_In the ephemeral span of the universe, two girls should not be allowed to make such trouble._

_But then again, no one expected the arcane, monolithic Mist would choose them…_

…-~>^*!~-…

Fairies, thousands of them, scrambled along the purple-tinted ballroom, in haste to decorate before the final show. Their hurried flying became a flurry of starlike pinks and whites.

In true Forsta fashion, the tall curtains that framed the obsidian stage were adorned with gold sand and water-glass flowers, a tribute to the great Forsta desert and a nod to the Gods.

And in the corner of all the chaos, two girls huddled behind backstage storage, obscured by the stage that blended with their sleek, onyx hair and their elegant suits.

Resa’s gaze landed on her younger sister’s impassive face, her face was a shield hardened by the cruel land they inhabited.

“Remember, we’re here for a reason,” Resa’s velvet, guttural voice slithered out.

Amora firmly nodded, clutching the small, rattling, ornate box in her right white-knuckled grip. The tangy, metallic scent of blood permeated along the jewel-like container and stained Amora’s hand.

Around them, the fairies began to pack up their work, having finished hours of labor. The heavy air of fatigue and sweat began to mingle with the subtle, underlying taste of blood.

Their nomadic eyes scoured the room, and with one affirmative look, they dashed out—like shadows. Every step faded into the background of the drifting commotion. Every step turned into a silent crescendo of disconcerting trepidation.

They only had one shot at this.

When the last fairy exited, the girls sprinted to the center of the vast stage—covering the distance in frantic strides.

“Where is it?” Amora hissed, visually sifting through the strange, archaic symbols on the platform for the ruby mark.

“I found it.”

Amora pursed her chapped lips and carefully opened the lid, letting the rattling blood pour onto the gem. It seeped in like poison, and the two girls watched as the ruby’s light began to flutter.

Placing her hand atop the dainty crimson-scarlet jewel, Resa spoke in dark incantations. Her utterings were small whispers that barely penetrated the consuming darkness with her magic.

The ruby’s starlight dimmed slowly, then entirely it became black. A cosmic death.

And with one last breath, Amora smashed the box on the impenetrable obsidian floor.

Without the ruby to protect it, the obsidian crumbled at the center, revealing the thick layers designed to fortify Her prison.

The sisters scrambled away, clasping their elbows with each other as the floor beneath them fell. When they finally made it off the stage, a huge crater revealed itself beneath them.

Where the gigantic obsidian platform once stood, now was consumed by the titanic purple Mist.

The room immediately smelled of ice and dread and death, and as the Mist coalesced, turning into a devastating beautiful, towering figure with beady, otherworldly eyes and swirling, cold tendrils, the Universe seemed to shake.