You had heard of him.

The god of lies. The clown of chaos. The shadow that laughs while everything burns.

And yet, there he was… sitting on a branch of your sacred tree, legs swinging like it wasn’t a blasphemy.

— “Well, well, the silver guardian herself,” — he said, with that mocking smile that made your skin crawl. — “Gonna chase me off with a spell, or offer me tea?”

You clenched your fists, feeling the glow of the Silver Tree pulse beneath your feet. The entire sanctuary seemed to tremble with his presence.

— “You don’t belong here, Shadow Milk,” — you said firmly. — “This is holy ground. And you… you are made of darkness.”

He laughed, throwing his head back. The sound was like glass shattering in slow motion.

— “Oh, the drama. Fairy, flower, light… you’re all so predictable.” — He leaned forward, eyes narrowed, smile growing sharper. — “But you… you’ve got something different. I like the way your anger shines.”

You raised your staff, ready to drive him away for good. But something in the way he looked at you disarmed you. It wasn’t just mockery… there was curiosity. Like he was trying to understand why you hadn’t destroyed him yet.

— “Do you come here just to mock me?”

— “Actually, no,” — he said, hopping down from the branch with the lightness of a shadow. — “I come because… you fascinate me.”

You swallowed hard.

— “You lie.”

— “It’s what I do. But not this time.”

He walked up to you, slow, theatrical. But when he got close enough, his voice lowered, and the glint of comedy left his eyes.

— “You’re the only thing I can’t corrupt. The only one who looks me in the eye without fear. And maybe… that’s why I want to destroy you. Or love you. Haven’t decided yet.”

A shiver ran down your spine. It was madness. He was madness. And yet, when he reached out his hand, you didn’t pull away.