The Great Flame of the Sunset Court is an Arch Fey from far beyond Loria's shores, ancient beyond imagining and seemingly every bit as powerful as the Great Spirit Protectors of Loria. While those Spirits sleep, the protection they offered has faded and allowed the Arch Fey and their court to slip inside.

Most encounters with the Court and its Sovereign are unintentional, a result of having unknowingly drawn the attention of something far darker than a normal nightmare. It is said that the Fey walk in dreams and thinking of them can brush the world of dreams against their domain, allowing them to step through that thin barrier into reality. Whatever the case, it remains that numerous sightings have been reported in all corners of Loria, and no one is quite sure exactly why.

When visited by the Court, most commonly the only Fey seen by victims guests is the Arch Fey themself, though the only commonality about the reports of their appearance is that they seem to be a Bracchus with a gleaming coat. Other details are hazy at best and contradictory at worst. However, these visits almost always begin when the Fey offers something to their hosts, whether that gift is an object of power, a magical boon, or even a pup with strange abilities, and the hosts accept.

The after is a bit blurry. Some say that the Fey smiles, bequeaths their gift, and departs. Other reports mention a banquet or party that begins when the sun sets and ends only when the Fey leaves, time never passing while they are present. A terrible few describe a host who refused or rebuked the gift - as it was not a gift but a curse - and suffered greatly for it. It is believed that these instances may be the cause behind some smaller packs disappearing seemingly overnight.

The best bet if you cannot avoid an encounter is to be polite and gracious and do not make them mad at any cost.

It can be inferred that this being has power over dreams, as many surviving host packs claim to have all had the same dream of the sun setting in the eastern sky the day of or the day before their visit. And those who report a party of some sort are adamant that time does not move while the Fey is present, remaining at dusk until well past when night should have fallen. It is unclear if this is time manipulation or just another part of the dream.

A few survivors of packs now vanished claim that when angry, displeased, or sometimes even just for fun, the Arch Fey can and has set fire to pack and den alike, burning everything in their path. There is little evidence of this claim besides the disappearance of the packs in question, often leaving their dens as little more than bare patches of earth, with no traces of fire.

It is recommended to avoid contacting this being in any way, no matter the temptation. Until more is understood, they are simply too dangerous to approach. Not even to ask questions.

- a tattered page in a worn journal, unsigned and undated -

I found one.

They were wandering alone at the time, and wouldn't tell me their name, their pack, or where they were going, and they disappeared down the trail when I attempted to follow them. But for the short while we walked together, they answered some questions for me.

They called themself an 'Emberling', a child of the Great Flame. If the Arch Fey has a name, they didn't know it and had never met them personally, but the Emberling was quite certain of their identity, and given what else they said - and demonstrated - I don't doubt them. How could I, after something like that?

Their birth was an uncertain affair; apparently they were just found in the den of a pack that had played host to their parent the previous evening. They don't remember it, of course, but they were told by those around them once they were old enough to start asking questions. It turns out creating fire at will and influencing the dreams of others isn't normal.

Unfortunately I wasn't able to observe the latter ability, but the Emberling did demonstrate fire-summoning for me; they simply breathed out and it was as if it kindled something within them. Their coat shimmered as if light was moving within and then wisps of smokeless flame were dancing at their paws, completely under their control.

They also, somewhat amusedly, claimed to be well over four times my age! I'm no elder, but they should have been little more than bones and dust were it true. The look they gave me when I laughed initially makes me wonder if they really were telling the truth. I mean, who knows how long the mortal child of an immortal can live?

They seemed, sad almost, at the idea of settling anywhere. I guess it can be difficult to find an accepting pack when you can do things so far beyond what many believe possible. But they were hopeful to find those who could accept them for who they are. I hope they do. I know there are many out there who would see their power as merely something to be used for their own gain. When I mentioned that, they laughed and said, "They don't realize what the price of that power is." I couldn't get them to elaborate on that.

We parted ways just after nightfall, and I doubt our paths will cross again in my lifetime. But they did say there were others, who were very different from them, who might have different abilities and bearings, so I'm going to keep looking.

- a scribbled note in the margins of a map of Murkwood -

It is said that death follows, always

But at least for this death, that does not always seem to be the truth. There are a number of reports asserting that a winged shadow appears before the arrival of the supposed Fey visitors, as if to herald their appearance. Such sightings are almost always a signal that the visit to come will be deadly, at least according to a few survivors. It's said the shadow carries the scent of wet ash in its wake, like rain in the aftermath of a forest fire.

It is unclear whether these sightings are actually happening or are some kind of dream, as in the case of multiple reports from the same pack, some who swear up and down to have seen the shadow against the sky are regarded as deluded by their packmates who never saw such a thing. It could be a hallucination brought on by paranoia. Such things are not unheard of, and with all the rumors of strange dreams and stranger happenings, it isn't unlikely.

Others say that the figure is definitely a dream, something seen in the fleeting shadows at the corners of their vision and gone when they turn to look properly. A few reports claim to have seen a flame-colored lupin lingering just beyond the shadow, watching as if unwilling or unable to interfere. There have been very, very few of such reports, but each one describes the details almost exactly the same way. It's difficult to lend any credence to it, but there may be something there.

While most sightings indicate that the shadow appears before the Arch Fey and their court, there is a growing number that indicate the figure may also appear after the Fey has gone and night has fallen in truth. They say it carries a lantern then, walking into the dark recesses and vanishing as if daring others to follow. There are a few written accounts turned in by worried relatives of individuals who had intended to follow the light, only to disappear shortly after writing the entry. This in particular is worrying.

It is unclear what exactly the relation between this omen of shadow and the Fey is, but the instances of their appearances are too close, and too frequent, for it to be mere circumstance. Until further research can be done, it is recommended to avoid the shadow if possible, do not follow the light into the darkness, and evacuate any area where it is seen as soon as possible.

The survivors of sightings are very clear that when it is seen, something is about to be burned.

- first page in a notebook with the cover torn off, the rest is indecipherable -

The scent of ash pervades the air, inescapable and imminent. A shadow, almost misty and difficult to discern but definitely there, watches with eyes gleaming as the forest burns. The fire itself is almost cold, entirely devoid of heat, but no less dangerous for the lack. Trees and brush and undergrowth alike wither under the cool flame, dying slowly in the crackling nothing, as if the fire ate their very vitality instead of their material forms.

Out of sight but no less inaudible for it, the screams of the dying and the silence of the dead, obscured within the darkness.

The shadow steps calmly among the flames, unhindered and unharmed, stopping every now and again to sniff at or paw one of the ever-accumulating piles of char almost carelessly. As if this is nothing outside of normal, boring even. The flames draw near, the roar of them overpowering the ever-fading sounds of torment deeper within the forest, until nothing else is visible, not even the shadow previously standing out like a void against the sun.

Then all is quiet, save harsh breathing in the dark warmth of a familiar den. A dream, nothing more.

But later that same day, after the memory of the dream has all but faded in the bright sunshine and daily pack activity, a stranger with bright eyes and a dark coat with pale markings steps from the undergrowth. Somehow, staring into their almost unreal gaze, it becomes all to clear that they know and something is about to go horribly, terribly wrong.