When I exited the clearing, I was met with the strangest, most exquisite sight I had ever seen. At first, I thought the light beyond the river was coming from a hut, but then I realised the light was, in fact, a figure. A girl kneeling on the forest floor beyond the river. At least, that was where I thought she was. But no, she was sitting on top of the water, her red and white robe spread out and floating delicately on the water’s surface.

The expression she wore mirrored the surprise of my own.

For a moment, neither of us moved. Was she a ghost? Despite the white glow, I was certain she was, in fact, corporeal. I blinked, and suddenly, she was gone from the river, peering around a nearby tree like a kid playing hide-and-seek. The river was still rippling, the only indication that she had, in fact, been sitting on its surface only moments before.

Watching her long white hair flowing in the windless night brought me back to my original conclusion: She must be a ghost. She watched me carefully, and I decided to sit along the river bank and watch her back. I didn’t want the moment to end, for whatever dream I was having to disappear into the night. That, and I still wasn’t sure what exactly I was looking at.

She stepped, not glided, I noted, out from behind the tree and walked towards the river. When she reached it, she carried on walking. Each delicate step like a skipped stone on the river’s surface.

As she drew closer, I realised her white hair wasn't at all indicative of her age, and she appeared to be as curious of me as I was of her. It was plain to see in her big, bright blue eyes.

Soon, she was standing only a couple of feet in front of me. I stood up just as she sat down, and when I sat, she stood.

I stood up again.

“Are you a ghost?”

“A what, sorry?” she asked in a voice as clear as day. So much threw me off in that moment.

“A-Are you a ghost? You know… Dead. A spirit?”

“...No?”

She offered no further explanation, and I was too confused to say anything else.

“What’s your name?” I finally asked, cringing before the words even fully left my lips.

“Tsukiko,” she answered simply. “You’re somewhat…shorter than I expected. I wasn’t sure it was you,” she said after another awkward silence.

“What?” was apparently all I could manage to say.

She took a step forward, engulfing me in a powerful, radiant warmth. I noticed her feet were bare. She cocked her head as she peered at me. She grabbed my hand, turning my wrist upwards. The leaf tattoo glowed with a pulsating light. She must be connected to the crystal in the Luna cave I had found earlier. Had I set her free?

“It's you alright,” her soft voice broke me out of my reverie, and I became aware of how close she was. Instinctively, I took a step back, and she smiled and rose into the air.

“I’ll see you soon,” she said before floating higher and higher and finally disappearing in a flurry of pure white feathers that rained down around me. I didn’t remember seeing any wings.

I reached out to grab one of the feathers, a smile spreading across my face.

She’s perfect. And she will bring me all the fame I’ve ever dreamed of.

Rika’s gasps were the only sound that could be heard besides her blood slowly dripping onto the filthy wooden floor. Realising that her hands and feet were bound to the chair, she looked up, blinded by the fluorescent light above her. Her focus cleared, and she found herself staring into the eyes of a burly man seated in a backward-facing chair, sneering at her. “Nice of you to join us finally.” Rika spat out a mouthful of blood, never once taking her eyes off the man in front of her. He leaned back to pull his phone from his pocket and casually dialed a number. He smiled at Rika as he held the phone to his ear. Rika could hear the dialing tone, and the call was answered after three rings. “Hello?” “Aren’t you missing someone, Princess?” A brief pause. “Is Rika there?” the burly man raised an eyebrow, thrown off by the lack of concern in the girl’s voice. “She’s here all right. We’ve-” “Can you put her on the phone?” the man licked his lips, unaware that he was frowning as he stood up and walked over to Rika, who seemed to flinch when he held the phone against her bloody cheek.
“Tell her to bring what we want to-” The girl on the phone’s exasperated voice cut him off. “Rika?” Rika cleared her throat before answering. “Yeah?” “Stop messing around and get back here, will you? The new equipment arrived today, and we need your help putting it together. We’ve got no clue.” Rika looked up at the man who was now staring at her with a hint of fear in his dark, beady eyes. “Looks like I better get going," she smirked. Immediately, the thug dropped the phone and backed away. Rika burst into flames, burning through the rope and reducing the chair to a pile of ashes. Brushing herself off, she surveyed the man who had fallen to the ground, cowering in fear. “Better luck next time, I guess?” she shrugged, and with a lopsided grin, she shot up into the air, blasting her way through the ceiling.

Mimi embraced Rika in a tight hug as soon as she entered. “I am so pleased to see that you are unharmed. We missed you very much.” Rika looked past Mimi at Tristy, who was sitting cross-legged on their living room floor, holding an instruction book and wearing a sour expression. “I don’t know why you enjoy getting yourself caught, and today of all days, look at the state of you.” Rika shrugged as she grabbed a first aid kit from the cupboard. “I thought I’d give them a chance, you know, humor them for a while.” "What did they want this time anyway?" "The Light Crystal, nothing new." Rika slumped onto the sofa, and Mimi gently pried the first-aid kit from her bloody hands. "Thanks, Mimi." What she wouldn't tell them, is that this time, she had been caught off-guard.

I put down my fork with a clang that broke the silence. Looking across at my husband, it was like someone had washed away all his coloring. Like he’d been through the wrong laundry cycle and was only a shadow of who he had been before. I didn’t pick up my fork again. I had been dreading this day. Of course, I knew it was coming, and you always think that you are somehow prepared just by knowing. That by the time that dreaded thing rolls around, you’ll be able to say, “Ah, well, I knew it was coming.” And then, somehow, it won't hurt as much. It’s not a shock. It’s fine.

