"The Fairy Who Sat by the Canal"

The village was quiet. The kind of quiet that speaks, if you listen closely — through rustling leaves, through the soft gurgle of a narrow canal that runs through its heart like an old secret.

Every evening, just as the sun dipped behind the mustard fields, Ayaan would walk to that canal alone. He wasn’t rich. He wasn’t known. Just a boy with dirt on his hands and dreams in his eyes.

But his heart was restless.

He’d sit by the edge, throw a stone into the still water, and whisper,

"If anyone’s listening… show me something more. Show me love. Show me magic."

He didn’t expect a reply.

But one night — the water shimmered. Light rose like steam, soft and golden. He blinked, heart racing.

She was there.

A fairy. A real one.

Wings like glass. Hair like flowing night. Eyes so calm they made the whole world stop.

She looked at him and smiled. “I’ve heard your voice, Ayaan.”

He didn’t move. “Are you real?”

She laughed — light, clear, not of this world. “As real as your longing.”

---

Her name was Noor, and from that night on, the canal became theirs.

They met under stars. Spoke in silences. Laughed like children.

She showed him magic — not tricks, not illusions — but beauty.

She sang to the moon, and lilies bloomed. She touched water, and it danced.

But more than anything, she touched him.

Not his skin, but his soul. She listened like no one ever had. She saw him — the real him, beneath the quiet, beneath the rough hands.

And he fell in love, gently, deeply, without trying.

---

But magic has rules.

She belonged to a world behind a veil — a place where time didn’t tick like clocks. Noor had only seven nights in the human world. No more.

And just like that, the last night came.

The moon was full. The air was cold. And Ayaan… had never been more warm.

She looked at him with tears in eyes that never cried. “I can’t stay.”

He didn’t beg. He only said: “Take me with you.”

She shook her head. “Your body wouldn’t survive. But your heart will.”

She gave him a crystal — small, glowing, shaped like a tear. “Keep this. On full moons, if you truly remember me — I’ll come. Even if only for a breath.”

She leaned in. Kissed his forehead. And disappeared into light.

---

The villagers noticed.

Ayaan changed.

He still worked. Still smiled. But he never loved another. Never married. Never left.

They called him strange. They didn’t understand why he sat by the canal on cold nights, clutching something in his hand, eyes closed, lips whispering her name.

But they didn’t see what he saw.

Because sometimes — on rare nights — she came back.

For moments.

For one look. One smile. One whisper in the dark.

And to him, it was enough.

---

🌙 Ending Note:

Not all love stories live in houses or wear rings.

Some float on water. Some live in memory.

Some — like Ayaan and Noor — exist between heartbeats, and are remembered by the wind.

"I conclude the story with words filled with love."

Beneath the moon, where waters gleam,

He met a light beyond a dream.

Her wings were soft, her voice a song,

A place where silent hearts belong.

They spoke in hush, they touched no time,

Their souls entwined in love’s old rhyme.

But magic fades when dawn draws near,

And fairy songs begin to tear.

She left a kiss, a crystal tear,

"Remember me — I’ll reappear."

Now by the canal, he still stays,

And waits through years, through clouded days.

For love once born by starlit streams,

Lives on in hearts… and in our dreams.