he forests of Arkhangelsk are thick with graceful spruces and thick cedar, the ground a tangle of ferns and brambles. They bear witness to a powerful pact — the Sfera Covenant — drawn between Humankind and Fae that has stood for nearly a thousand years. The height of summer approaches, when the magickal tokens brought together and the vows must be renewed.

The courts of the Muscovite Princes and the fearsome Leshye converge under the dark green canopy. Much has changed since the early days of the covenant. For some, this means that the covenant should be negotiated anew, on terms more favorable for themselves. For others, the covenant has been a source of security and prosperity, something not to be lightly put aside. There are also those who chafe under its constraints, dreaming and scheming of seeing the covenant torn asunder.

Long after the night has embraced the long shadows of the evening, a web of intrigue lies amidst the ancient tress. Only light of the moon will show who has prevailed.