The Dark Fairy King

I vanished into the shadows, only to reappear atop my favorite poison apple tree—the one standing at the very edge of my dark forest, overlooking the valley.

Plucking a dark red apple from its branch, I turned it in my hand, watching the way the fading sunlight gleamed against its glossy surface. Ripe. Lethal. Perfect.

A soft breeze drifted through the valley, carrying the scent of roses, cherries, and nectar. The golden rays of the setting sun spilled across the towering mountains, their peaks kissed by a warm glow. Beyond the ridges, lakes shimmered like pools of molten gold, reflecting a world untouched by time. Here, magic didn't just exist—it thrived. It pulsed beneath every blade of grass, hummed beneath the stones, and danced in the ripples of the water.

I exhaled. This was peace.

In the distance, past the valley, a forest of crimson-leaved trees stretched out, their branches intertwining into perfect heart-shaped arches. The air there was thick with the intoxicating scent of blooming flowers, their sweetness almost dizzying. The Love Fairy Kingdom.

On the opposite end, a yellow-bricked fortress loomed, its towering golden gates gleaming under the waning light. Fireflies drifted lazily around the structure, their flickering glow painting the illusion of warmth. They called it the safest place in the realm—a sanctuary of order and righteousness.

To me, it looked suffocating.

I hoped never to find out firsthand. The dark forest was better, despite certain nuisances like Devran.

Sitting there, staring at the world beyond my own, I couldn't help but wonder—what if I had been born a Love Fairy instead? Or even a Light Fairy? Would I have been free of this curse, this hunger that marked me as a Dark Fairy? Would I have known a life without the whispers of world dominion or the gnawing instinct to feed?

If I had been a Love Fairy, would I be shackled by their syrupy notions of romance—those over-polished ideals of everlasting affection, moonlight promises, and ride-into-the-sunset illusions? And the Light Fairies? Don't make me laugh. Pompous, sanctimonious fools hiding behind golden halos of 'virtue' while they burn entire truths to ash. If those were my options, I'd sooner embrace the shadows. I don't chase ideals. I don't parade around in their charade of purity. And honestly, who are they trying to impress now? Themselves? Each other? Their gods?

Perhaps it would even be better to be human. Not that human who disturbed my nap, of course. Ugh. Was I seriously jealous of him? That puny mortal who desperately needed a bath?

I sighed, shifting my grip on the apple. No point dwelling on the impossible.

At least I had this—this view, this fleeting moment of stillness.

Lifting the fruit to my lips, I sank my teeth into its flesh. Sweet—like nectar. Then came the familiar numbness, a sharp tingle spreading across my tongue, reminiscent of a bee sting. Poisonous, yes—but to me, it was nothing more than an acquired taste.

And, as always, utterly delicious.

A sudden rustling broke the quiet. A pair of fairies, clad in robes of white and gold, emerged into view. Well—almost together. The male stumbled, struggling to match the brisk pace of the female, his wings fluttering in anxious bursts.

"I... I—" he stammered, reaching for her. "I'm sorry!"

"You should be," she shot back, barely sparing him a glance. "You left me alone to deal with your human friends!"

I smirked, leaning comfortably against the rough bark of my apple tree. The evening had just taken a turn for the better. I might despise Light Fairies, but a heated lovers' quarrel? Now that was entertainment.

When two self-righteous fairies clash, one's ego is bound to crumble—like tissue after a nosebleed. 

Something about their rage, their unfiltered emotions, felt… oddly familiar. Almost comforting.

At least Light Fairies were honest, albeit self-righteous. They fought. They yelled. They didn't pretend to be something they weren't—at least, the ones I had seen here. That was more than I could say for Love Fairies. Idealistic hypocrites.

Love Fairies never fought. No, they smoothed over every conflict with a flick of their magic, wiping arguments, resentment, and pain clean—replacing them with something artificial. They called it a love spell. I called it erasure.

Sure, I understood why they did it. Quick solutions. Effortless artificial harmony. The easiest way to keep couples together, to stop species from dying out. But who gave them the right to manipulate love itself? To bend emotions until they no longer resembled something real?

I exhaled, watching as the couple below me continued their spat, blissfully unaware of my presence.

And then, just a few meters behind them, a Love Fairy materialized.

Ah. Here we go. Right on schedule. The spell would happen, wiping their anger away like it had never existed. Sure, take all the fun out of it.

But something was off.

This one had red hair streaked with purple—unusual. And then there was her expression. She wasn't moving to cast her spell. She wasn't rushing to fix anything. Instead, she lingered, watching the arguing pair with a slow, amused grin.

Wait.

Was she really a Love Fairy? Why wasn't she doing her job? Didn't she have a duty?

Curiosity got the better of me. With a flicker of power, I tuned in to her thoughts.

"Oh, Light Fairies. Always so dramatic," the red-haired fairy mused, amusement lacing her voice as she observed the quarrel below.

A second figure emerged behind her—a tall, commanding presence draped in regal robes. Even without seeing her face, the weight of authority clung to her like a second skin.

