Chapter 1 - The Call of the Arena

The transition was a shock to the senses. The familiar square of Cumealtinho, with the soft murmur of elves and the bubbling of the fountain, disappeared in an instant, replaced by a world of stunning beauty and latent danger. Akane, of the Royal Family of Luxflutuante, an Elf of Illumination, blinked, her sparkling blue eyes adjusting to the vibrant light of the fairy realm. Her long silver hair, almost white under the sun filtered through the trees, swayed slightly with the movement. The fair skin, typical of her Nordic lineage, contrasted with the vibrant tones of the new world. Despite her delicate features, there was a stubbornness in her chin, a persistence in her gaze, that denounced the princess raised in the palace, somewhat naive about the harshness of the world, but determined to protect what was hers.

Ancient trees, with emerald green canopies so intense they seemed to glow, rose towards the sky, their intricate branches forming a living canopy. Exotic flowers, of colors and shapes she had never imagined, bloomed in profusion, exuding a sweet, almost cloying perfume that permeated the hot, humid air. A magical energy pulsed in the environment, visible as a slight distortion in the air, making Akane's thin, sensitive skin tingle. The slender, thin elf was not used to so much. The fairy dimension was intense.

"Fairy Dimension…" Eryndora, the youngest of the group, whispered, a mixture of wonder and apprehension in her voice. Her green eyes, matching her moss-colored hair, normally full of vibrant curiosity, were now wide, reflecting the greenish light of the forest.

"Wow! Look at these colossal trees, they're bigger than the ones in Thyrenaela, my hometown." The small forest elf, only 1.50m tall, seemed even smaller under the giant trees. Akane placed a comforting hand on the elf's shoulder, feeling the tension in her muscles. Eryndora was sweet and gentle, perhaps a little too delicate for such a dangerous world.

Aela, the third elf in the group, was at her side. A half-elf, daughter of an elf and a human, she was an imposing figure at 1.80m tall. Her short red hair framed a face with classic features, marked by an austere beauty, accentuated by her grayish skin tone.

"This place is too colorful for me." Her gray eyes, sharp and vigilant, scanned the surroundings. Her ears, although pointed, were smaller than Akane's.

"Remember our objective," she said, her voice low and melodious, but firm. "The Crown of Luxflutuante. Don't be distracted by the beauty of this place."

Aela was the agile and astute warrior of the group.

"Relax Aela, you'll intimidate the fairies with your beauty and strength," Daniel said with a teasing smile. Aela blushed slightly, looking away and fiddling with her short hair, a rare glimpse of the shyness she usually hid well, especially when confronted with direct compliments or embarrassing situations.

And then there was him. Daniel. The human. An unlikely companion for three elves of such distinct origins, but a strong bond had been forged between the four through shared adventures and overcome challenges. They formed a unique quartet, an alliance based on mutual trust and intense experiences.

Akane felt his hand brush hers briefly as they walked, a casual contact, perhaps accidental on the narrow path, but one that made her conscious of his presence beside her. Daniel was kind and attentive to all of them, but also stubborn and reckless, an impulsive hardhead. His natural charm, a mixture of boldness and sometimes roguish humor, was often put to the test by the elves' willpower, who, despite the affection and loyalty they felt for him, knew how to put limits on his impulsiveness.

Daniel was tense, his senses heightened. His brown eyes, normally warm and gentle, were narrowed, assessing every detail of the environment. He was not fooled by the stunning beauty of the Fairy Realm. He felt the danger, the threat hidden beneath the enchanting surface.

"Something is wrong," he murmured, his hand instinctively going to the hilt of his sword. "I feel a chill... as if something were watching us."

Akane agreed silently. A strange, almost predatory energy hung in the air. And the fairies... they were what disturbed her the most. Winged creatures, with delicate and ethereal faces, floated among the trees. Their flowing dresses seemed to be made of petals, and their hair shone like gold and silver threads. But when they smiled… gods. Their teeth were pointed and sharp like a shark's, a grotesque contrast to their angelic appearance.

And their eyes… some shone with an almost childlike curiosity, but others… contained a cold, hungry glint, a glint that made Akane shiver and instinctively squeeze Eryndora's hand, who huddled closer, seeking protection in the presence of her more experienced friend.

