(POV King Ciallmhar)
I'm worried.
I knew things were bad… but I thought we had more time.
Baelkers has just finished telling us what happened… and what Silèna's daughter and her husband did wasn't just reckless—
it cost us precious days.
"Where is Princess Aileen? And the others?" I ask.
"They didn't leave our realm that long ago," Queen Stella reasons, "…but if they managed to strike a deal with the sprites… they could already be inside the Inner Realm."
Hm… yes. That sounds right.
"They're sharp. Fast, too. I doubt Brick and the Sovereigns of the Fair Folk slowed them down…" Adalberto adds. "The girl might already be with the Orcs."
Fheall snaps toward him.
"Let's hope not! That would be a disaster! If that's the case, we'll never make it in time," she says, visibly shaken.
Then she turns to Aeltiàfisar.
His eyes are still closed. His body sways gently… like a pendulum.
I wonder if—
Baelkers voices the thought for me.
"Did you reach them?" he asks.
His brother opens his eyes.
The answer is already there, written across his face.
"I can't connect with any of them."
"I'll try too," Baelkers says.
Right.
"Me as well," I add.
(POV Fheall)
We all tried to reach them.
Nothing.
"That's… strange. What if they're in danger?" King Neptunes asks, unease creeping into his voice.
It's possible.
I pull out my emergency pouch and wave it in front of them.
"There's only one way to find out," I say. "The runes."
King Aisling looks at me with open disdain.
"The runes? What exactly do you expect to learn from such an outdated method?" he scoffs.
His wife, Desideria, smacks him hard with her fin.
Ah… tritons. Always blinded by their precious corals.
I smile.
"What we need, dear."
…then I shake the pouch.
"Runes, truthful and adored,
you who reveal all things to me,
for the friends we carry in our hearts—
what unfolds in the Fairy Realm beyond?"
I toss it into the air.
Seven runes spill out… and hang there, suspended.
Ehwaz and Othila reversed.
Hagalaz and Thurisaz upright.
Perth.
Eihwaz and Algiz reversed.
Hm…
That combination doesn't promise anything good.
"What do they say?" my queen asks, her voice tight with worry.
"They're in an isolated place… suspended… and…"
"…and?" King Ciallmhar presses.
"…there's been a loss. A serious one. As if…"
I hesitate.
"As if someone among them… has lost a part of themselves."
Silence falls.
We all try to understand what that could mean.
Who could lose something so essential?
"Dorcha!" Baelnes bursts out, hope lighting his voice. "Maybe the Fair Folk helped him recover his true essence!"
Hm… not impossible. But—
There's only one way to be sure.
I turn to him.
"How do you feel? Since last night, I mean. Angry? Do you feel… hatred? Resentment?"
He thinks for a moment.
"No. Quite the opposite. I just feel this strong urge to reach them."
Then no.
That's not it.
"What else do the runes say, Fheall?" Silèna asks.
I choose my words carefully. As clearly as I can.
"Something dark… and extremely powerful… has shattered the balance of the Inner Realm. It's dangerous. There's no survival for the fragile."
"So it has nothing to do with the destruction of the Sigillum Maximum…" Desideria murmurs.
"No… I think this is something far greater."
They all go pale.
Every single one of them.
No point in pretending otherwise.
"Whatever is happening down there… it will reach them all. And us."
I let the words settle.
"Unfortunately… there's nothing we can do to help them."
A breath.
"They'll have to face it on their own."
(POV Aileen)
I can move again.
Finally.
I run to Dorcha.
Grogher and the others follow right behind me.
But—what…
"Something appeared where the ashes were—look!"
Dorcha turns toward me.
His eyes…
Empty.
"Who are you? Get away from me."
Flat. Cold.
He shoves me to the ground.
But—
Grogher rushes to help me up.
"Dorrcha!" he snaps, pulling me to my feet.
Dorcha barely spares him a glance.
Then he whistles.
Hercules comes thundering toward him.
In one smooth motion, Dorcha leaps onto his back, rears him up—
and they take off at a full gallop.
"Dorcha, stop!" I shout. "Come back!"
I run after him—desperate.
I stumble, push myself up, run again…
…but he's already gone.
Tears sting my eyes.
I don't understand…
I look at Grogher.
He's just as shaken.
"He'll come back. You'll see," he says. "It's this place. That's not him anymore."
…Yeah.
Yeah, that has to be it.
I take a deep breath and wipe my tears.
He'll come back to himself. Sooner or later.
Right now… something else matters more.
The fairy.
I move to her side and kneel.
She's unconscious… but still breathing.
Thank the clouds.
"Raertha… do you think you can help her?"
My unicorn steps beside me, studying her carefully.
She lowers her head, inhales… then lets out a soft neigh.
A warm, multicolored light flows from her horn, wrapping around the fairy—
focusing on what's left of her wings.
For a moment… color returns to her face.
But the wings don't grow back.
And whatever Raertha is doing… it's not enough.
So what now?
I feel… lost.
"This isn't a normal wound, Aileen," Grogher says. "I can feel the mark of dark magic. I don't think Raerrtha can do anything more."
