."
I kept scrolling. Earlier today. Yesterday. Then further back. Days. Weeks. I stopped.
My fingers hovered over the screen, suddenly still. For a moment I just stared, not really processing it. The words are blurred together, repeating the same concern over and over again.
Weeks. That didn’t make sense. It couldn’t have been that long.
I inhaled slowly, then let it out, forcing the thought away. I’ll respond later.
The idea came easily, like it always did.
I locked the phone before I could think about it any longer. The screen went dark, cutting off the messages completely.
Left in the dark forest, I glanced up at the sky again, at the stars that had caught my attention just moments ago. But they don’t feel the same.
I shouldn’t still be here this late. I knew better. I had only come during the day for a reason. Forests weren’t safe at night. And yet, I had fallen asleep.
“Smart,” the words sounded flat.
My throat ached in a dull, lingering way that made swallowing uncomfortable. I pressed my lips together and exhaled through my nose, ignoring it.
I had gotten too comfortable. Letting my guard down like this place was safe just because it had felt that way earlier. Like that meant anything.
Glancing once more at the elm before stepping away from it, I couldn’t help the scoff that left my lips.
My eyes adjusted slowly to the darkness, picking out shapes where there had only been shadows a moment ago. Good, I needed to leave.
The pond wasn’t far. I just had to find it again, then I would find my way out. I turned, scanning the trees, trying to remember the direction I had come from.
The forest didn’t look the same anymore. Everything blended together, trunks and branches repeating in patterns that made it hard to tell one direction from another.
Then something caught my eye. A faint glow in the distance. I let out a quiet breath.
“Fireflies.”
Relief came quickly. Something normal. Something that made sense.
I took a step toward the light. Then another. The glow shifted, drifting closer, and something about it made me slow. My eyes narrowed slightly as I focused on it.
They were too bright. Not flickering the way fireflies should. Not scattered. They moved together, circling each other quickly. Pausing at times. Watching what was ahead of them.
I stopped.
A chill ran through me as one of them broke away from the others and drifted closer.
Close enough that I could see it clearly.
Not a light. A shape. Small, no larger than my hand. Thin limbs, barely visible against the glow. Wings stretched from its back, delicate and veined, the membranes catching and holding the light that came from within it.
Not from outside. From inside. From its chest.
I didn’t move. I couldn’t move.
There were more of them now, hovering just beyond, their faint light outlining their forms in the dark.
Definitely not fireflies. Something else entirely.
I didn’t scream, though the thought crossed my mind. I just stared. My body stayed still, like moving suddenly would make them disappear, or worse, make them react.
My thoughts struggled to keep up, yet part of me wasn’t entirely surprised. The part that had come here alone. The part that had ignored how strange this place already was. That part had been waiting for something like this. Something impossible.
Fear crept in, but it didn’t take over. It tangled with something else.
Curiosity.
One of them drifted closer. I didn’t move at first, watching as it hovered in front of me, its wings fluctuating in small movements. The light inside it pulsed faintly, like a beating heart.
It reached toward me. A thin arm extended, fingers stretching toward a loose strand of my hair.
I flinched, unable to look past this strange creature touching me.
It pulled back instantly. Then they scattered. Not gone, just moving fast, darting between the trees. Their light streaked through the dark.
Laughter followed. Soft at first, then clearer. A chiming sound that echoed through the forest.
It sounded beautiful, innocent in a way that made me feel less at ease.
I turned slowly, trying to track them as they regrouped just beyond me, their lights clustered together again.
For the first time, a thought formed clearly in my mind.
Where am I?
It was a necessary question, one I had not asked, but the mask had finally fallen from my eyes.
What did I find?
One dipped lower, then rose again. Another followed, drifting a few feet in front of me before moving away. Rinse and repeat.
Are they messing with me?
It felt like a game, a childish game where whoever got closest won some sort of prize.
“Come with us—come, come—this way, this way—out of the trees.”
It surprised me when they spoke.
