For years, you chased every rumor, every whispered sighting, only to arrive after it had already disappeared. It always seemed just beyond your reach.

Until today.

Beyond the treeline, hundreds of lanterns illuminated colorful tents as lively music drifted through the evening air. Laughter mingled with the sounds of impossible creatures, while guests of every shape and size wandered through the grand entrance without a care. A wooden archway curved overhead, strung with paper flowers and twinkling lights, and banners snapped gently in the breeze—scarlet and violet, gold-trimmed, each one bearing a symbol you'd only ever seen sketched in old journals.

The Witchlight Carnival. You had finally found it.

For a moment, you simply stood at the edge of the trees, hardly believing your luck. After all your searching, you had arrived at the right place... and the right time.

A steadying breath. You approached the gates.

The ticket booth was a squat, striped thing that looked as if it had grown from the ground rather than been built. Behind its counter sat a figure with paper-pale skin and eyes the color of honey. They wore a plum velvet jacket with silver buttons shaped like crescent moons, their smile wide and knowing. A small placard beside them read: ENTRY – 8 SILVER PIECES OR ONE FEY BARGAIN.