Under the moonlit sky, Daxia materialized outside a palace. The shadows around her vanished with a soft, iridescent glow.

'Another night, another mission... off to the Faerie Realm again.' She turned to throw a final, lingering glance at the Flare Wing Palace. Its towering silhouette loomed against the night, golden light seeping through the darkened windows.

"You are dismissed."

After recalling Deming's words for a brief moment, her eyes hardened as she took in the majestic palace, and a black, shimmering vortex formed around her.

"You're impossible," she murmured, her lips curling like a predator savoring the scent of prey.

A shadow passed over her eyes, a slow burn of desire smoldering beneath the surface, like embers craving the touch of flames.

"Why are all the hot ones always so... wrong? But maybe that's the poison that draws me in."

A low, sultry chuckle escaped her, as if the very thought of Deming was a forbidden indulgence she longed to savor.

"No matter. It only makes the game more... delicious."

With a decisive breath, she stepped into the vortex. The swirling darkness surrounded her, and in a heartbeat, she was gone.

~*~

Feng Deming strode along the midnight shore, the crashing waves a mere backdrop to the storm within him. The salty sea breeze mixed with the subtle scent of wet sand. Each step pressed deep into the sand, as if the earth itself bowed and cowered beneath his might.

'What does it mean, never to die, yet to have dreams haunting me even in my wake?' His thoughts churned like a storm, filled with anger and disdain. 'I command legions, bend realms to my will; yet, in spite of all that, I am a prisoner in my mind... Why?'

His lips curled into a sneer, and his eyes narrowed as the cold wind tugged at his ebony robes. The moonlight on the waves mirrored his inner turmoil as he stared out into the dark horizon.

'What am I searching for on these shores?'

He clenched his fists, the rough sand pressing into his skin. The waves roared, but he remained unmoved, a dark figure against the night.

'Several millennia have passed since my birth, and still, I am left in the dark about the reason for my immortality... What is the purpose of eternity if it extends the torment of being forever entrapped? To live endlessly is cruel if it means facing imprisonment once more.'

His knuckles tightened at his sides with anger.

'No matter. I shall carve the answer from this wretched world, even if I have to tear the realms apart to do it... Starting with the Faerie Realm.'

Deming's imprisonment etched a relentless wound gnawing at his soul. Visions of phantom chains clinking in the dark haunted him like a shadow always lurking.

'They thought they could contain me, bend me to their will... Fools. Now, they dare to rise against me again?'

The wind howled, echoing his sigh, and his gaze hardened on the horizon. He could taste his frustration, like a bitter aftertaste.

'Let them come. I shall crush them underfoot. I have tasted the bitterness of their chains and refuse to be trapped again. They dared to imprison me and twist my fate into a nightmare. Now, I return the favor by luring them here and trapping them.'

With a final glance at the turbulent sea, he turned away, eyes burning with a cold, deadly fire. The darkness folded around him like a cloak as he continued his path to bend even eternity to his will.

'Once they cross into Astara, the borders behind them close and cut them off from their world, with no escape or tricks to breach the barriers... This time, I refuse to merely break their spirits. This time, I shall be the one to leave them in chains, much like the imprisonment they once imposed on me.'

A cruel smile touched his lips as he envisioned his scheme, his eyes flaring with a predatory light.

'Their precious realm burns as their screams echo across the ages. They are bound to remember the price of crossing me. Each step deepens their despair, and I shall watch their hope drain away as I make their world bleed. The Faerie Realm becomes a place of endless torment, with me as the master of their suffering.'

As dawn's first light crept across the horizon, a low chuckle rumbled from Deming's chest. He stepped into the vortex he had created, the swirling darkness swallowing him as the day began.

~*~

Ningshun wandered through a field of bluebells, their petals swaying in the breeze under the azure sky. Each step he took released a soft crunch, and the ground yielded like a plush carpet.

He reached out, fingers brushing the velvety blooms. As he lay among the bluebells, the faint taste of sweetness lingered on his lips, like a touch of honey that matched the floral scent around him. "This place..."

In an instant, the colors faded, and the bluebells dissolved into a swirling mist. He blinked, the dream giving way to his room. The caress of sunlight on his face filtered through the curtains, and he sighed.

"It was just a dream," he whispered.

~*~

The sun warmed Meilin's face as her eyelids fluttered open with a groan. "Morning already? No... one more hour... probably won't hurt..." Memories of the previous night crept back, and her cheeks flushed.

"And... did it help?" Meilin asked.

"Not really," Ningshun smiled, eyes roaming her face. "But seeing you here... that's definitely helping."

Meilin shot upright, her hand flying to her mouth as she squealed, "Oh, my God! Oh, my GOD! OH, MY GOD!" She took a deep breath, her eyes wide as she fanned her flushed face. "Does he like me? Why didn't I say anything last night? It's not like I've—" Her mind raced to a flashback:

"I like proper girls, and she's not... the kind of girl I'd want to introduce to my parents or even consider marrying."

"Yichen," she whispered, her hands trembling as her heart twisted and tightened like a vice. "Right..." her voice cracked.

She grounded herself in the present, swallowing the lump in her throat.

"I... I haven't felt this feeling in a while... Comfort... safety..."

Her lips curled into a tender smile. "But what if Ningshun is different? What if he does like me?" She took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders.

She hurried through her morning routine, picking an outfit highlighting her features. Her black attire hugged her waist, matching the thick, black wing of her eyeliner and the mascara framing her dark eyes. She took extra care with her hair, ensuring every strand fell in a perfect way.

She stepped back from the mirror. 'Not bad, Meilin. Not bad at all.' With one last glance, she grabbed her phone and headed out the door, her heart a fluttering bird trapped in her chest.