They were guided by a winding path that snaked through the lush forest. The silence, broken only by the singing of exotic birds and the rustling of leaves, was, in a way, more disturbing than any noise. Akane felt the eyes of the fairies on them, following every move, like small predators observing their prey.

The path finally opened into a stunning clearing. In the center, a lake of crystal-clear water reflected the sunlight in a kaleidoscope of colors. And above the lake, floating on a platform of giant water lilies, was the most beautiful creature that Akane, with all her elven experience, had ever seen.

The Fairy Queen.

Eleonora. Her beauty was otherworldly, almost painful to behold. Her hair was like molten gold, cascading over her shoulders. Her eyes, two cut emeralds, shone with a hypnotizing intensity. Her skin was like the purest alabaster, emitting a soft glow. Her dress, made of living petals, seemed to change color with every slight movement, as if light itself were dancing on it.

"Welcome, travelers," said the Queen, her voice like a crystal chime, melodious and enchanting. "I am Eleonora, sovereign of this realm. What brings you to the Fairy Realm?"

Akane took a deep breath, seeking firmness in her voice, a newfound pragmatism battling the naivety of her upbringing. "We seek the Crown of Luxflutuante, Your Majesty. It was stolen from our people, and we believe the thieves may have sought refuge in your realm."

The Queen tilted her head, an amused glint in her eyes. "The Crown... an object of great power, indeed. An elven artifact of utmost importance, capable of maintaining peace between the lineages… or unleashing a terrible war. And why should I help you find it?"

Daniel took a step forward, his posture respectful, but firm. "We offer our gratitude, Your Majesty, and the promise that we will not cause trouble in your realm. The crown is essential for peace in our land."

The Queen smiled, but the smile didn't reach her eyes. "War… such an… interesting concept. But don't worry, mortal and elves. I can help you. But first, follow me."

"IS SHE TRUSTWORTHY, AKANE?" The Creator's voice, Daniel's other soul, echoed in Akane's mind, laden with apprehension.

"I don't know, Creator…" Akane replied mentally, "But we need the crown. We have no choice but to trust, for now."

The Queen, as if she could read her thoughts, gave her a piercing look. "I have something to show you, before we proceed. A special event. An annual tradition. Something… fun." She made a gesture, and the platform of water lilies, like a magic boat, floated smoothly, moving away from the clearing and guiding them towards a new location.

The journey was short, but the tension in the air increased with each passing moment. Akane exchanged apprehensive glances with Aela, who responded with a firm squeeze of her arm, a silent gesture of support and readiness for battle. Eryndora, in turn, seemed to shrink even further, her green eyes wide and fixed on some distant point, as if seeking in vain a refuge from the imminent reality. The sweet and cloying perfume of the flowers of the fairy realm now seemed mixed with something else... a metallic odor, subtle but unsettling.

Eleonora's "fun," as they soon discovered, was a colossal arena. Not just any arena, but a construction that seemed to have been carved directly into the landscape, as if nature itself had conspired to create that stage of horrors. The walls were formed by dark, irregular rocks, covered by climbing exotic flowers, whose vibrant colors contrasted grotesquely with the somber atmosphere. The ground was covered by a fine, white sand, almost immaculate, except for some dark, sinister stains that Akane preferred not to analyze closely.

The arena was circular, but not perfectly. There were indentations and protrusions in the walls, creating small niches and platforms, as if they were hiding places or vantage points for the combatants. Above, instead of an open sky, hovered a magical dome, an iridescent bubble that filtered the sunlight, creating a diffuse, almost dreamlike lighting effect, which only increased the sense of unreality. A barrier to ensure the impossibility of escape by land or sky.

The stands were carved into the rock itself, rising in a spiral around the arena. They were packed with fairies, a euphoric and effervescent crowd, a sea of delicate faces and cruel smiles. Their flowing dresses, in colors ranging from pastel pink to deep violet, created a hypnotizing visual effect, as if a garden of exotic flowers had come to life and gathered there for a macabre spectacle.