But it’s not fine. As my husband puts down his fork and his eyes briefly flit over mine, I know it’s happened to him too.

The only sound now comes from our two children blissfully tucking into their vegetables. Just like we taught them. They haven’t noticed the shift in the atmosphere. How could they? How could they know that the very notion of Mummy and Daddy putting down their utensils and staring off into space marked the end of their love?

I didn’t expect it to feel like this. For it to feel as if someone had turned on a tap inside my chest and drained out all the happiness, security, and optimism it held. I don’t feel completely empty. The love for my kids is still there. The last drop in the tank.

I rise from the table and realise my hands are shaking. He follows me to the kitchen. For a moment, we don’t say anything at all. All we can do is process this new feeling.

“What happened?” he asks. A lump catches in my throat. Of course, this must feel even stranger for him. One moment all he felt was love for me. The next, it was gone. He doesn’t know about the fairies. He didn’t know that we were under a temporary spell. “What do you mean?” My voice is barely above a whisper. “Something changed just now.” Finally, he looks at me. I’m afraid to look too deeply into his eyes, but he doesn’t look away. Instead, he searches for whatever it was he thought he saw in me. Of course, he won’t find it now. I put it there. And now it’s gone. “What happens now?” “What do you mean?” I seem to be unable to say anything else. “I knew I was under some kind of spell…” A few moments pass before I remember to breathe. “You knew?” “One moment, I felt one way about you, the next, I was head over heels. Did you think I wouldn’t realise something was up?” “I’m sorry… I thought for sure you…” What excuse can I possibly come up with to make this right? “So let’s do this for real this time.” He takes my hands and squeezes them. “No rose-tinted glasses. We’re better than that. Just the two of us.”

The first rumble of thunder sent a shiver down her spine. The second sent her heart racing. The flash of lightning that struck a few moments later had Mila out of her bed, unable to breathe. This was how it had happened. Except there were no screams of agony this time. Just her heavy breathing. Not knowing what else to do, Mila padded down the hall to the closed door of Aiden's room. Without knocking, she stumbled in and fell to her knees. "Mila?" Aiden got up from his desk and swooped down to her side. A particularly loud clap of thunder propelled her into his arms. After only a moment's hesitation, he wrapped them around her. A few whimpers were the only sound that escaped her trembling lips. Mila slowly lifted her head to look up at Aiden, her teeth chattering. Her wide eyes and shrunken pupils alarmed Aiden. The fear in her eyes scared Aiden as she clung to him tighter.

Yells of pain and terror echoed all around the palace, there was nowhere to run, or to hide. Round every corner there was danger. A flash of light lit the sinister corridors and another horrific scream rattled through her body. She fell to her knees as there were more flashes, more screams, and the new sound of malicious laughter ringing through her ears. She tried to crawl into a corner, but it was too late, they had found her. A gleaming white smile was all she could see in the cold darkness followed by another flash as searing pain gripped her entire body. She slumped face down on the ground, a smoking, bloody mess.

Mila choked out a cry and lay still. She could feel someone's rapid heartbeat against her cheek. A reassuring hand stroked her hair, and a deep gentle voice called out to her from the darkness. Mila gave in to the warm body that had curled itself around her. Somehow she knew she was safe. Aiden hugged Mila firmly as she began to settle down. He didn't know what was she going through, but he didn't want her to go through it alone. He listened to Mila's breathing which was now steady and quiet. Aiden sat with her, feeling her warm timid body quivering against his. Her smooth, dark hair tickled his chin. Mila shifted slightly, and Aiden could feel her chest rising and falling against him. Aiden realised he had been holding his breath and unwrapped his arms from around Mila. She seemed to have fallen asleep, and the storm had passed. Aiden carried Mila over to his bed. While pulling up the covers around her, he wondered if he had done the right thing. Should he have called someone? He wasn't used to being close and gentle with anyone, but he had been there for Mila. With one last glance at her, Aiden left the room, feeling a wet patch of tears slide down his chest.

She was there at the start, always had been. She’s the one who has kept me strong all this time. There’s fire in her hair, her eyes. She has a knowing smile that curls her lips as she stares back at me. She knows, she’s always known. She’s the one. She’s me, everything I was meant to be and am now. I look to her for strength. Her hands rise up to touch the glass, my hands, they burn. I turn away and take a moment to think.

Why am I still wearing a skirt? It’s been years, can’t I change it? It’s hardly practical, the others are fine with it but I’m honestly so fed up. I tried to fashion it into shorts once. But the next time, they were back to normal. I don’t mind the rest of it. The crop top. The arm bands. The chunky boots. Maybe I wished for it somehow? I don’t think so though, cus the others are in the same thing. Some of the details are different of course, but the style is the same. It’s been years and I feel like I’ve outgrown this style. But it’s not like I can ask someone to change it, I can’t even change it myself. It’s just always gunna be this way I guess. I look over my shoulder at my reflection again . It’s time to go.

They’re waiting for me outside, not saying anything silent and solemn. It’s dark even though it’s only 2pm.

No one says, “‘bout time” or anything like that. We’re in no rush. Mimi takes to the sky first, I watch her and briefly remember when she used to be so self conscious of people seeing up her skirt. I wonder when she stopped caring.

Without her signature jump, Tristy lifts off next, her take off lacking it’s usual resolve. As I join them in the air we fly silently towards the direction of the dimensional rift, our hearts heavy with dread.

She was one of us and we weren’t able to protect her. We let them take her, change her. Now we have to fight her. We were never strong enough for this. I see Mimi’s hand move to wipe away her tears. We must look like sad reapers floating through the night sky.

As we reach the rift we can already see her, cocooned at the base of it.