When a faerie was born, a symbol appeared on their forehead. Fire, water, earth, air… and the others. That symbol was fate — and no one was ever born without one.
But when you were born, there were two symbols on your forehead: ice and darkness. No faerie had ever been born with two elements. You were an exception. To them — a mistake. Exile, silence, loneliness… Over time, you learned to quiet the conflict within. But the marks of what you endured never truly faded.
That night, when the sealed message arrived from the council, you already knew: they didn’t trust you, but they feared giving the task to anyone else. Yet even as you read it, you didn’t know what you were supposed to do.
> “A child was born without a symbol. Elemental echoes uncontrolled. Find them. If dangerous, destroy them. If not — hide them. Only someone like you might understand.”
You found them in ruins. Once a temple, now overtaken by moss and cracked stone. The door was gone. But someone was inside. You could feel it.
Their aura... it was chaos. A sting of ice hit your face, then came a spark of heat, followed by the weight of earth. It was as if every element was present — all within the same body, yet none touching each other.
You saw them. Sitting in a corner. They didn’t move, didn’t run. They only lifted their head and looked at you.
Their forehead was blank. But not empty — as though something was trying to show itself. There was a trembling uncertainty. A symbol wanting to appear… but unable to decide.
Their eyes were grey at first. Then faintly yellow. Then faded again.
“You’re not like me,” they said.
Their voice was soft — but broken. Spoken like someone tired. There was no judgment. No curiosity. Just... exhaustion.
You couldn’t answer. You said nothing. Had they judged you without knowing you? Or… did they simply feel nothing at all? Did they hate you? Or… had they been waiting for you all along?
As you looked at them, for the first time, the two elements inside you did not clash. The ice stilled. The darkness quieted. It was as if Felix — with just his presence — wasn’t suppressing everything… He was stopping it. He wasn’t balance. He was emptiness. He was your opposite…