•Thunoa South Road•
[Ovelia’s POV]
The comforting rhythm of the wagon wheels was the only sound for a long mont, the quiet punctuated by the distant cry of a jay. The shared laughter was already a cherished mory, but a nagging thought, cold and insistent, began to poke at the edges of my contentnt. My eyes scanned the wagon’s interior, moving over the familiar figures of Ace, Ann, and Ray. Sothing was missing. Soone.
The fairy.
As if summoned by my very thought, a weight—no heavier than a sparrow—settled on my shoulder. A faint shimr of displaced air, a sll of honeysuckle and morning dew.
"Are you looking for ?" his voice whispered, a dry rustle of leaves directly by my ear.
I started, my head turning so quickly my neck protested. Perched on the shoulder of my dress was the tiny fairy, his prism wings twitching faintly.
The shift in the wagon was imdiate and palpable. Ace’s relaxed posture snapped into alertness, his silver eyes narrowing to sharp points. Ann, who had been cleaning her dagger, went perfectly still, her hand hovering mid-motion, her gaze calculating and cold. Ray, who had been leaning back with his eyes half-closed, sat up straight, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled deeply. A slow, knowing grin spread across his face.
"So," Ray drawled, his orange eyes alight with recognition. "You’re the one. I’ve been catching that strange scent—like a storm on a sumr day. The one they’ve been hiding from ." He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial rumble. "Wait... I rember your face. It wasn’t a dream. You’re the one I saw deep in the Silverhowl forest years ago, flickering between the trees like a trick of the light."
So the dream he’d ntioned in the Apple Forest... was this fairy.
"Hmmp," the fairy sniffed, crossing his arms over his chest in a gesture of pure defiance. "Of course I exist, you curious mutt." With a buzz of his wings, he launched himself from my shoulder, flitting to the center of the wagon, putting himself on display.
Wait. If he’s the fairy from the Silverhowl forest, then he must be— Before I could form the question, Ann’s voice cut through the tension.
"All of us can see you clearly," she stated, her eyes tracing the outline of his form. "And your wings are not actively glowing. That ans you’re not using any invisibility barrier right now, correct?"
"You’re correct!" the fairy declared, puffing out his tiny chest with a touch of pride.
Ace let out a short, sharp sigh, the sound filled with impatience. "Can you just state your purpose?" he demanded, his voice low and serious, devoid of its earlier warmth. "Why are you still here?"
"Being impatient already, witch-wolf?" the fairy retorted, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Fine. Now, let intro—" His declaration was cut short by a loud, unmistakable gurgle that emanated from his stomach.
A sudden, tense silence filled the wagon. I saw Ace’s jaw tighten, Ann’s lips press into a thin line, and Ray’s shoulders begin to shake. All of them were visibly fighting back laughter. A deep blush of embarrassnt spread across the fairy’s face, turning his cheeks a faint, shimring pink.
I quickly clapped my hands together, the sound breaking the awkward mont. "Let’s eat first," I suggested, my own stomach echoing the sentint. "I’m also hungry." The relief in the air was tangible as they all quickly agreed.
Ray pulled gently on the reins, bringing the horses to a stop beside a babbling forest stream. He reached into a wooden box at his side, pulling out crisp red apples and a waterskin. He hopped down, his movents efficient and sure, talking to the horses in a low, soothing murmur as he fed and watered them.
Ann moved to sit cross-legged on the wagon floor across from , and the fairy, after a mont’s hesitation, sitting with his legs stretched out before him like the rest of us.
Ann retrieved the large lunchbox Mrs. linda had pressed into her hands, placing it in the center of our small circle. The mont she lifted the lid, the air was filled with a mouthwatering symphony of scents—the rich aroma of herb-roasted chicken, the savory tang of rabbit stew, the sweet promise of honey and baked goods. Inside was a feast: golden chicken drumsticks and dumplings, fluffy scrambled eggs, glistening longganisa, a small pot of stew, and an assortnt of desserts from chocolate cupcakes to honey-glazed pancakes.
"Wow, it looks so good," I breathed, my mouth watering.
