The Butterfly charm is cast in solid sterling silver. Available in your choice of Choker or Necklace:

• CHOKER: Sterling Silver charm on 14” Stainless Steel Ball Chain ($70)

• NECKLACE: Sterling Silver charm on 18” Sterling Silver Chain ($95)

Charm Dimensions: 5/8” (L) x 1/2” (W)

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕱𝖔𝖚𝖗: 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕭𝖚𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖋𝖑𝖎𝖊𝖘

Sevelin awoke from a dream that felt like a memory. Since receiving the Mage’s cryptic note, every night she dreamt of the abandoned ruins of Duskfell Keep that lay in the forests just beyond her family’s land. Legend warned the castle grounds were cursed by a defector Lunar Sorceress in the Battle for the Orb of Flame. The townsfolk were a suspicious lot and mostly kept away from the ruins. Young Sevelin, however, was undeterred by these tales and would sneak away at every opportunity to explore the remains of the once mighty Keep. 

The dream was always the same. After trekking through the forest and reaching the Keep’s crumbling walls, she suddenly found herself at the base of a stone staircase she had never seen before. The unusual steepness of the staircase obscured her view of the topmost steps, but she could still perceive a soft light glowing from above. She was drawn by the light, but before she could begin her ascent the dreamscape would dissolve abruptly, leaving her grasping at it’ smokey trails in the morning mist. Every night the dream came to her and every time she failed to discover the source of the light atop the stairs. 

Weary from her wandering and restless from her unfulfilling dream, Sevelin ducked into a small tavern to contemplate the Mage’s message over a flagon of dragon’s ale. One flagon quickly became four, and before she knew it she was recounting her dream to any tavern patron who would lend an ear. By first light there were few left in the dusty watering hole including a road-worn Falconer Troll and a grey-haired Flora Witch, both of whom sat listening intently to Sevelin’s every word. Even in her jolly state Sevelin was careful to not speak of the magical specimen with which she was traveling, nor the three words scribbled on the Mage’s scroll. 

By the end of her story, Sevelin’s two new acquaintances pondered the details over another cup of ale. “Curious,” replied the Falconer. “Curious indeed,” added the elderly Witch. After a long draw from their pipe the Falconer leaned in and spoke hushedly into Sevelin’s ear, “Have you considered this dream may be guiding you home?” Before Sevelin could reply, the Tavern door swung open suddenly with a strong gust of wind. Instinctively, she twisted around on her stool with her hand on her blade, but nothing came through the doorway except bits of hay and leafmeal. As she turned back to her table, however, the Troll had vanished. “Where did the Falconer go?” Sevelin questioned the Witch, who was now staring deeply into the depths of her ale.  

“Where did who go my dear?” the Witch replied, her gaze slowly returning to Sevelin. Unsettled by the Troll’s sudden disappearance, her mind now reverberated with the Troll’s theory. With one last swig of ale, she bid the Witch adieu, and started on the road back home to explore the ruins of Duskfell Keep once more. 

After many lights traveling on foot, soon the trees began to look familiar, and the woodland creatures stirred, sensing Sevelin’s return. Following the old babbling brook, Sevelin found the path to the ruins had become rather overgrown since her last visit. She cut her way forward through thorny brambles and tangled tree vines until bits of the cobblestone road began to peek through the underbrush. She was close. 

With a few more strikes of her blade, a familiar sight came into view--the towering archway of Duskfell’s northern gate. As soon as Sevelin set foot within the castle walls a wind picked up from the east. On it rode three silver butterflies. Mesmerized, Sevelin watched in childlike wonder as their sparkling wings floated overhead toward the Keep. As quickly as they approached, they were just as quickly almost out of sight. “Follow the butterflies.” The chase was on.