My Grandmother taught me all about the faeries. She had played with them as a girl, and received a special peep stone to let her see through magic the Fae use to hide. I was the only one who believed her stories. When she died, I stole her stone to forever prove that she was telling the truth. Through the stone, I saw a path that had been invisible before. I followed it to a ring of standing stones.

Something was wrong. the stones had been defaced with glyphs, and a massive iron-rod driven into the center.

A horseshoe in the door, or a nail in the pocket can keep away mischievous faeries. An 8-foot spike at a nexus of Fae magic may disrupt an entire kingdom! I continued my search, but found only a single, weakened pixie. Its breathing was labored. As the morning sun filled up the clearing, the pixie turned to vapor in my hands

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