As the night slowly fell over the lands of the fae, a single carriage rolled along the pathway to the crystal spire.
Underneath the archway that led to the home of the realm's monarch, two fae guards stood side by side, blocking the way forward.
When the carriage drew close enough, one of the soldiers hit the butt end of his spear against the ground to command the attention of the man in front, holding onto the reins of the horses.
"Turn back, visitor." One fae said. "The Empress is not hosting any festivities for the time being."
Rather than leaving as he had been asked, the coachman held up a roll of parchment bearing a very specific seal.
At the sight of it, the guards glanced at each other momentarily.
"We need to confirm it's authenticity."
"Sure thing."The coachman shrugged.
The second guard sauntered forward on wings of silken membrane. Going over the paper with his eyes once or twice, he nodded before passing it back to it's owner.
