LIGHT IN THE FOREST, DARKNESS IN THE THRONE ROOM

Vines, thick as pythons, constrict their limbs, a silent, green embrace that holds them fast amidst a grove of walking trees.

Bark groans, like old men shifting in their sleep, as three of the animated sentinels stand motionless, their leafy limbs casting long shadows.

Roots, gnarled fingers of the earth, claw out from the bare, sandy ground, anchoring the tree against which they are bound. They try to look around in their restrained state, vision spreading forward to catch a good glimpse of this world.

Winged oddities flit through the air, their forms defying earthly logic alongside fairies walking on glowing specks of dust.

Towers of living wood pierce the sky, their heights dwarfing any timber they've ever witnessed, with carved openings that resemble windows and rough-hewn doors embedded in their trunks, hinting at interiors.

Daylight spills through the canopy, brighter here than the shadowed woods of their chase, illuminating clusters of blue flowers that pulse with an inner luminescence, clinging to every surface.

"From now on, I say I should make the plans. Kane, my friend, we are about to be carrot soup because of you", Emmet says, vines leaving angry red welts on the pristine white of his shirt as he strains against them.

"For a gladiator you complain too much," Braga says.

"I am a thief and all we do is complain. That's how you get into the industry," the half-elf retorts, a wry twist to his lips.

A rustle of leaves announces their approach, Nixie and a few others.

A young man, his short red hair a vibrant shock against his pale skin dotted with freckles, drifts towards them on a shimmering cloud of golden dust.

He hovers at eye level, his casual blue and black trousers oddly out of place amidst the fantastical setting.

"Who sent you, poachers? Who do you work for?", the fairy questions, his eyes stare intensely at Braga.

"We are not poachers," Emilia counters, her voice steady despite their predicament, forcing the fairy's intense stare away from the silent giant.

"We are on a quest for the gods. A divine quest," she says while Braga merely observes from his elevated vantage point, his expression unreadable.

The fairy's green eyes, sharp and assessing, trace the subtle energies radiating from Emilia, "What is this magic? It feels a bit familiar," he snaps his fingers.

Emilia's skin of white begins to crack, the surface flaking away to reveal a deep, obsidian hue beneath.

Gasps ripple through their captors, who instinctively recoil, "A dark elf," the red-haired fairy breathes, his eyes widening in surprise.

"You must be from Eden, veiled realm of Nimwei. I am Caspian Finn. In the absence of the leader I am leader of this realm", he introduces himself.

He snaps his fingers again and the vines loosen and fall off Emilia's body. Emmet who is on the other side of the tree cannot see what is happening,

Another snap of his fingers and the constricting vines slacken, falling away from Emilia's exposed form.

Emmet, still bound on the far side of the tree, strains to see.

"What is going on?", he blabs, "Shut up," Kane fires, his own gaze fixed on the unfolding scene.

"What brings a daughter of Eden to Verlaine?" Caspian asks, his gaze unwavering on Emilia.

"We are on a journey of the gods. My home was destroyed and my people slaughtered.

Now I travel with the chosen one, Kane Skyborn", she turns, her gaze resting on the silver haired man.

Caspian drifts closer, his eyes flickering nervously to Braga before returning to Emilia.

He lowers his voice to a near whisper, "And the giant?".

"He is our companion, he will bring you no harm. None of us will," she assures him.

"Skyborn?" Nixie's voice, sharp with disbelief, cuts through the air from behind Caspian's entourage.

"Yes".

A collective gasp ripples through the assembled fairies, followed by a hushed murmur.

"It cannot be, a Skyborn has not been seen in a very long time," Caspian says as he circles Kane slowly.

He observes his features, rubbing his hand through his silver hair, peering into the depths of his blue eyes, "I refuse to believe".

"I am a priestess of the moon goddess, Shiroi. I have no reason to lie about my mission or his identity", Emilia declares.

"I believe her. This man saved me," Nixie speaks up, her gaze softening as she looks at Kane.

"He didn't exactly do it alone. Excuse me, I was there too," Emmet calls out, his voice laced with mock offence.

"Why don't your leader come and break words with me,"

"The ugly one is called Emmet," she says.

Kane and Braga exchange a brief, silent chuckle.

"Fuck you guys," the half-elf spits.

Caspian claps his hands together and the vines fall away. He spreads his arms wide, a welcoming smile gracing his features.

"Welcome, travellers, to the hidden realm of High Town, to the Forest of Light, Nirvana".

The walking trees creak and shift, stepping back to create a wider space.

Emmet dusts off his stained shirt.

"Kane…" he says pointedly, "…learn from Emilia" "You are like an old grumpy wife", Kane retorts, a genuine smile finally breaking through his stoicism, spreading laughter amongst the surrounding fairies.

MEANWHILE

Gwendolyn grinds her teeth against each other and thin claws stick out of her fingers. Her eyes burn with a stark, crimson light.

Growls escape her lips like a wild beast and her black hair, unbound, a wild storm around her shoulders.

"We clearly have all the proof we need. This is clearly an act of war," Tanix says, pointing his finger at the animalistic wench.

"My Queen, please…", Rowan starts to speak, stepping cautiously towards her.

Only to be met with a brutal backhanded slap that sends him sprawling across the polished floor.

