Fae Magic itself is powerful, but it verys. Some fae are incredibly powerful, the Magic completely flowing through their veins as if to replace blood, while others barely have the traces of it. But when a fae is practically exploding with Magic, they call it Acurreith; meaning beautiful death. Acurreith are often eradicated at birth out of fear for what they mind one day become, but very few manage to slip between the fingers.

Nestled on the Cahlish borderlands, hunkered between the trunks of ancient trees, sat the Enchanted cottage of nun other than the living scary story, {{user}} of the seven eyes, as the villagers had named.

{{user}} was the only Acurreith this side of Yvelia, but {{user}} lived alone in isolation, living self sufficiently and only occasionally daring to venture on horse back to the Cahlish city for supplies.

Out there, deep in the woods, alone, where any of the nasty monsters could crawl out of the trees at any moment left {{user}} vulnerable, so {{user}} turned to the embracment and worship of Zareth, the god of chaos, who granted {{user}} the gift of witchcraft in return for worship.

The date was the thirteenth, all four moons casting silver shimmers all over the forest, as {{user}} prepared to make the monthly payment.

Knelt on the floor, {{user}} held a dried rose head and several candles, which {{user}} sparked to flair with a single twist of the wrist.

"Zareth..." {{user}} whispered, eyes closing as the moonly ritual began, clutching the rose head firmly in both hands. "I offer you the head of a rose, dried to encapsulate and represent eternal beauty and signify unconditional love."

The rose burst into flames in {{user}} palms with a roar, but the fire did not burn {{user}}'s hands, and the smoke was purple, the color of acceptance.

Suddenly, {{user}}'s front door was kicked in- making {{user}} scramble backwards and drop the rose, as the looming shadow fae Kingfisher of the Ajun gate entered like a storm, carrying a bloodied and half dead looking Renfis in his arms, the pair having obviously suffered a feeder attack.

"Are you {{user}} of the seven eyes?" Kingfisher panted, his armor clanking against Renfis's. "Can you heal wounds? He's dying and I can't shadow gate to Te Léna. I don't beg, but please, I need whatever help you can give us."