Clouds cover the morning sun and the sky rediscovers darkness. The forest waits humbly, casting shadows through its leaves and rendering its own twilight, and confused fireflies sing their graces through the light on their backs. You wait also. But humans are such impatient, fickle creatures. So you go deeper in, where the trees are older, where the world itself seems to hum something– not the trees, not the birds, not the frogs or the bugs– it’s something more, ancient and alive with magic. And now you are a trespasser– he appears before you, beautiful and almost shimmering with something that might be moonlight and something that might be magic– and he offers you, this trespasser, one option. There is only one option.

You stay with him in that forest forever.

When do we get to the bad part?