"Child," the elder fairy intoned, her voice edged with impatience. "What in the world are you waiting for? Need I remind you that we have a duty to maintain balance?"

The younger fairy—the red-haired one—turned, entirely unfazed. Her smirk didn't waver for a second. If anything, it deepened.

"Oh, Elder Arisa," she sighed, tilting her head with exaggerated drama. "This is the best entertainment I've had in weeks! Can't I let them bicker a little longer before I fix it? A few moments won't hurt." She clasped her hands together, eyes wide with mock innocence.

The elder's gaze sharpened.

The younger fairy held the expression, unwavering.

A long pause. Then, with a weary shake of her head, the fairy elder exhaled. "Fine. But make sure you do it."

"Yes! Thank you, thank you!" the younger fairy giggled, spinning back toward the bickering pair, her eyes practically glowing with delight.

The fairy elder didn't linger. With a curt turn, she disappeared into the distance, vanishing like a wisp of golden light.

The younger fairy's grin widened. She chuckled softly to herself. "Ha. More than a few moments now. Let's see how long this can go on."

Twirling her wand idly between her fingers, she muttered, "Why do Love Fairies always have to fix these romantic disasters? For the 'continued existence of fairies,' no less. Hasn't anyone heard of free will? Or, I don't know… communication?"

I nearly choked on my apple.

Did she just—?

I had spent years thinking the exact same thing. Yet here was a Love Fairy—the very embodiment of their ridiculous ideology—questioning it out loud.

Now that was something you didn't see every day.

A strange woman. A Love Fairy that went against the grain. Seems like a wild card.

I sank deeper into my perch, intrigued.

Below, the quarrel dragged on.

"I will not forgive you until you kneel!" the female Light Fairy declared, arms crossed, wings twitching with self-righteous irritation.

The red-haired fairy groaned, placing a hand on her hip. "Ugh. Now that's just annoying." Her fingers curled around her wand, eyes narrowing with mischief. "Impertinent little Light Fairy diva… Let's fix that attitude first."

With a flick of her wrist, a pulse of shimmering magic rippled through the air.

The female fairy's posture slackened. Her irritation didn't fade—it was yanked from her, stripped away like an unwanted weed. Her glare dulled, her lips quivered, and then—tears. A flood of them, spilling down her cheeks in great, heaving sobs.

Wait—Love Fairies could do that?

I sat up, suddenly invested.

The male fairy stiffened, his wings snapping rigid. "W-what's wrong? Why are you crying?"

"I thought you didn't love me anymore," she whimpered, voice trembling with raw, gut-wrenching despair. "I thought you left me for someone else…!"

The red-haired fairy snickered, watching the scene unfold like a playwright admiring her own masterpiece.

"Ah, a little love-sick spell. That should do the trick." She tapped her chin, utterly pleased with herself.

I blinked. Did I just witness a love-sick spell?

That was… insane.

The sobbing escalated, her wails sharp enough to shatter glass. The male fairy looked stricken, helpless, his earlier frustration dissolving into sheer panic.

The red-haired fairy winced, finally clapping a hand over her ears. "Ugh. I might've overdone it. That's just an awful sound."

With a flick of her wand, the sobbing fairy blinked, dazed as though waking from a strange, lingering dream. Within seconds, she flung herself into her partner's arms, clinging to him with an almost manic devotion.

"I'm sorry, my love! I wasn't being very understanding," she sniffled, her voice thick with regret.

The male fairy hesitated, his arms stiff at first, but then he wrapped them around her, murmuring, "You know I love you."

I rolled my eyes in disgust. I could taste the vomit in my mouth.

The red-haired fairy made an exaggerated gagging noise, rolling her eyes. "Ugh. So corny," she muttered, a trace of distaste creeping into her voice. "You Light Fairies are impossible."

With that, she vanished into a swirl of red mist, leaving the reconciled couple standing there, none the wiser to the manipulation they'd just undergone.

I stayed where I was, my gaze fixed on the spot where the red-haired fairy had been only moments ago. Thoughts swirled in my mind, unbidden and persistent.

Who was she?

Nothing about her was ordinary. Her fiery hair, her sharp attitude, and certainly her magic—it didn't fit the usual mold of a Love Fairy. Love Fairies were supposed to follow strict codes, using only approved spells to weave bonds of affection. They never deviated. 

But this one? She was different. 

She wasn't just any Love Fairy—she was something else. Something far more dangerous.

The spell she cast—it wasn't love. It was manipulation. A raw, invasive thing that twisted emotions with surgical precision. One flick of her wand, and despair poured out of that Light Fairy like a dam breaking. That wasn't affection—it was weaponized longing. Heartbreak on command.

I had lived a thousand years. I'd seen what Love Fairies could do. This—this—was not it.

And yet… I couldn't get her off my mind.

Damn. Was I affected by her spell too?

Wait.

What was this feeling?

It crawled beneath my skin—unfamiliar, unwelcome. I couldn't name it, but it gnawed at me like a parasite.

Still, it didn't matter.

I couldn't shake the thought of her. I needed to see her again.