Faerie Queen, Faerie Knight

     “Queen Fyora has been freed!”

     A corrupted light faerie hissed at the sound of Fyora’s name and lunged toward her, but Aethia was quicker, striking down her opponent with an almost perfect arc of her Fire and Ice Blades. The Battle Faerie felt something else well up within her in addition to the thrill of battle and her own brand of magic…it was as if her heart had guided her swords.

     “Long live Queen Fyora!” a dark faerie cried. Several other faeries and Neopians wearing Faerieland’s livery took up the chant as they rushed forward to meet the soldiers in black, gold, and red armour emblazoned with Draik wings.

     The fighting had started up again, but a pink Draik managed to pierce the hordes to meet the Battle Faerie, who was looking up again at the tower. The light was beginning to ebb, but it continued to shine as though confirming the queen’s return for those who had not seen it when it first blazed to life.

     “If Her Majesty is free,” the Draik said, “shouldn’t you be flying up to the tower to meet her? To help her retake her throne?”

     Aethia paused. She glanced at her soldiers putting their enemies to flight, and then at the palace.

     “Terask may be defeated, but his armies continue to fight. I must stay here and clean up what is left of his forces, Lieutenant Rayla. I have faith in our queen’s power now that she has returned.”

     “You say the usurper is defeated…but if I may, Commander, why do you look sad?”

     “What?” Aethia blinked and immediately rearranged her expression into what she hoped was a passable smile. “No, no, it’s just…there is still much work to do, Lieutenant. Now come, those Dimensional Faeries must not escape.”

     * * *

     Of course, as with any war, it was always the cleanup that was the most difficult. Faerie Palace bared its scars and wounds for all to see as Aethia entered through its broken doors. Cracks and ashen stains and dismantled tiles littered the floor, the walls were torn in various places, and the posts were scratched and chipped and burnt. Here and there were swords cloven in half, shields that had seen better days, and arrows, so many arrows, stuck into the brick and plaster or strewn every which way. A number of prisoners – all bearing Terask’s colours and mark – were chained and led down a staircase by a group of Faerieland guards.

     Neopians and faeries alike saluted as Aethia passed them by. One fire faerie in Faerieland livery looked up from where she had been allowing a water faerie to heal her side.

     “Commander Aethia!”

     “Vitrini, what happened?”

     “Some of the Wingshadows continue to resist. Kiela in particular…” Vitrini scowled. “She has fled, but my squad is pursuing her to the north.”

     “We’ll find that dark faerie soon enough,” Aethia assured her. “She can no longer hide behind her lord. Not anymore.”

     Lilyana spoke while her hands glowed a soft cerulean over Vitrini’s waist. “You can leave that to your squad, Vitrini, because you’ll need to rest before you can leave again. Commander, if I may…the queen has been looking for you.”

     Aethia had been about to smile, but the corners of her mouth turned down – not quite a frown, but certainly not a smile.

     “When Faerieland can truly settle down and rebuild, then I shall present myself to her.”

     “Surely you can spare the time to see her,” Vitrini pointed out.

     “No. I’m afraid not.”

     “Why not?”

     All three faeries craned their necks to find a dark faerie with cropped amethyst hair standing next to them; they had not noticed her approach at all.

     “Lyra?” Aethia blinked. “When did you get here? If there’s anyone Queen Fyora really needs by her side now – “

     “It is you, Commander,” Lyra finished promptly. “She has sent me to find you.”

     Aethia shook her head. “Vitrini, Lilyana, Lyra…I must go.” She turned on her heel and strode quickly away. Lyra bit her lip before following her toward the doors of Faerie Palace.

     “Commander, wait, please! You must tell me why you can’t see the queen. I need an answer to take back to her!”

     The Battle Faerie paused, already hovering over the clouds and the pink pavement, wings beating with a deliberate tempo. Glancing over her shoulder, she met Lyra’s eyes.

     “There’s much work to be done after everything Terask has done.”

     * * *

     All things considered, she was correct. When Aethia arrived at the village of Cirrus, she saw many houses, shops and other structures broken, charred, and dismantled in various ways. Many soldiers she recognized were patrolling the area, not only watching for the remnants of Terask’s minions but also for any monsters and rogues who lurked in the Underclouds. After cursory greetings were exchanged, Aethia assigned herself to one of the outposts looking out over the heavy grey clouds that were Faerieland’s equivalent of an untamed, unknown wilderness.

     There was much chatter about Fyora’s return and the adventurers who had made it possible, not to mention possible celebrations back at Faerie Palace once the repairs were completed, but instead of lifting her heart, these only served to make it heavy.

     “The Wingshadow Prophecy, it really came true!” a blue Shoyru said as he passed by, chatting animatedly with an earth faerie. “I knew the queen would never let that huge Draik win! Er, never mind that it took a while…”

     “Wasn’t that the prophecy that foretold a Blumaroo from Meridell being the one to tip the scales, Odail? Something like that,” the earth faerie put in, scratching her head. “My clan isn’t like the Wingshadows with all their predictions and whatnot, it all usually goes over my head.”