The sound came from all of them at once, voices layered together, high in pitch, overlapping without becoming unclear.
It should have been hard to understand, but it wasn’t. The meaning came through clean, even as they spoke over one another.
Still, I didn’t make unnecessary moves. My eyes flicked between them, tracking the way they circled and dipped around me.
“No,” I said, more firmly than I wanted.
They drifted closer. “Not alone—not alone—we will guide, we will show—”
Something in the way they spoke made me pause. The words weren’t wrong. They just weren’t right either. Something was definitely amiss.
I stepped back instead, moving toward the elm. The trunk was solid behind me when I reached it, something that made me feel more safe.
“I’m fine,” I insisted. “I don’t need help.”
They didn’t leave. They floated in place, turning slightly, their attention fixed entirely on me. “Out of the forest—out, out—safer beyond, safer with us—”
Safer? I didn’t like that.
“Why?” I asked. The question slipped out before I could stop it.
“Because—because—dark things wander, wander—better not alone—”
Not an answer. I tightened my grip against the bark behind me. Something was off. Not just them, but how they spoke. Everything felt… too deliberate. Like they were circling around something instead of saying it.
I straightened a little, standing my ground. “Are you going to hurt me?” Even though they were small, that didn’t mean they weren’t dangerous.
They paused. Just for a second. Then— “No touch—no touch—we will not touch—”
That wasn’t what I asked. Why are they skirting around the topic?
“That’s not the same thing,” I asserted.
They flew around, their lights flickering quickly.
I pushed further. “Is it dangerous?”
“Danger—danger everywhere—everywhere it lives—”
True. But completely useless.
I watched them carefully now, paying attention to the way they answered. The way they didn’t answer.
“You’re avoiding it,” I reiterated.
heir movements picked up slightly, circling tighter, faster. Their lights pulsed at a quicker pace.
I narrowed my eyes. “Are you lying to me?”
They stilled, a brief pause before they continued on. “We do not lie—do not lie—”
That was the first clear answer they had said. And it told me everything I needed to know. They weren’t lying. They were avoiding the answer entirely.
But omission is still deception, even if it technically isn’t a lie.
I let out a slow breath, thinking it through. If they couldn’t lie, then every answer they gave had to be true. Just not complete. Which meant I had to be careful with what they say.
“Come, come—walk with us—walk to the folk—to the folk—no harm, no harm by our hands—”
I caught that immediately. By our hands. So someone else’s hands were still an option.
I glanced past them, into the deeper forest. “The folk,” I repeated. A place. Something beyond this forest. It might be safer. Or worse. I didn’t know. But staying here didn’t feel like a better option.
I pushed off the tree slightly, though I didn’t step forward yet. “How long?” I asked.
“Not far—not far—until the edge, the edge of the trees—”
“For what price?” I wasn’t taking chances, I didn’t know how these flying creatures worked.
“Only your company—your company—walk with us, walk—”
I didn’t like that. I knew where the pond was, I could see it a few metres away. I could find my way back if I needed to. If they took me too far, I would stop, turn around, and leave.
“That’s it?” I asked. “Just to the edge of the trees?”
“Yes, yes—edge of the trees—only that, only that—”
I nodded slowly. “Fine,” I said. “I’ll follow you to the edge. And nothing else.”
The moment the words left my mouth, they reacted. Their bodies brightened, their movements quickening as they spun through the air in circles.
“Come—come—this way, this way—”
They darted forward, weaving between the trees.
I hesitated for only a second. Then I followed.
I had walked through this forest before. Not all of it, but enough to understand its shape. It wasn’t endless. The first time I came here, I picked a direction and kept going until the trees thinned into a clearing. There had been a narrow river cutting through it, nothing particularly interesting.
It had felt normal then, though I hadn’t been paying close attention. I must have missed something. Clearly, I had.
I kept my eyes on the lights ahead of me as I followed, careful with every step. They moved easily through the trees, weaving between branches without slowing.