The sound emanating from the crowd was deafening. High-pitched screams, hysterical laughter, frenetic applause, shrill whistles, and incomprehensible chants mixed in a disturbing cacophony. The fairies clapped their hands, waved small musical instruments that emitted high-pitched and dissonant sounds, and threw flower petals into the arena, as if they were celebrating a festival. But the energy that emanated from them was not of joy, but of a sickly excitement, a bloodlust that made Akane shiver. Their shark teeth shone in the light filtered by the dome, and their eyes, previously only curious or cold, now burned with a predatory intensity.

Daniel, next to Akane, froze. His brown eyes widened, and he paled visibly. The hand holding the sword trembled slightly.

"Akane…" he whispered, his voice hoarse with disbelief, "this… this is like the arenas of my world. The coliseums… where gladiators fought to the death for the entertainment of the crowd. They were… places of carnage, of unspeakable suffering." He swallowed hard, his face contorted in an expression of horror.

Akane felt a chill run down her spine. The realization of what the Fairy Queen planned hit her like a lightning bolt.

"Today is the day of the annual Liberation event!" announced Eleonora, her voice amplified by magic, resounding throughout the arena. A cruel smile played on her lips, and her emerald eyes shone with sadistic satisfaction. "Let the games begin!"

The fairy crowd exploded in a new frenzy, even more intense. Akane looked at Daniel, at Aela and Eryndora, seeking in their faces a glimpse of hope, but found only fear and grim apprehension.

A metallic creak echoed through the arena, and Akane looked to one side. Immense gates of twisted iron, adorned with grotesque sculptures of faces in agony, were slowly opening. A dark shadow projected into the arena, followed by a strong smell of musk and blood. Four figures emerged from the darkness, dragging heavy chains:

An orc, colossal, muscular, with protruding tusks and bloodshot eyes. He wielded an immense club, studded with spikes, which he dragged along the ground, producing a sharp and irritating sound.

A werewolf, in its lupine form, but still with vaguely human features. His fur bristled, his eyes shining with a mixture of fear and wild fury. He growled softly, showing his sharp fangs.

An elf, looking dejected and desolate. His hair, perhaps once bright, was now dull and tangled. He held a staff of twisted wood, which seemed more like a support than a weapon. His eyes, empty of hope, stared at the ground.

A dwarf, robust and compact, with a braided red beard and an expression of stubborn determination. He held a war axe with carved runes, the blade shining ominously in the diffuse light.

The four prisoners looked at each other, exchanging apprehensive glances. It was evident that they didn't know each other, but they shared the same cruel fate. A tacit alliance, forged by fear and the need to survive, seemed to arise between them.

On the opposite side of the arena, another gate, even larger and more imposing, began to open. A tense silence fell over the fairy crowd, interrupted only by the creaking of the gate and the accelerated heartbeats of Akane. A gigantic shadow projected into the arena, and a guttural roar echoed throughout the place, making the sand tremble.

Then, the chimera emerged.

An aberration out of the worst nightmares. The head was that of a colossal lion, with a thick mane and flaming eyes. The body, muscular and covered in scales, ended in a scorpion's tail, whose stinger dripped a dark, viscous poison. From the back sprouted immense eagle wings, whose feathers seemed like sharp blades. The powerful paws ended in lion claws, capable of tearing rock.

The chimera let out another roar, even louder and more threatening, and the fairy audience vibrated with ecstasy. The creature advanced to the center of the arena, its eyes fixed on the four prisoners, as if it were savoring the carnage that was to come.

The battle began without warning. The chimera attacked first, lunging at the orc with a speed surprising for its size. The orc tried to defend himself with the club, but the creature dodged the blow and hit him with its claws, opening a deep gash in his chest. The orc roared in pain and fell to his knees, the club escaping his hands.

The werewolf, taking advantage of the chimera's distraction, jumped on its back, trying to sink his fangs into its neck. But the scorpion's tail whipped through the air, hitting him squarely and throwing him against the arena wall. The werewolf howled in pain.

The elf, in a desperate act, raised his staff and began to recite an incantation, but his weak and trembling voice was drowned out by the roar of the chimera. The creature turned to him, its eyes shining with fury, and spat a blast of fire, which engulfed the elf in flames. The elf screamed, a sharp and terrible scream, before falling to the ground, his body charred.

