Chapter 119: Chaos in the Glade

Adams Weasley was no longer buying the idea of waiting for the fairies. He suspected something wasn't right.. "You had better not be playing games with me". He yelled. Adam Weasley was standing right at the forefront of the elven force; his eyes were an unnervingly piercing blue, narrowed now in impatience. Viktor and Alfonso knelt, half-clearing, their hands bound and bruised, flanked by Adam's soldiers. Several hours had passed since the fairies quarreled among themselves about what to do with their guests who brought. "You had your chance, fairy council," Adam yelled, his voice cold, commanding. "Release the prisoners, or take the wrath of my blades." In a moment, he was joined by the head of the fairy council, Eldarion. His wings of pure silver shone faintly in the dying light; with authority, he raised his staff. "We are not your enemies, Adam Weasley. Do not make this bloodshed." Adam smiled wryly and stepped closer, taking his sweet time. "You know there's bloodshed when you're in my way. All that matters now is justice—and those prisoners are ours." The fairies whispered among themselves; their soft voices rose in a crescendo. Then one of the younger, braver fairies-her bravery fired by anger-suddenly stepped forward. "We will not be bullied!" she shouted, her hands ablaze with golden light. Before anyone could check her, she hurled an arc of magic at Adam. The attack hit his armor, harmlessly sparkling off its enchanted surface. Adam's face darkened. "You dare? "he hissed, his sword flashing out. In one smooth motion he cut the air, a wave of energy washing over and knocking the little fairy backward. It was the breaking point. Chaos descended as the elves surged forward, their swords flashing in the fading sunlight. The fairies responded with flurries of magic, glowing, gold and silver flashes lighting the battlefield in irregular bursts. Viktor and Alfonso were in the middle of this chao. Both ducked and dodged whirring steel and flying spells around them. "Stay down!" Viktor snarled, jerking Alfonso from a stray blast of fairy energy. "We can't just sit here and take it!" Alfonso yelled back, his head darting to either side of the opening. "We gotta keep moving!" With his staff clutched in his hand, Eldarion fought bravely, trying to protect the people of his folk. But the elves were relentless, their disciplined ranks quickly overwhelming the fairies' magic. "Retreat!" Eldarion finally cried out, his voice ringing across the glade. "Save yourselves!" The fey hesitated, torn by loyalty and survival. A few of them whirled and ran, dashing into the forest in bright flashes of colour as their wings swept them out of sight into gloom. The rest stood firm to hold the foe while their master was safe. A fairy guard whisked before Viktor and Alfonso, sweeping the slashes across their bindings away with a single wide swish of her sword. "Come on," she shouted. "Follow me, if you want to survive!"   Viktor resisted, his eyes running across the panorama of battle. "And what about the rest?"   "No time for them!" growling, the guard tugged at his wrist. "Keep moving!"   Eldarion led a host of survivors through thick woods, closely pursued by Viktor and Alfonso, who were raggedly out of breath. The tussle fell further and further behind until finally only the threatening silences of deep woods surrounded them. "Where to?" Alfonso heaved, trying to keep up. "Not far from here, there is a secret passage," replied Eldarion. "Leading into an ancient sanctuary. That's where we shall regroup." They quickened their pace, every step urgent yet cautionary. The glow from the wings began to fade as fairies dissolved into the shadows, not wanting to waste any magic. Before this, Adam had stood amidst his wreckage in the center of this clearing where the burning fir curled the smoke up to the night sky in graceful spirals, the home and all the beautiful fairy village plunged together into utter ruin, its delicate edifice in ashes. Adam surveyed the scene with cold satisfaction. 'Search every corner," he ordered, his voice carrying over the crackling flames. 'Find the prisoners. Find the council. Leave no one alive." One of his lieutenants approached, bowing slightly. 'Some of the fairies escaped, my lord. We're tracking them now." Adam's jaw tightened. 'Do not return until you've captured them—or killed them." Meanwhile, Viktor, Alfonso, and the rest of the fairies ran towards the hideaway tunnel-a small passage completely screened by dense ivy and overgrown shrubbery. Down the dark passage, Eldarion led. From his staff, a slight glow was emanating. This gave light to their route. "This way," he said; his voice was smooth and steady, but he was very tired. It opened into a small cave whose walls were lined with crystalline formations. They flung themselves onto the stone floor, battered and breathless. "We'll rest here for now," Eldarion said wearily, sinking to sit on the ground. "But we can't stay long. The elves will come." Viktor leaned against the cavern wall, a scowl twisting his face. "It's not over. Adam won't rest until he's hunted every last one of us." Eldarion nodded solemnly. "I know. Now, however, is the time we must reorganize. Our folk are scattered. Our home is in shambles. We shall need time to recover." Ever the optimist, even Alfonso could manage a weak grin. "We're alive. That's something at least, no? Viktor said nothing; his mind had already plunged deep into concocting strategies, searching for a way to turn this around. While the rest all descended into awkward silence, a small fairy skipped up to Viktor and asked him outright, chewing her lip for a moment: "Why fight so hard for this Alpha Lleus? What is he worth this suffering? Viktor finally turned to her then, his eyes thick with fatigue and yet bright, afire with resolution. "Because he is more than a leader-he is hope to every soul which has ever been oppressed, betrayed, or broken. We let him die, and we are not just losing a man, but we will be losing the future for which we fight." The fairy inclined her head once to veil her face all but reflexively. "Perhaps. Hope is worth fighting for." The fairies had lost their home, Viktor and Alfonso no closer to getting the spider rose flower, there was a flicker of hope. So long as they breathed, there was yet a chance, slender, fragile, of turning the tide.   And for Viktor, that was enough.