I had to watch where I placed my feet, stepping over roots, pushing past low branches.
I didn’t let them get too far. Curiosity was still there, but it stayed behind my suspicion.
I didn’t trust them. Not their nature, not the way they spoke. Still, they answered. So I kept asking.
“What are you?” I asked.
They responded at once, their voices overlapping but clear. “Will-o’-the-Wisps—wisps, wisps—”
Of course.
It fit too easily.
I was looking at something that shouldn’t exist, so of course it had a name I already knew.
I gave a small nod, more to myself than to them. “Right.”
I didn’t push further.
“What about this place?” I asked after a moment. “Where am I?”
“In Faerieland—Faerie, Faerie—”
I stopped. The word caught somewhere in my head, and I didn’t take another step. “What?”
They drifted ahead before noticing I wasn’t following. A few circled back, hovering in front of me. “In Faerieland—” They repeated.
I stared at them. Faerieland. The word felt wrong. This was too unreal.
“That doesn’t mean anything,” I remarked. “Where am I actually?”
“In Faerieland—going to the folk—the folk, the folk—”
I let out a short breath and ran a hand through my hair. “Okay. No.” I shook my head slightly. “No, that’s not an answer.”
They didn’t react. I studied them more carefully, thinking back to what they had said before.
“You said you don’t lie,” I said. “Is that true?”
“Why would we lie—why lie—”
“That’s not what I asked.” My voice came out harsher this time. “Are you physically incapable of lying?”
They hesitated in the air, as if catching the shift in my tone. “We would not lie to you—we have been honest—”
Not an answer. I exhaled sharply, looking away from them. “Of course you have,” I muttered.
I turned around. I wasn’t doing this. Faerieland. I rejected the word immediately. There was another explanation. There had to be. I wasn’t going to follow a group of glowing things deeper into a forest based on half-answers and strange rules.
I took a step back the way I had come. And stopped. “What…?”
What is this? I can’t move.
Nothing blocked my path. It wasn’t a physical barrier. The trees were the same. The ground hadn’t changed. But something was wrong.
My legs didn’t want to cooperate. Not frozen, not stuck, just… resistant. I tried again, shifting my weight. But it was the same thing.
Irritation rose in me.
I turned back toward the direction the wisps had gone and took a step. The feeling disappeared.
I stood there for a second, testing it. I shifted slightly toward the forest behind me again, and the resistance returned.
Then I faced forward. Gone.
I let out a breath through my nose. “Of course,” I groaned under my breath.
The agreement. I had said I would follow them to the edge of the trees. And now I had to. I literally had no choice now.
I glanced at the wisps, who had gathered again a few feet ahead, watching me. “You didn’t mention that part,” I forced a smile towards them, but I was nowhere near happy.
They didn’t respond. Or maybe they did; their voices were softer now, too quiet to catch. I stepped forward towards them. If I had to go, then I would go. That didn’t mean I had to like it.
We moved through the forest in silence for a while after that. They drifted ahead, slower now, like they knew I would follow regardless. But they didn’t speak, it seemed I had stunned them into silence.
I kept my distance, my eyes moving constantly, taking everything in. The trees began to thin. The ground sloped upward gradually Through the gaps in the branches, something darker rose in the distance.
A hill. Not small. Large enough to dominate the space around it, its shape cutting into the sky.
As we got closer, I noticed something else. An opening. Set into the side of it, partially hidden by thick vines that clung to the surface.
The shape was too clean to be natural. A doorway. Or something close to one.
That shouldn’t be there. I shouldn’t go near it.
I glanced at the wisps, about to ask—
They were gone. All of them. No light. No movement. Nothing.
The space around me suddenly felt too quiet. I stared at where they had been, my pulse picking up slightly.
“Great,” I muttered.
I looked back at the opening. Then away. No. Whatever that was, I wasn’t going in there. Not at night. Not like this. I turned and started back the way I had come.
I’m going home.