AZALIYAH RISE OF THE FAE

WHERE TO NOW (PT.1)

They saw the village before they reached it, and even from a distance, it felt different.

Everything was tighter. The buildings stood too close together, drawn inward as though the place had learned long ago not to leave empty space for anything dangerous to slip through.

People moved through the streets, but not casually. Every step looked measured. Every glance carried purpose.

And before Azaliyah and Camron had even stepped into view, it was clear everyone was already watching for something else.

Azaliyah slowed just enough to take it in, then kept walking.

People noticed them immediately. Not welcoming. Not openly hostile. Just watching.

The same kind of look she had seen before, as though they were measuring her value before deciding whether she had any.

Camron glanced at her without fully turning his head.

“Well,” he said quietly, “this is your moment.”

Azaliyah did not answer.

She rolled her shoulders once, steadying herself, then walked straight into the center of the square as though she already belonged there.

If she hesitated now, it would show, and she was not giving anyone that.

A few people turned fully toward her. Others barely reacted.

It did not matter.

She stopped where she was, lifted her chin a fraction, and spoke without raising her voice more than necessary.

“I am Azaliyah Starfall, daughter of Dominic and Michelle Starfall of the village of Urella.

I’m not here to waste time, so I’m going to say this once... and you can take it however you want.”

That drew more attention. Not much, but enough.

Heads turned. Conversations died mid-breath.

She kept going, her tone steady and direct.

“Whatever’s been moving through the realms, it isn’t slowing down. It isn’t choosing favorites. Wherever it reaches, it stays.

And if you haven’t seen it yet... you will.”

A few people shifted at that.

Someone near the back muttered something she could not make out.

“I’m putting something together,” she continued. “Not another group that talks in circles and mistakes that for progress. Something that actually moves.

Real coordination between realms before this becomes worse than it already is.”

She let that sit for a moment, expecting something. Anything.

Nothing came.

So she pushed harder.

“If you’re waiting for someone else to fix it, that isn’t happening. No one is coming to save you from it.

Either you get involved now, or you deal with it when it reaches you.

And by then, it’s already too late.”

Still nothing.

No pushback. No questions. Just people staring at her as though she had begun speaking a language they had no interest in learning.

Azaliyah’s jaw tightened. She shifted her weight, letting more of her natural edge slip free.

“So what, this is the part where everyone stands around hoping it skips them?” she said, sweeping a glance across the crowd. “Because that’s not a plan. That’s just waiting to be swallowed, then acting surprised when it happens.”

A man near the front folded his arms. Another person looked away entirely. Someone coughed.

That was it.

Azaliyah let out a slow breath through her nose as the truth settled in, whether she liked it or not.

“Right,” she muttered, more to herself than to anyone else.

From the side, she felt Camron shift, as though he had something to say and was deciding whether it was worth the effort.

She did not look at him.

A voice cut cleanly through the quiet, calm and entirely unaffected.

“You two look like you haven’t eaten.”

Azaliyah blinked once and turned her head.

An older woman stood there, holding out a bowl as if the last few minutes had not happened at all.

“Sit,” she said simply. “You can talk after.”

Azaliyah stared at her for a moment, then glanced at Camron, then back at the bowl.

“You’re serious,” she said.

The woman’s expression did not change.

That was answer enough.

Azaliyah took the bowl, still trying to process it, then stepped out of the center without another word.

As they moved to the side, she shook her head slightly beneath her breath.

“Yeah... that landed exactly how I thought it would.”

Camron stepped beside her, close enough that his voice would not carry.

“You came in strong,” he said.

She gave him a look sharp enough to cut bark.

“Don’t do that.”

He did not argue.

Azaliyah had only just started on the soup when the shift came.

Subtle at first. The kind of thing you missed unless you were already paying attention.

The air changed. Not colder exactly. Just... heavier.

As though something had settled over the village without making a sound.

She paused mid-step, bowl still in her hand, her eyes lifting past the buildings.

Around them, the villagers felt it too.

No one panicked.

That was the part that stood out.

There was no shouting. No confusion. No scrambling. Just a quick, almost wordless understanding as people began moving with purpose.

Doors were pulled shut. Windows covered. Conversations cut off mid-sentence as though someone had flipped a switch.

Then someone finally said it, loud enough to carry.

“Alright, that’s enough for today. Get inside before it gets worse.”

Another voice answered from across the square, sharper this time.

“Move it! If you’re still standing out here in ten seconds, that’s on you!”

Azaliyah lowered the bowl slowly, watching the change unfold in real time as the entire village snapped into motion.

Beside her, Camron let out a quiet breath.

“See, Tinker Bell,” he said, nodding toward the villagers moving with practiced precision, “that’s how you take charge.”

Azaliyah did not even look at him.

“f**k off, horse deer.”

People rushed past them without stopping or hesitating. Some snatched supplies without breaking stride. Others ushered groups toward the same large stone structure she had noticed earlier.

It did not take long for the truth to click into place.

“They’ve done this before,” she said, quieter now.

“More than once,” Camron replied, already watching the edges of the village instead of the people.

A woman hurried past them, the same one from earlier. The bowl was still in her hand, now empty, her expression unchanged.

“If you’re not inside, don’t expect anyone to come get you,” she said, never slowing as she passed.

Then she was gone. Just like that.

Azaliyah turned slightly, watching as the last of the villagers disappeared into the building and the doors shut behind them one by one.

“We just got here,” she said, almost under her breath.

Camron did not answer right away.

“Yeah,” he said after a second. “And apparently we’re already behind.”

The final door slammed shut, echoing through the empty square.

Silence followed.

No movement. No voices. Nothing left but the two of them standing in the middle of a place that had emptied itself in less than a minute.

Azaliyah exhaled slowly, glancing toward the building, then back at him.

“So let me get this straight,” she said, shifting the bowl in her hand. “We walk in here talking about fixing things, pulling people together... and they already have a whole system for when s**t goes sideways?”

“Looks like it.”

She shook her head once, short and dry.

“That’s actually kind of insulting.”

Before he could respond, something shifted again.

This time, it was not subtle.

At the far edge of the village, where the trees thinned just enough to see beyond them, something dark began to roll in. It did not rush. It did not crash through anything. It simply moved, slow, steady, and wrong in a way that made it difficult to look at for too long.

It spread low at first, like smoke clinging to the ground, but thicker than anything natural. It did not drift. It consumed.

Every inch it passed over lost definition, swallowed into something that left nothing behind.

Azaliyah straightened, eyes narrowing.

“That’s what they’re running from.”

Camron stepped forward just enough to see more clearly, his expression tightening.

“That’s not natural.”