Sylvan Sunlight Remedy

"On nights so clear, when worlds entwine, The Sylvans’ forms in moonlight shine. Their beauty veiled, yet softly seen, With ancient eyes of forest green."

The forests remember what we’ve forgotten.

Long before the first human village, before axes bit into bark or roads scarred the earth, the Sylvans moved between the trees… the way water moves, the way light filters through canopy leaves. They are older than memory, these feminine spirits woven from living green and breathing shadow, with hair that flows like waterfall mist and eyes deep as moss-covered pools.

They guard the places we cannot touch. Silent groves of tranquility. The clearings where deer come to die in peace. Alongside the Grove Tenders—those towering, bark-skinned sentinels rooted in sacred ground—they tend the world’s wild heart, balancing growth against decay, life against its necessary ending.

But the Sylvans harbor a weakness: curiosity about mortal things.

Perhaps it’s how quickly we burn through our brief years, cramming decades with enough passion to fill centuries. Perhaps it’s our reckless capacity for love. Whatever draws them, throughout history some mortals have glimpsed these forest spirits at twilight’s edge, beside moonlit streams—women of impossible beauty who vanish like breath on cold air.

When a Sylvan reveals herself, it matters.

Seliana broke her concealment for Mira, a village herbalist who spent her days gathering healing plants at the forest’s edge. Day after day, Seliana watched from the shadows, enchanted by Mira’s gentle hands and the compassion in how she touched each leaf, each root. When she finally stepped into the light, their connection struck like flint on stone, immediate and undeniable.

Mira’s hands and face bore the constellation of sun spots that came from years working under open sky. One evening, as they lay together in a flower-filled clearing, Seliana traced those marks with delicate fingertips as tears as clear as spring water flowed down her cheeks. She couldn’t bear seeing time’s signature written so plainly on her beloved’s skin.

From morning dew and moonflower essence, from her own sylvan magic, Seliana crafted something unprecedented. Where the luminous remedy touched Mira’s skin, sun spots faded like shadows at dawn. But the real magic wasn’t in the healing—it was in the gesture itself. Love made visible. A promise that beauty lives in the caring touch, not the unmarked surface.

"Woven from moon and morning dew, A touch that makes old scars renew. Where sun has kissed and left its mark, drops restore what time turns dark"


Like all mortal-fae unions, theirs couldn’t last forever. The forests called Seliana back with voices beyond refusing. She went, leaving only memory and whispers of a miraculous remedy that spread village to village, hardening into legend.

That was centuries ago. The ancient forests have retreated. The world’s grown loud.

Yet in a certain place tucked away in Oldrian - Lichen & Lumina, you can buy small vials of “Sylvan Sunlight Remedy” from a proprietor with unusually bright eyes. Customers swear their sun spots fade with unnatural speed. When asked about the source, the shopkeeper only smiles. “There’s always truth in legends,” she says.

Late at night, when the moon swells full, late visitors report seeing a figure in the gardens behind the shop. A form that moves like water, like light. Whose touch makes flowers bloom out of season. Who shimmers faintly before dissolving into shadow.

Maybe the Sylvans never left. Maybe they learned to hide in plain sight, weaving their magic through ordinary days, continuing their ancient work. Maybe, for those with eyes to see and hearts cracked open to wonder, love between magical and mortal still blooms in hidden corners, leaving its evidence in small miracles and gentle remedies that taste like wind through leaves.

Magic, like love, doesn’t die. It only learns new forms.

"They walk among us, secrets deep,
Of love and woods, their hearts still keep. In search they roam, far from home, Their hearts to gift, where love is known."