     “I met those travellers when they stopped here at Cirrus, you know,” Odail bragged. “You never would’ve guessed they’d be the ones to take down Terask.”

     Aethia’s brow deepened as she tried to tune out that conversation, waiting for the Shoyru and the faerie to be out of earshot. She leaned against the outpost booth, sighing.

     I always said we shouldn’t depend on prophecies. But this one…it came true. To the letter. It had no need of me, to predict Terask’s downfall.

     It was hard to tell from the Underclouds when the sun was setting, but there was a certain looming dimness in the shadows that told her evening would come soon. There were shafts of red and orange and pink light that managed to pierce through the clouds.

     Aethia could have sworn that the pink light was beginning to overwhelm the reds and the oranges. And instead of paving the way for the blues and purples of twilight, the pink was tinged with lavender.

     A pit formed in her stomach, and it grew larger when she heard a voice.

     “Aethia. I am summoning you to Faerie Palace.”

     Gripping the outpost as though it were a lifeline, the Battle Faerie shook her head. “No, Your Majesty, please…I’m not worthy…”

     Aethia wanted to run, but something rooted her to the spot. But it was more than that. Deep down, she had hoped that this would happen.

     “Please, Aethia. My dearest friend.”

     She closed her eyes once, and when she opened them again, she stood in the throne room of Faerie Palace. Though the pillars, the floors and the walls still looked like they could use a touch from Lilyana, no one was working on them.

     There was only one being in the entire throne room, and she was walking toward the Battle Faerie with a relieved smile on her face that could not be marred by the weariness in her eyes.

     Aethia looked away.

     “What’s wrong? You and your army have won a great victory for Faerieland,” said Fyora, frowning in worry. “Is something bothering you?”

     “No, Highness. I’m just…the recovery of Faerieland will take much time, and I won’t allow anyone from Terask’s ranks to take it from us again.”

     “That isn’t the only thing you’re worried about.”

     “Why did you bring me here?” Aethia asked quietly.

     “To thank you for everything you’ve done.” Fyora raised a hand toward Aethia – to shake Aethia’s hand, or to place it on Aethia’s shoulder, it was unclear.

     “Did I really do anything?” Aethia gritted her teeth, a pained expression on her face. “The Wingshadow Prophecy never mentioned me. It chose another, who would set the stage for Terask’s defeat. It was he, and his friends, who freed you. Weren’t they the first ones you saw, when you finally awoke from that spell.”

     Fyora lowered her hand.

     “Is that what you think?”

     “I…I couldn’t protect you, the day Terask invaded our queendom,” said Aethia, her voice wavering. “I was overwhelmed. I couldn’t come to save you, and underestimated our enemy. The lengths he was willing to go…and for a long time, we tried to fight our way to Faerie Palace, only to fail, each and every time, until Rohane and the others opened up a path for us at last. I…I heard, that you offered them positions within your guard.”

     “They all refused.” The Faerie Queen chuckled softly. “I cannot blame them; they have been away from their home for too long.”

     “They did?”

     Fyora leaned toward Aethia. “But never mind that. Aethia, you did everything you could. Even I did not foresee Terask’s descent into the darkest magic arts. The Wingshadow Prophecy may have foretold all this, but it could never have been fulfilled without your help. Without everyone’s help.”

     “I wasn’t the one who saved you!” Aethia cried, blinking back tears. “I lived each day, knowing that I couldn’t protect you from Terask! I lived each day, without seeing you, or hearing you! I didn’t know if I could face you again, if I would ever face you again! My greatest failure as the Battle Faerie…”

     “No. You did not fail. You never did, and I’m surprised that you, the Battle Faerie, did not see the part that you played in all this. An indispensable part.” Her fingers brushed Aethia’s cheek ever so delicately. “Prophecy or no, all your efforts were never in vain. You led your armies in every battle, and I heard that you helped train the adventurers who would find me.” Fyora smiled gently and reached out to squeeze Aethia’s hand. “You have served me well, just as I thought you would.”

     Aethia gasped as Fyora opened her arms and embraced her tightly.

     “Perhaps…did you miss me?”

     “No…” Aethia’s voice caught in her throat. “No, your Majesty, it isn’t…”

     Fyora shook her head and laughed – a dignified sound like pure wind chimes. “We have known each other for a long time. Years, upon years, upon years. You cannot hide anything from me.”

     “I suppose…” The Battle Faerie awkwardly returned the embrace, resting her head on Fyora’s shoulder. “We’ve known each other for millennia, haven’t we?”

     “And not once, in all those millennia, have you failed me. Remember that. And remember that I cannot stand to see you like this, on a day when we should be glad that Faerieland is free,” Fyora broke away and gazed fondly at Aethia. “I want us to be able to celebrate together. So, thank you.” She kissed Aethia’s cheek gently.

     “Your Majesty…” Once again, Aethia felt as though she had been frozen to this spot – perhaps, for several millennia more. Then, she took a deep breath and tried to smile. “Thank you. That means…very much to me. Thank you for reminding me…that every soldier, every medic, every bystander…has a role to play.”

     “You played your role perfectly, Aethia. I couldn’t ask for more, from my brave faerie knight.”

     The End.