"I figured as much… Help me lift her onto Sidae, please. She'll be warmer there. Safer. Then we need to find somewhere quiet—somewhere we can treat her."
I swallow.
"If we can't restore her wings… she'll die. They're the core of her power. Without them… a fairy can't survive."
"Do you think it's possible?"
"I don't know, Grog. But if there's even the slightest chance… we have to try."
Sidae lets out a low roar, drawing our attention.
It's soft. Almost gentle.
He's pawing at something on the ground—carefully, delicately—
purring as he does.
I turn.
Where that horrible dark fairy stood just moments ago…
there's a small body.
A child.
A fairy child.
Still.
Lifeless.
She must have been twisted. Possessed. Turned into something else.
I lift her into my arms.
She's so small…
So beautiful.
She can't be more than five. Maybe six.
No heartbeat.
Nothing.
There's nothing left to save.
(POV Queen Urchoicha)
This foolish gnome is testing my patience.
All he does is stroke that ridiculous beard of his.
Speak already.
Is there truly so much to think about?
If we didn't need him, I would have thrown him off the cliff myself.
"Hm. The proposal you've presented is… interesting," he says.
How generous of you.
"However, should I decide to assist you… I will require more."
What?!
More?
"More?!" Bàistec snaps. "You've already claimed mining rights over the entire Grand Universal Realm!"
The little wretch fixes his watery eyes on my husband—calm, disdainful.
Detestable.
"What is it, Orc King?" he replies smoothly. "Does that trouble you? I can always take nothing, if you prefer. In that case, however… I see no reason to support you."
A pause.
"Take your time. I'm in no hurry. We'll meet again tomorrow. Here. Same time. And you will give me your answer."
He must be joking.
I glance around.
The others look just as stunned as I am.
To be blackmailed… by a creature that barely reaches our ankles—
It's…
It's…
Unthinkable.
"I think you're pushing this too far!" Scrios growls.
But the gnome doesn't flinch.
He laughs.
And… his bat laughs with him.
It flutters erratically, as if mocking us.
Unthinkable.
"As you wish," he says at last, bowing deeply. "Until tomorrow, Your Majesties."
Before anyone can respond, he—and that pathetic little insect—vanish into the darkness of the tunnels.
The audacity.
Pure madness.
(POV Dorcha)
A lake.
I can stop here.
I like this place.
Endless night. Silence.
It feels… right.
Like home.
I slide off Hercules' back to let him drink.
Strange.
Instead, he snorts—sharp, uneasy—
and steps back.
Scared.
Let me see.
Hm…
That smell.
Metallic.
Almost—
I crouch by the edge and dip my hand into the water.
…Yeah.
I was right.
Fairy blood.
Blue… but still blood.
And yet—
I can't remember.
Where am I?
Why am I here?
…
What was that?
I turn sharply, senses snapping awake.
A voice.
From those bushes.
"Stop! I said stop—come back! It's dangerous! You'll get us discovered! Damn it, stop!"
A robin shoots out like a blade—
straight into my face.
Wings beating wildly.
"Get off me, you stupid thing!" I snap—
and grab it by the neck.
I'm about to twist—
when I see her.
Another dark fairy stepping out from the bushes.
Beautiful.
Young… very young.
Twelve, maybe.
Amber skin. Emerald eyes. Hair like night.
Dressed in black. Wings too.
But… no trace of darkness in her.
"Don't do it!" she orders, trying to sound threatening.
I almost laugh.
She's terrified.
"Why?" I ask. "What are you going to do about it?"
Let's see.
"I… I'll… I'll kill you," she stammers.
No conviction.
No fire.
"No, you won't."
I toss the bird aside.
Same as her.
It flees.
Pathetic.
"...I'll be the one killing you."
I lock eyes with her.
One second—
and she freezes.
Perfect.
A perfect little prey.
I could play with this.
A cut here. Another there. Then—
She's trembling now.
Eyes wide.
Begging.
I love it when they do that.
Enough.
I draw my sword, rolling it between my fingers—
ready to strike.
…
What—
What's happening?
My head—
It hurts.
I stagger.
Images slam into me.
A house.
Lace. Curtains. Fragile things.
On the floor—
a fairy woman.
A fairy man.
Dead.
Around them—
young fairies.
All black.
All beautiful.
All empty.
A woman stands before them.
Proud.
Satisfied.
And—
that little fairy…
hidden in the dark, in another room.
Watching.
Frozen.
Terrified.
The vision shatters.
My heart is pounding out of my chest.
What is happening to me?
I can't breathe.
I want to scream—
to cry—
I lock my arm in place.
Force the blade to stop.
What am I doing?
This… this isn't an enemy.
She's more like—
that strange girl.
The one who was chasing me earlier.
Calling my name.
I sheath my sword.
Raise a finger.
The spell breaks.
The fairy gasps, able to move again.
"What's your name?" I ask.
"…Gaithy," she says.
Surprised.
Of course she is.
"You're not really a dark fairy. So what is this—some kind of act?"
"To hide," she says. "I don't want to end up trapped in another body… like my sisters."
What?
What is she talking about?
"Tell me what's going on."
She nods.
A little calmer now.