I ran, faster than I ever had before.
Behind me, arrows hissed through the air. I didn't need to glance back to know who was chasing me. The entire Love Fairy Kingdom was out for my blood. Every guard. Every fairy.
They were hunting me down like prey.
I wasn't about to stick around to find out what those arrows could do. The wind howled in my ears, forcing me to duck, narrowly avoiding the whistling projectiles. My chest tightened with each breath. Adrenaline surged, pushing me to move faster, to stay ahead of the chaos.
I still had enough energy to conjure orbs. With a flick of my wrist, I summoned them, watching their delicate shimmer in the air. But they fizzled out almost immediately, no more than faint sparks before falling to the ground.
One or two guards collapsed, lost in the charms of the flowers and grass near the kingdom's entrance, distracted long enough for me to gain some distance. But it wasn't enough. I needed more—something that would stop them cold. Something that would break them.
I burst through the gates, feet slipping across the slick grass, my heart pounding against my ribs. The orbs crackled weakly, flickering and dying, leaving me with nothing. My hands shook with exhaustion. No red mist to my aid. Had I really burned through all my power?
This wasn't the time to feel sorry for myself.
I kept running, but with every step, my body seemed heavier. My breath came in ragged gasps, the weight of fatigue dragging me down. The world felt like it was collapsing around me, as though the ground itself might swallow me whole.
And, of course, I tripped. Right into him.
The damn Dark Fairy.
He was standing there, waiting for me. No hesitation. No fear. Like he'd been expecting this. Like he'd planned it. Great. Just great.
The impact sent us both tumbling to the ground. I landed on top of him with a loud thud—he seemed more surprised than hurt.
"Move over," I snapped, struggling to push myself off him.
His piercing grey eyes locked onto mine—chilling like the coldest winter. There was no spark of humanity behind them. Just empty darkness, staring me down with unsettling calm. He didn't flinch, didn't move—like he was watching a show he had no interest in interrupting.
I scrambled, my heart racing, and finally shoved myself off him. His gaze didn't leave me. The air around him seemed to shift, darker, colder—like shadows had come to life at his command. The faintest chill slithered up my spine.
"Why are they after you?" he asked, his voice now quieter, almost like a whisper in a room filled with secrets.
His voice was low, but it cut through me like a knife. I didn't owe him an explanation. Not now. Not ever.
But I could feel his presence—strong, suffocating. As if the ground beneath me was shifting, responding to his stillness.
I pressed on, ignoring him as best as I could. My power was waning. My body was aching. The exhaustion was suffocating, like I was drowning in it. But there were bigger things at play—things I didn't have time to figure out. The longer I moved, the more I felt the weight of fatigue pulling me down.
And all the while, he just stood there. Watching. Waiting. His stillness a promise that he wasn't just another threat. He was something much darker.