Chapter Forty-Seven: The Fae and the Future

Alora woke in the early hours to the faint sound of laughter—a high, tinkling sound that didn't belong to any human voice. Her elven ears twitched as she sat up, scanning the dimly lit room.

"Christopher," she whispered, nudging him awake.

The World-Shaman groaned, burying his face in the pillow. "It's your turn."

"Christopher," Alora hissed, her tone urgent. "Something's in the room."

He sat up, groggy but alert, his hand instinctively reaching for a reality-bending charm on the nightstand. "What are you on about?"

She pointed toward Elusona's crib, where faint, glowing figures flitted around the baby. They were tiny, no larger than a hand, with translucent wings and radiant, otherworldly auras.

Christopher blinked, then rubbed his eyes. "Bloody hell. Are those...?"

"Fae," Alora breathed, her voice tinged with both awe and concern.

The tiny creatures were busy tending to Elusona—one draped a blanket over her, while another brought a droplet of dew on a petal to her lips. A third waved its hands, and the air filled with a soft, soothing lullaby.

Alora crouched beside the crib, her shadow magic curling protectively around her as she observed the scene. "She's summoning them. I don't know how, but she's calling to the fae."

Christopher lit a cigarette, taking a long drag as he inspected the ethereal visitors. "She's not bending reality around her. Those are actual fae creatures."

Alora glanced at him, her expression a mix of amazement and worry. "What does it mean? How can she do this?"

Christopher exhaled a plume of smoke, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "Means she's got a gift—something unique. Maybe it's from you. Maybe it's from the future. Either way, she's going to need protection."

Alora reached into the crib, gently stroking Elusona's hair. The baby cooed, reaching for her mother's hand as the fae creatures hovered close.

"She's special," Alora murmured. "But this power... it's dangerous. If anyone finds out—"

"They won't," Christopher interrupted, his tone firm. "Not until she's ready. We keep this between us for now."

While Christopher and Alora grappled with Elusona's burgeoning powers, Arthur prepared for a momentous event.

The great hall of Camelot buzzed with tension as warlords from across Britain filed in. They came reluctantly, drawn by the rumours of Arthur's power and the threat of an alien invasion.

Arthur stood at the head of the room, Excalibur gleaming at his side. His presence commanded attention, and the room fell silent as he raised his hand.

"Thank you for coming," he began, his voice steady and clear. "We face a threat unlike any in our history. An alien race is coming to conquer our world, to destroy our way of life. If we do not stand together, we will fall apart."

The warlords exchanged uneasy glances, their expressions ranging from scepticism to outright defiance.

"What's this got to do with us?" one of them growled. "You're the king. Deal with it."

Arthur met his gaze, unflinching. "I cannot do this alone. This war will require every resource, every soldier, and every ounce of strength we can muster. I am offering you a choice: join my New United Kingdom peacefully, or face both the aliens and the united might of Camelot."

The room erupted into murmurs, some warlords expressing outrage, others considering the proposition.

One of the more vocal warlords, a burly man named Harlan, stepped forward. "You expect us to bow to you just because you wave a fancy sword around? Some of us have been running things just fine without a king."

Arthur's gaze hardened, his voice steady but edged with steel. "This is not about bowing. It's about survival. If you fight me, you divide our strength. If you divide our strength, we all lose."

Harlan sneered. "And if we don't fight you? What do we get in return?"

Arthur stepped closer, his presence filling the room. "You get the chance to save your people. To rebuild this land into something greater than it has ever been. And you get the protection of Camelot's strength."

The room fell silent again, the weight of Arthur's words sinking in.

By the end of the gathering, several warlords agreed to join Arthur's cause, their signatures sealing a fragile alliance. Others left, vowing to resist.

As the hall emptied, Arthur turned to his closest allies. Alora and Christopher had joined him, Elusona tucked safely in a makeshift sling on Alora's chest.

"Do you think they'll keep their word?" Alora asked.

Arthur's expression was thoughtful. "Some will. Others will test our resolve. But this is the first step toward unity."

Christopher smirked, lighting another cigarette. "You've got a way with words, mate. Let's hope the aliens are as impressed as they are."

As the team prepared for the next phase of their mission, Alora and Christopher returned to their quarters, Elusona giggling softly in her crib. The fae creatures lingered, their presence a constant reminder of the child's extraordinary destiny.

"She's going to change the world," Alora said softly, brushing a strand of hair from Elusona's forehead.

Christopher leaned against the wall, his cigarette glowing faintly. "Let's just hope it's for the better."

Alora smiled, her gaze steady. "It will be. Because we'll make sure of it."

Christopher nodded, his grin softening. "Yeah. Together."