The gray town lay shrouded in ominous silence, the looming dread of Maerys's prophecy stifling its once lively spirit. Five days had passed since the last murder, marking the arrival of the dreaded day when the thief was predicted to strike again. The streets, once filled with life, now stood deserted, as the townsfolk cowered in their homes.
Mihir's heart was heavy, burdened not only by the looming threat of the thief but also by the complexities of his personal life. Just moments ago, the mystic fairy had revealed the prophecy of Maerys, sending shivers down his spine. The ailing Soul fairy in the castle and his strained relationship with his twin, Meer, further weighed on his mind.
"Fuck that" he muttered under his breath as he vigorously attempted, for the third time, to remove a stubborn stain from a utensil. An hour had passed, and the blemish clung obstinately, refusing to yield. The tiny mystic fairy, no larger than a finger, watched his efforts with empathetic curiosity.
"Any word from the castle?" he asked, determined to rid himself of the stain.
"In the evening, Meer, along with the music, thunder and Mischief fairy, will stand guard. The Queen fairy's orders are clear – we mustn't leave the town, and we must do everything in our power to capture the murderer," she informed him.
"Let everyone know that I'll be joining them as well. I'll watch over another part of the town to avoid unwanted attention," Mihir declared, finally seeing the stain fading as it lightened. The mystic fairy nodded, disappearing into thin air, leaving Mihir with a quiet determination in his heart.
"I won't let you down today," he whispered to himself, his resolve firming.
As time passed, he overheard the sounds of a quarrel coming from the restaurant's kitchen. Elisa and Marith, the proprietors of the establishment, were engaged in one of their humorous yet passionate disputes.
Elisa, her hands animatedly emphasizing her point, exclaimed, "Marith, do you even know how to chop vegetables properly? You're butchering those poor carrots!"
Marith, defiantly gripping a carrot in one hand and a knife in the other, fired back, "My dear, if I can handle you, I can certainly handle these carrots."
Elisa couldn't let Marith have the last word. She playfully wagged a finger at him. "Well, darling, it's no secret that your taste buds are as timid as a field mouse. A little spice never hurt anyone!"
Marith feigned a gasp, clutching his chest in mock horror. "A field mouse? My love, I thought I was at least a brave lion!"
The diners seated nearby erupted in laughter, appreciating the couple's knack for turning mundane tasks into uproarious entertainment.
Feigning indignation, Elisa crossed her arms. "Oh, you think you're so clever, don't you? Just wait until you taste my soup later."
Marith couldn't resist a mischievous grin. "Well, Elisa, the last time you called it 'spicy,' it nearly set my mouth on fire!"
Their playful banter continued, captivating the audience with their comedic chemistry. It was a rare delight to witness such a loving couple, completely at ease with each other's quirks and still deeply enamored.
Amused by the couple's antics, Mihir chuckled as he observed their spirited exchange. He heard Riddham approach from behind, munching on an apple and enjoying the humorous spectacle.
"They never change,"she remarked, watching the couple with a fond smile.
"They may argue, but they're cute together," he replied, his gaze shifting to Ridham.
" you look cute too " she said playfully.
Mihir raised an eyebrow, caught off guard by her comment. "What?"
"I said you look like a fruit." She teased.
"That doesn't even make any sense," he protested, feigning bewilderment.
Riddham shrugged, an impish glint in her eyes. "Whatever." With that, she darted away, leaving Mihir blushing and chuckling to himself.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, the town's shops and doors shut three hours earlier than usual. Marith, too, closed his restaurant and granted his employees an early evening. Soon after dinner, Omar and Mihir retreated to their chamber, which now bore a stark contrast to its initial state. The spiderwebs were gone, and the corners were free of dust and grime, thanks to their diligent cleaning the previous night.
"Why do you think she wants to kill people?" Omar pondered, his finger digging into his nose absentmindedly.
Lying on his sheet, Mihir stared at the blue ceiling above and replied, "If only I had a clue." He mulled over the unsettling possibilities.
"What if she has a hidden agenda?" Omar continued, this time sticking the same finger into his earlobe. Unperturbed, he went on, "Like, maybe she's seeking revenge or on some sort of mission."
Mihir turned to face him, a mixture of annoyance and amusement evident in his expression. Closing his eyes, he retorted, "I'm feeling sleepy now. Let's discuss this another time."
With that, Mihir closed his eyes, though the question lingered in his mind. Could the thief be driven by something more sinister than mere greed?
Moments later, a butterfly fluttered into the room, transforming into a pixie the size of a butterfly. Her blonde hair framed her face, and her four delicate wings resembled those of her butterfly form.
"Master Mihir, the fairies have arrived and are calling for you," she conveyed before disappearing into thin air. Mihir took a deep breath, his heart pounding with anticipation as he contemplated the various scenarios that awaited him on this fateful night.