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The thick, vibrant orange walls of Great Aunt Garnet's conjured pumpkin pulse softly around Pearlie, Jasper, and Opal. Outside, the whispers of Halloween - the clatter of dry leaves, the distant, eerie hoot of an owl - send shivers down Pearlie’s spine, even through the magical protection.
It’s very quiet in here, save for the crackling of the enchanted lantern and their hushed voices. Fairies and elves fear Halloween, a night when the veil between worlds thins and unseen things stir.
"Okay, my turn," Jasper says, his voice a little shaky despite his bravado.
He's 15, almost as tall as Pearlie, but tonight, he looks younger. His usually mischievous eyes are wide with an almost comical fear. He leans forward, his shadow stretching monstrously on the curved wall.
"So, this old willow tree down by the Whispering Falls? They say it moves at night, its branches reaching for lost sprites…"
Pearlie shivers, pulling her knees closer. She yearns to be anywhere else, or perhaps for Saphira to be here. Her older cousin’s cool, practical nature is a comforting shield against these spooky stories. But Saphira, ever the independent 20-year-old, refused.
"It’s for kids," she'd scoffed, preferring her peaceful solitude in the Crystal Spa.
Meanwhile, in the tranquil, steam-filled Crystal Spa, Saphira enjoys the warm, scented mist, a serene contrast to the unsettling night. She closes her eyes, letting the quiet soothe her, believing herself safe from any Halloween spooks.
Suddenly, a frantic scratching begins at the thick glass doors. Thump, scrape, thump!
Saphira’s eyes snap open, her heart leaping into her throat. A shadowy, distorted face presses against the glass, eyes wide and unblinking. It’s Ludwig, the usually docile forest bat, who somehow got locked out. He’s trying to get in, and his desperate attempts at re-entry contort his features into a truly terrifying sight. Saphira lets out a startled shriek, scrambling back, her quiet evening shattered by the biggest scare of all.