Ray hopped back into the wagon, the wood groaning slightly under his weight. "And it slls even better," he said, settling himself comfortably beside , his warmth a familiar comfort.
"Everyone, let’s eat," Ace said, his tone softer now as he took his place on my other side, his shoulder brushing mine.
We passed around the containers, each taking a lunchbox and sharing the different dishes family-style. The fairy imdiately zood over to a chocolate cupcake, his tiny hands latching onto the frosting. He began to eat with a focused intensity, getting smudges of chocolate on his cheeks.
He really does love sweets.
"Fairy," Ray began around a mouthful of fried dumpling, his curiosity undimd. "After all these years, why show yourself to us only now?"
The fairy didn’t even look up from his cupcake. "Because of Ovelia," he said, his voice slightly muffled by the cake. "She carries an aura... a unique essence. It replenishes my mana and makes feel powerful, like I was before my exile. Staying near her is... practical." He took another large bite of frosting. "And you all are less irritating than most."
"So you’re absorbing her aura," Ace said, his voice dangerously quiet. A low, visceral growl rumbled in his chest, a clear warning he was barely holding onto his anger. "Like a parasite."
The fairy pointed a tiny, sticky finger toward Ace. "Hey! Do not compare to a parasite!" he squeaked, indignant.
A wave of sympathy washed over . I knew all too well the heat of public sha, and despite his bravado, his embarrassnt was palpable. He looked so comically grumpy, like an offended kitten, but I felt only a pang of kinship.
Ace’s glare intensified, a silent command that made the fairy slowly lower his finger, his wings drooping slightly. "I am protecting her," the fairy muttered, his voice barely audible but clear in the quiet road. "In the ways that I can. In exchange for the sliver of aura I absorb. It is a fair trade." He defiantly took another bite of his cupcake, as if to emphasize his point.
"Lady Ovelia," Ann interjected, her gaze sharp and protective. "Has he hurt you? Do you feel weak or dizzy when he does this?" She spooned a bite of rice and rabbit stew into her mouth, watching intently.
I shook my head quickly, swallowing my own mouthful of food. "No, I don’t even feel any—"
Before I could finish, the fairy buzzed into the air. "Of course she doesn’t feel any of that!" he exclaid, hovering near the honey-glazed pancakes. "I would never harm my host. It’s a gentle, passive drawing, like a plant leaning toward the sun."
"Hey," Ann said, her voice flat. "I was not talking to you."
The fairy simply turned his back on her with a dismissive flick of his wings.
"Those drumsticks look exceptional," Ray said, his eyes on my lunchbox. When I smiled and offered it to him, he didn’t hesitate, taking one with a grateful nod. "Here," he said, dropping two plump pieces of longganisa onto my rice. "Can’t have you going hungry on my account."
"Thank you," I said happily, my heart warming at the gesture.
To my surprise, Ann then reached over and spooned a generous portion of her rabbit stew onto my rice. A mont later, Ace silently placed a slice of his herb-crusted steak beside it.
"Thank you, everyone," I said, my voice thick with emotion. "Please, feel free to take so scrambled egg or chicken if you’d like." They all smiled and nodded, the simple act of sharing food weaving our little family tighter together.
"Now," the fairy announced, rubbing his tiny, distended stomach. "I am full. It is ti for proper introductions." He looked at each of us in turn, his earlier bravado returning.
"Sure," Ace said, swallowing the last bite of a strawberry tart. "I’ve been waiting for this. Entertain us."
The fairy drew himself up to his full, diminutive height. "My nickna is Wind."
He paused, clearly expecting a reaction. I knew it—he really sounded like Wind. I glanced at the others. Ace looked unimpressed, Ann was unmoved, and Ray just smirked.
"That explains it," Ray said, wiping his mouth with a cloth napkin. "That’s why I couldn’t pinpoint your scent at Timberline Village. You were using your wind magic to carry your voice to us, separating it from your body."
"Just as you did with Ovelia’s shout in the garden," Ace added, his eyes sharp. "That’s how Ann and I found her just in ti. You manipulated the sound."
The fairy—Wind—looked montarily taken aback. "Both of you are more intelligent than I expected."
