Prologue – In The Courts Of Winter:

The world is a strange place, growing stranger by the day. People move through their lives, working jobs they resent to buy fleeting moments of happiness, only to repeat the cycle week after week. They sleepwalk through their surroundings, often blind to the beauty and grace of the world around them. This is where the term Sleeper comes from—those who remain uninitiated, unaware of the wider world beyond the mundane.

Then there are the Dreamers, who know but choose not to see. They are content to drift among the Sleepers, letting the world turn without their interference. Rarer still are those who walk the path between, seeing both the Dream and the waking world. These awakened Sleepers are known as Witnesses.

And then there is us. We have been called many things throughout the ages—Ghouls, Sprites, Changelings—but names mean little when our forms and motives are as varied as the stars. We are, and always have been, the Fae.

Naturally, the next question tends to follow: what of the creatures of myth? Do they exist? The answer is simple: yes. Some live among the Sleepers, like the nocturnal Dhampirs and Vampires or the enigmatic Shapeshifters. Others watch from afar—Water Maidens drifting in their secluded pools, for example. And then there are those who actively manipulate the Sleepers, such as Demons and Angels.

Yet one thing binds these beings together: the Courts. All creatures of the Dream must abide by their rules, for the rules sustain the Dream. And should the Dream fade, the Sleepers will fade with it.

The Courts, four in number, are named for the seasons: Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter. Each Court introduces a new rule to the Dream, lasting until its Garden reaches full bloom. Spring Courts are often fleeting, marked by renewal, hope, and untamed growth. Summer Courts bring warmth, light, and vitality, fostering strength and unity within the Dream. Autumn Courts are a time of reflection and transformation, a season when the Dream turns inward, its hues deepening with wisdom and quiet melancholy. Winter Courts, by contrast, bring chill, discord, and estrangement, testing the resolve of those who dwell in the Dream and have been known to last for years.

I have served as the Courts’ Scribe for longer than I can recall, documenting the delicate balance they maintain. But in all my years, I have never seen a Winter this harsh or this unyielding. If the Glacial Garden does not bloom soon, the damage may be irreparable, and the Dream may not survive.