Gwendolyn's crimson gaze returns to the bleeding sorcerer, the blood still slick on her fingers. She lunges and he braces himself.

"Stop!", Alaric's voice rings through the chamber as he lands between them, a surge of golden light erupting from him, throwing the queen reeling backward while Tanix instinctively throws up a shimmering shield.

The prince is on one knee with a golden sword in his hand.

He rises, turning to Tanix, "Forgive this… rudeness. Please, my men will show you to your quarters. But first, you must see our physician.

We shall resume this discussion tomorrow,".

He glances at the guards and they quickly respond to his orders, directing the Rolandians out of the court.

"Leave us!", Gwendolyn roar echoes through the court, the remaining courtiers departing with hurried, fearful steps, Rowan dragging himself along with them.

The elf limps his way out of the court behind the rest of the subjects.

"Why did you do that?", she yells and he glares at her.

"Why? You just gave them every reason to believe that we intended to attack Rolandia! Your actions could have just brought war to our doorstep," Alaric shouts back.

"Your father would not cower before them as you do," "You know nothing of my father," Alaric fires back.

"While you slept for a decade, I watched and learned the ways of the court. He groomed me to know when to stand firm and when to seek peace. Your actions today have validated their accusations,".

"You believe him?", she hisses, a violent swipe of her hand sending chairs skittering across the room.

Black veins begin to pulse on her neck, mirroring the tightening grip on Alaric's sword hilt. The chandelier lights glint off the intricate gold of her dress, but more so off the blade once wielded by her husband.

"You give me little reason not to," he says.

Brows furrowed, he stares into her eyes, unable to recognise the woman before him.

"I am the queen and I say he lies," she stamps her foot on the ground and the walls tremble under the force.

Alaric watches as the chandeliers sway, their crystal pendants chiming a discordant melody.

"Explain to me then. How is it you can do this? You have been hiding things from me since you returned, you have become a suspect before my eyes", he walks forward.

"You should be more concerned with your insolence before your queen," she says, advancing on him.

He stands, disgust written in his gaze, "You are not the mother I once knew," he says and turns away.

"Where are you going?", the queen snarls, "Away from you,".

Gwendolyn lunges and Alaric turns sharply, throwing the blade towards her. She catches it, a searing cry ripping from her throat as the hilt burns her hand.

The sword clatters to the floor.

Alaric retrieves it, his gaze fixed on his mother's scorched palm, her eyes wide in shock, her brows raised in disbelief.

""Even the royal relic of our family denies your touch mother. You are not worthy to be queen".

HALFDAN

SOMEWHERE IN VERLAINE

Lady Sylvia and a procession of elders navigate the dense undergrowth, the thick bushes parting as she advances, the path narrowing before abruptly opening into a hidden settlement nestled amongst colossal trees, their branches forming a leafy canopy overhead.

Her black shoes sink slightly into the damp earth, the air thick with the mingled scents of burning coal and roasting meat.

Werewolves and a few strange monsters walk around, carrying wood and pickaxes.

Upon seeing her, many bow and greet as she walks, a practiced smile gracing her lips as she offers a curt nod in return.

Camps and makeshift tents dot the area, but she walks with purpose towards the largest tent, her companions melting into the bustling crowd.

Inside, a simple table and two chairs occupy the centre, a rough bedroll to one side.

Her gaze falls upon a discarded pair of tattered trousers in the bed, and her nostrils flare, detecting the unmistakable metallic tang of blood.

Sharp enough to prickle her nostrils, overlaid with a deeper, earthier scents that speak of spilled life.

She turns just as the tent curtains sway open and a tall man steps in.

"Mother," "Fangor. Why do I smell blood in here?", she asks, staring through eyes that seem closed.

"I went into the tunnels. I found a strange group of people, possibly adventurers from Rolandia. They found our tunnel," he says calmly and the old woman suddenly opens her eyes widely, its yellow colours revealing themselves.

"Tell me you finished them off," "I couldn't. I was summoned back, my attention was needed" "You are only to be summoned when it is important" "It was, a group of goblins were making their way towards our territory. If I had not arrived our plans would have been discovered," Fangor says.

"Grimgut's men. He investigates in secret. The fool will find nothing," "Don't worry, I have some of the men scouting Verlaine for the adventurers. We will get them," he says.

Fangor walks to the side of the bed, retrieving a waterskin, he gulps from it and swallows the contents before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"So what brings you here mother?", he pulls off his brown leather jacket and tosses it onto the bed, "There has been a development," she says and pulls out a chair to sit.

"Tanix and a Rolandian emissary arrived the courtroom today to discuss matters concerning the divine relic," she says and watches Fangor cough hard.

"What? How did they know about it?" "Apparently, the godspark appeared in Rolandia but was shattered".

"It can't be. We built our tunnels to Rolandia so when the time was right and they had it we would take it from them. Bloodhowl revealed it so. Why has it changed?", he throws the clothes from his bed and raises his voice.

"We have already started our invasion," he snarls.

"Do not worry, as fate will have it, I suspect that the queen's recent resurrection was no mistake. I believe she has a piece of the godspark.

My son, the gods have brought it to us. In the midst of the chaos that comes, we shall rip it from her corpse".