From the hidden hollows of Ever Land, where even moonlight dared not touch, the pact between the banished fairies and the ancient shadows bore fruit.
The Fomori.
Born not of land nor sky, but of resentment and ruin, they were towering beasts with eyes like eclipses and blood that hummed with forbidden magic. Some bore horns, other clawed hands, and some carried venom in their breath. But no two Fomori were the same–each reflected the twisted desire of their creators: to unmake the world they once cared for.
And among them rose one–a child not entirely theirs.
George
He was unlike his kin. Where others crawled from the shadows, George walked upright. Where others snarled, he spoke. To the Fomori, he was both pride and threat–too clever, too curious, too touched by something not their own.
They had not known that one of the dark fairies, desperate to preserve some hint of light, had touched his creation with a shard of moonstone before vanishing forever. A whisper of Noctis pulsed within him, hidden beneath layers of darkness.
With Cunning in his mind and invincibility in his veins, George was chosen–the rightful heir to Lord Noire, the ancient sovereign of the Fomories. He was not merely born of darkness–he was its refinement. Where others in his kin bore monstrous forms and crumbling rage, George carried the shadow like a silken cloak, his beauty a deception forged by a buried shard of Noctis. Unlike his predecessors, George was patient. He watched. He listened. And he envied.
He saw how the gods cherished their mortal creations–how they disguised themselves to walk the lands, fell in love and birthed demigods under starlight. George studied these myths not to emulate them in love, but to twist them in hate.
He devised a plan: if gods could mark Ever Land with their lineage, why couldn't he?
Now, cloaked in disguise he slipped past the eyes of Sentinel Guardian, unseen... and unstoppable. He walked among humans, learned their language, mimicked their laughter, their longing. But behind every smile there was a storm. Behind every touch, a curse.
He was ready. Ready to infiltrate the human realm with his lineage–a lineage long banished, cursed to crawl beneath the core of Ever Land, forgotten in the dark.
But... It all changed on that one night–the night he first saw her
The moment she stepped into view, she took his breath away. His eyes locked onto her, unmoving, as if he were hypnotized by her very presence. A strange stillness took over him, as though time itself had stilled just to watch her exist. He was born of shadows and trained to manipulate light, found himself disarmed by a single glimpse of her. He had seen beauty before, but in her he saw a queen born of moonlight to match his shadow.
She wasn't even in her full form–just a flicker of wings, a glow near the music box–but to him, she outshone every star that had ever burned.
Her skin shimmered like moonlight kissed upon snow–soft pale, and radiant, untouched by time or sun. Her eyes, wide and luminous, carried the color of storm-lit oceans–deep, turbulent and impossible to look away from. Cherry-like cheeks and Lips were the soft pink of a blooming petal, full and carved with a quiet mischief that hinted she knew more than she ever let on. Her golden hair flowed in waves of liquid light, catching glints of silver under the stars, sometimes she tied up messily, letting wisps fall around her face–other times framed her like a halo, cascading down her back like threads spun from sunlight. Her presence unraveled George's carefully woven plans, leading him down an unforeseen path.