The dwarf, the last one standing, charged at the chimera with a war cry, wielding his axe with all his might. He managed to hit the creature's paw, but the axe blade barely scratched the scales. The chimera, enraged, struck the dwarf with its scorpion tail, throwing him against the arena wall with a dull thud.

But the fight wasn't over yet.

The werewolf, who previously seemed out of combat, got up with a guttural growl. Ignoring the throbbing pain in his body, he grabbed a spear lying on the ground, probably from some guard of the arena, and, with a Herculean effort, threw it. The spear flew through the air and hit one of the chimera's eyes squarely, piercing it.

The creature let out a roar of pain and fury, shaking its head violently. The orc, even seriously wounded, saw an opportunity. Staggering, he got up and, gathering his last strength, raised his club and delivered a powerful blow to the chimera's head, taking advantage of the creature's imbalance.

The blow hit the chimera squarely, but it wasn't enough to knock it down. The creature, blind in one eye and bleeding profusely, fell to the side, but got up again, even more furious.

The werewolf and the orc, exhausted and wounded, began to strike the chimera frantically, desperately, shouting at the top of their lungs. Each blow, each lunge, was a fight for survival. The chimera, in turn, responded with fury, striking with its claws, tail, and wings, trying to ward off the attackers.

The werewolf, in an act of pure savagery, jumped on the chimera and, with his claws and fangs, ripped off one of the creature's ears, amidst jets of blood. The chimera roared in pain, blood running down its snout.

In a quick movement, the chimera's scorpion tail whipped through the air and struck the orc squarely, piercing his chest and going through his body. The orc was thrown into the air, his lifeless body flying towards the audience and colliding with the magical dome that covered the arena, before falling heavily to the ground.

The fairy audience exploded in a crazed delirium, screaming and applauding the orc's brutal death.

The werewolf, terrified, realized he was next. He ran towards the gates through which he had entered, screaming for help, begging to be released.

The dwarf, who was previously fallen, staggered towards the opposite gate, trying to escape, but the chimera, even severely wounded, turned and spat a blast of fire, engulfing him in flames. The dwarf screamed in agony before falling, his body in flames.

The werewolf, desperate, continued to scream and pound on the gates, begging for his life. The chimera, exhausted and covered in blood, limped towards its own cell, seeking refuge.

The fairy audience, however, was not satisfied. Boos and shouts of "KILL! KILL! KILL!" echoed through the arena, accompanied by the frenetic sound of clapping and pounding on the stands. The fairies' bloodlust was insatiable.

Queen Eleonora, watching everything from above, extended her hand and made a negative sign with her thumb, sealing the chimera's fate.

Royal fairy soldiers, wearing shining armor and carrying spears, entered the arena. They brought with them a giant crossbow, mounted on a platform, and equipped with a huge arrow, almost the size of a man. They pointed the weapon at the chimera, which, exhausted and wounded, could barely stand.

With a bang, the crossbow fired. The arrow flew through the air and hit the chimera squarely in the chest, piercing its heart. The creature let out a last agonizing roar before collapsing heavily on the ground, dead.

The fairy audience continued to shout "KILL! KILL! KILL!", while six guards with spears surrounded the werewolf, who, on his knees and in tears, trembled uncontrollably.

"I beg you... I have a family, please... no... no...", he sobbed, the words broken by fear.

The guards, without showing any mercy, advanced on him and, in a synchronized movement, pierced him with their spears, all at once. The werewolf agonized for a few moments, his body trembling, before exhaling his last breath.

"My daughter... my son... I won't come back... forgive me...", he whispered, the words almost inaudible.

Akane, terrified, watched everything with wide eyes, her body trembling. Tears streamed down her face, but she couldn't look away from the brutal scene. Beside her, Daniel cried openly, something she had never seen before. The tears streamed down his face, mixing with his stubble. His fist was clenched so tightly that the knuckles were white. Aela, next to Daniel, placed a firm hand on the human's shoulder, her face a mask of contained and impotent fury. It was the first time Akane saw Aela display that expression, an almost palpable rage. Eryndora, in turn, had fainted in Aela's arms, unable to withstand the horror of the situation.