From a hill crowned with radiant moonflowers, the fairy queen emerges She glided forward without touching the ground, her gown woven of living blossoms and light itself. Her skin gleamed like starlit ivory, and her long hair flowed like silk spun from moonbeams, adorned with pearls that shimmered with their own inner glow. Her eyes, one a deep amethyst, the other a soft golden hue which carried a timeless wisdom and grace, yet burned with subtle fire.
All four instinctively stepped back, humbled not by fear, but by awe.
"You have walked far and bled much," the queen spoke, her voice a delicate chord of wind, water, and memory. "You carry not only wounds, but purpose."
The fairies circled above in reverent silence, forming a spiral of light around their queen. The garden responded to her presence, petals unfolding, vines curling with life, the very air glittering as if touched by stars.
Xenric dropped to one knee, still clutching his bandaged side. Darion followed, though his wide eyes were filled with childlike wonder. General Morgan bowed stiffly, his injuries evident, while Khezly remained still, watchful, silent, but oddly respectful.
"We seek no quarrel, Your Grace," Xenric said hoarsely. "Only refuge… and healing."
The Queen's smile was serene. "Then you shall have both."
With a wave of her hand, vines shifted aside, revealing a pathway into a hidden glade, where soft light pooled like water and the air tasted of mint and honey. A new chapter of rest had begun, but within the Queen's shimmering eyes, one could already sense she knew the battles still to come.
The four tread softly on the glowing path laid before them, guided by the gentle luminescence of the fairies and the murmuring song of nature itself. As they walked deeper into the heart of the enchanted grove, the air thickened with magic, light drifting in silken strands around them, clinging to their skin like warm mist.
Xenric felt it first. A sudden stillness.
The world around him halted. The sounds of footsteps, the whispers of fairies, even the rustle of leaves, all silenced.
A flicker of light burst around him like a falling star, and in a blink, he was no longer with the others.
The grove had shifted.
He now stood alone in a vast clearing cloaked in twilight. Time seemed to pause, the world wrapped in a delicate veil of magic. Before him stood the Fairy Queen, not floating now, but standing in the soft moss with bare feet, her presence no less radiant, yet more tangible. The light behind her pulsed like a heartbeat.
She regarded him with eyes filled with memories that stretched back to the dawn of stories.
"I know you, boy," she said softly, her voice brushing against his thoughts.
Xenric's breath caught in his throat.
The Queen's expression was unreadable, serene, yet distant, like one beholding an echo of something long forgotten.
"But…" she continued, stepping closer, "it's good to see you well."
And then…
A flash. A wind. The sudden burst of silence shattered.
Xenric blinked.
He was back.
Darion was a few steps ahead, glancing back at him. General Morgan leaned on Khezly, who was whispering something under her breath. The fairies still flitted about as though nothing had changed.
Xenric stood frozen for a heartbeat, his heart pounding, sweat clinging to his brow.
Was it magic? A vision? A hallucination brought on by exhaustion?
He didn't know. But her words rang in his mind with unsettling clarity.
The fireflies of the fairy grove flickered overhead like stars caught between tree branches. The four of them, Xenric, Darion, General Morgan, and Khezly sat on a large, flat stone at the edge of the village, just beyond the reach of the fairies' glowing flora. For the first time in days, there was no sound of steel, no smell of blood. Only the hush of the forest and the occasional crackle of distant fairy laughter.
Xenric broke the silence. "You came back to Aeronberg. Why?"
Khezly's mismatched eyes, one blue, and one green glinted under the soft glow. "To warn my father," she said with a sigh. "I knew Kargrosh would come. He's been sweeping across the southern realms like a wildfire. The elves, they knew it too."
"Then why didn't you come sooner?" Darion asked, his tone more curious than accusatory.
"I tried," she admitted, her jaw tightening. "But there are politics among the elves. Old grudges. Not all agreed it was our place to interfere. By the time I escaped their debate and reached Aeronberg" her voice faltered, "it was already burning."
General Morgan, still pale and bruised, nodded slowly. "I told her to flee. There was no winning that battle once the gates fell."
Darion clenched his fists. "No. I still believe the king is alive. King Arren wouldn't fall so easily. He's strong. He must've survived."
Xenric looked between the two of them, torn between reason and hope.
Khezly shook her head solemnly. "You don't understand Warlord Kargrosh. He doesn't leave survivors, especially not those who threaten his claim to the Crown of All Kings. He and Arren, they were destined to clash. He would make sure the king was dead."
Darion's eyes flared. "We can't just leave him. Or what's left of the kingdom. We owe it to Aeronberg."
"Even if he's alive," Xenric reasoned, "we have no weapons, no energy. We barely escaped with our lives. Going back now would be-"
"Suicide," Morgan finished, coughing hard, then wincing. "But maybe… maybe he's right. If King Arren lives, he'll be gathering the remnants. Trying to hold what's left."
"Or he's already a corpse rotting under a mound of ash," Khezly said coldly, then sighed, her voice softening. "But, if we don't look, we'll never know."
The four of them fell silent. The night hummed around them, and the fairies watched from the trees with glowing eyes.
Finally, Darion stood. "I'm going. I'll look at what's left of Aeronberg. If there's a sign of him, of anything, we'll know what to do."
Xenric stood beside him. "Then I'm coming too."
Khezly exhaled slowly. "Fools. But fine. We all go."
Even Morgan managed a nod. "I'll make it. I didn't crawl through hell to sit and die in a garden of light."
And so, with heavy hearts and uncertain futures, they made their decision.
To return, not to fight, but to witness.
To see what remained of the kingdom that once stood tall against darkness.
However, for now, they allowed their bodies to rest.