"Lady Firera," I asked ntally, taking a bite of the savory longganisa, "did you know about him all along?"
"Yes", her voice echoed, languid and unconcerned. "His presence was inconsequential to our goals. It was not essential information for you to have."
"A genius, but a blunt and grumpy fairy," Ann whispered under her breath, though in the small space, we all heard her clearly. She closed her lunchbox and picked up a cupcake.
"Tsk!" Wind clicked his tongue and crossed his arms again. "I am an elental fairy. I can influence nature’s forces—fire, water, earth, and air. However," he admitted, his shoulders slumping with a touch of sha, "my control is unstable. Only the wind obeys my command with perfect precision."
"So even a fairy has a weakness," Ace observed, reaching for a flask of water.
"Of course! Nobody is perfect, you know," Wind retorted defensively.
"Wind," I asked, curious, "is Fairyland real?"
"Fairyland?" He blinked, then let out a short laugh. "Oh, you an Elpha. Of course it exists. That is where I co from, after all." He said it with a fragile pride that seed on the verge of cracking.
Hearing that it’s real made happy; I thought it only existed in the picture books I read before.
"So why are you here, in our world?" Ace asked, his gaze intent.
I saw the change in Wind imdiately. The defensiveness lted away, replaced by a profound sadness that seed too heavy for his small fra. His glow dimd. "Because I did sothing... terribly wrong," he whispered, the words catching in his throat. "As punishnt, the Queen stripped of my true na and exiled from Elpha forever."
"That’s terrible..." I said softly, the last bite of my food suddenly feeling like ash in my mouth. I closed my lunchbox.
Ray mirrored my action, his expression grim. "Exile with a stripped na... That’s not just a punishnt. That’s a queen making a statent. She has erased you from her kingdom’s ledger. There is no path back." He spoke with the certainty of a knight who understood the finality of certain orders.
Ace’s question was quiet but relentless. "What did you do?"
I looked at Wind. The pain on his face was a mirror of my own from years past—the sa lost, cornered expression I wore whenever my non-biological mother in Timberline would demand answers I was too frightened to give.
Wind opened his mouth, but only a strained, broken sound ca out. "I... I—" He trembled, his wings drooping until their tips brushed the floor.
My heart ached for him. I couldn’t let them press him further. Before he could be forced to answer, I brought my hands together in a soft, decisive clap. All eyes turned to .
"Since you don’t have a true na anymore," I said, my voice gentle but firm, "how would you like to give you a new one?"
Wind’s head snapped up, his eyes wide with shock. "Wait!"
"’Wind’ is confusing," Ann agreed, nodding. "Are we speaking of the breeze, or of you?"
"I agree," Ray said, folding his arms. "A proper na would suit you better."
I leaned forward slightly, catching the fairy’s panicked gaze. "Since your nickna is Wind, how about... Gale?"
"It sounds... acceptable, but—!" he started, his voice rising in alarm.
I smiled, a genuine, hopeful smile. "Then it’s settled."
"DON’T—!" he shouted, his voice a raw, desperate plea.
But it was too late. "Now your na is Gale," I said, the words leaving my lips with a sense of finality.
The effect was instantaneous and terrifying.
Wind—Gale—suddenly glowed with a blinding, prismatic light, as if a thousand fractured crystals had ignited within him. He let out a sharp, agonized cry, his small body convulsing. Out of the brilliant light, thick chains of shimring, liquid silver materialized from his chest. They snaked through the air with a sound like ringing cold tal, moving with a purpose that was both beautiful and horrifying. Before anyone could react, the chains wrapped themselves tightly around my wrists, the tal cool and strangely weightless against my skin.
The world around warped. The sounds of the forest, the wagon, the others—everything slowed to a deep, distorted drone. I saw Ace’s face, a mask of stark fear, his hand reaching for in heartbreakingly slow motion. I saw Ray’s hands shift, his claws extending like polished daggers. I saw Ann already holding her blade, her body coiled to spring toward Gale. Their movents were sluggish, as if trapped in thick honey.
What have I done? The thought scread in my mind, a silent, helpless cry as the magical chains bound to the writhing, screaming fairy.
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