Soft lanterns held up on string led a path to the Dove’s bridge that overlooked the Selene river as dusk began to fall over the kingdom of Lir. The streets bustled with busy but weary citizens who looked for comfort in the many taverns and pleasure houses that lined the waterfront and the loud laughter and raucous drunkards filled the night air with amusement and lust. Lir was a sprawling city of stone and glass that glittered in the day and at night, was a shining beacon of prosperity for all to see. The lands surrounding the kingdom were lush farmlands, vineyards and trees bursting with fruit, cattle fat and plentiful and crystal clear rivers teaming with fish. Truly, there was no place on earth more magnificent and abundant than Lir. 

“Ewen’s coming!” A small orphan girl squeaked and soon a gaggle of children rushed to the riverfront to the small collections of dried logs and stones for a chance to get a good front row seat. Lir had a glut of orphans, victims from King Cronhe’s ambition for conquering smaller kingdoms and having them serve him without resistance. They were the unsightly on an otherwise affluent populace, the people of the land had a problem; they had no means to care for them or rather had no care for them. No one but Ewen, for he was once one of them, alone and frail, vulnerable to the pleasure house madams and pimps who preyed on the unfortunate. 

The sound of wooden wheels on the cobblestone made the children scream with delight at the rickety wagon with servants holding the large cauldron, dishes and crates of bread. Sitting at the front of the wagon was a beautiful and slender young man with dark chocolate hair and blue eyes waved at the growing crowd before him. He lifted up a large raggedy burgundy book which made the children scream louder and him smile wider. His driver was an old man with patches of white hair on his balding head, beady eyes behind large glasses connected on a chain. Both men wore matching simple dark green tunics and matching cape with some faded gold thread embroidery. Ewen noticed that there were less children here than before and shuddered to think about what happened in the time he was away. In truth, there was little he could do for them save this, he was a scribe of no real influence, no more important than a cup bearer or a serving wench. The only main difference between him and other servants was he was able to read. Literacy in Lir was minimal and that was by design.

“Hmm, it appears we brought more food than necessary.” The old man said with a solemn look upon his face, “We’ll have to do another headcount before we depart.”

“Yes, Praetor Ludwig.” Ewen whispers, masking his sadness with the bit of joy that at least those children here will have more than they need…only at the expense of those that are missing. “Sir, I-”

“We shall do what we can, Ewen.” Ludwig’s tone was quick but soft, he understood the boy’s heart all too well but at his advanced age, he already knew the fate of the lost children and it would neither of them any good to dwell on it, “Smile for them Ewen, for you are what they dream of becoming and with any luck, you’ll be promoted to my station and perhaps you can do more for them than I ever could.” Ewen swallowed his guilt and indeed smiled at the little dirty faces of the orphans as he hitched the wagon and helped Praetor Ludwig with the large cauldron of leftover stew and day old bread, the chef was kind enough to give the Praetor a few sweet buns and tarts for much needed after dinner treats.

A small firepit was built just beside the river's edge and the cauldron was placed upon the roaring flame as the crowd of children were split between those that were hungry and those that eagerly waited for Ewen to start reading from his story book. This became quite the event as even those that frequented the taverns and houses would spend a few moments to hear the young scribe was preparing which story to read this week. Ewen wished he could do this more than once a week but he too had to earn his keep in the castle, he wasn’t just Praetor Ludwig’s scribe, he helped with tending the royal library and whatever the scholars needed. Ewen struggled with his blessing, why was he taken in over the other orphans? Why couldn't he do more than this? That guilt ate at him constantly. But he rememberd Praetor Ludwig's words, that should he rise and take over Ludwig's position that he could possibly do more for the impoverish of Lir. It was that hope he clung to, that fueled his passion.

And it would have to be enough for now.

Once the stew was properly heated and served, the children huddled together in a pile by the fire and snuggled like little rabbits before Ewen as he began his newest fairy tale, a story about a lovesick farmer who dreamed of finding a lost treasure to marry the princess. What made Ewen’s story so wonderful was how he got in character, from the princess to the hideous troll, Ewen played each part with an infectious joy that enthralled all that witnessed him perform. Soon Ewen had a sizable crowd of onlookers who begged for encores but he was very close to losing his voice. 

Ewen, Praetor Ludwig and the servants all handed the little children their small treats, the happiness in their eyes after having a full meal, a delightful story and now a sweet was something Ewen truly treasured.

These moments with the orphans…how many would he lose next week? He wondered. 

Just beyond the sight of the humans was a small red fox and his companion, a sparrow, they often would visit Lir with curiosity but ever since Ewen started storytelling, the two made sure to find a nice safe spot just to listen and feel the joy, knowing the dreams of the children tonight will create new life. 

“Wow! What a story!” The sparrow chirped and fluttered his tiny brown wings, “I feel so happy, don't you feel the same!?”

“I would've liked more adventure personally," The fox said with a hint of disappointment, "..you know he’d be amused by the story—if he could fucking laugh that is.” and nipped at a his right shoulder, an old injury flaring up.

“Do you think...one day he-”

“Stop.” The fox stopped the sparrow from saying anything else, “We have our tasks. Each newborn pixies found extends the life of the Veil.”

“You’re right,” And the sparrow fluttered in the air, flying around the fox with happiness, “c’mon, let’s go find more siblings!” The sparrow took off into the sky, he was fast when he was excited but only the fox knew the truth.

No matter how many newborn Fae they find… 

The Veil was doomed.