"To win? It's simple!"
As if fighting the Midnight Hunt was a simple matter. Fanilly had a hard time even wrapping her head around it, but---
Dame Tyaethe had done it. By her words, they'd nearly defeated the leader of that hunt, the Bloody Lord Rozenalt himself. And now it was Rozenalt once more.
It was an impossible scenario. It was one that made it feel like she'd stepped right back into that world created by the Knight-Witch. Her heart was beating so quickly she thought it would erupt from her breastplate and into the strange air of the fae realm.
And yet, it was their only path forward. To recover the Duke's wits. To escape this place, now that they'd come here. She'd placed all of them on the line by this method of negotiation, and now they had no choice but to follow through.
Was this foolishness? Was this idiocy, unbefitting of the Knight-Captain of the Iron Roses?
---Maybe.
Deep down, she felt certain it probably was.
But they couldn't go back now, could they?
"The Hunt originates from its leader, you see," continued the Moonlit Queen, brightly, "So you just have to slay that rotten-blooded boor Rozenalt and it'll become much weaker! ... Nobody's ever done it before, but you all sounded like you'd be really good at it!"
Despite everything, that bright, childish smile from the Moonlit Queen appeared entirely genuine. Fae were difficult to understand, but Fanilly didn't doubt that she was being honest. If she had to guess, the fae girl was probably happy with either outcome. The way she described the spirit of Lord Rozenalt certainly sounded as if she'd have preferred him being gone.
Lord Rozenalt, said to be so vicious and cruel that his antechamber was permanently stained red. Lord Rozenalt, who lead the Crimson Knights that wallowed in blood. Lord Rozenalt, the vicious, conniving monster who used magic and blade to nearly bring ruin to his own nation, all for nothing more than his personal gain.
It was no wonder he'd lived on as a stock villain in literature, from his reputation alone.
Fanilly steadied herself.
"... Dame Tyaethe, I'm entrusting you with the matter of striking down their leader. For the rest of us, we'll isolate Lord Rozenalt and slay the remainder of his forces once he's been defeated."
She tried not to allow her voice to waver. She couldn't deny Lady Gertrude's words, Dame Tyaethe was the obvious choice.
They could do this.
They had to do this.
"Then, Moonlit Queen, our terms are thus: If we win, the Duke's wits must be returned. Per Sir Rolan's request, you must also grant us an item from your collection."
The childlike fae simply smirked.
"Then it's settled~ I'll arrange for a guide to where the rotten bloody dummy has been sculking around, and---"
She paused for a few moments, considering Sir Fionn's request. It appeared that inflicting the minor alteration upon him had soothed her irritation, though she pointedly did not address his joking offer to visit when she next spoke.
"I suppose it's only fair. Súileabhán?"
The crow-man, who had been silent so far, stepped forward and raised one hand.
Darkness rose and twisted together, coalescing into a shape unmistakable.
It was a thin-bladed sword, roughly a meter in full length and pitch black. Unlike a certain blade of legend, however, it gleamed and shone like metal, or perhaps glass. It lacked a crossguard entirely, and the hilt was wrapped in a smooth, unidentifiable material.
"I do not like this, milady, but by your word," said the raven-man, taking the blade by its hilt and offering it to the knight.
"Súileabhán will lend you one of his feathers for the night."
It was almost entirely weightless, but the extraordinary sharpness of its edge could not be understated. Even the slightest touch would draw blood.
The air grew subtly warmer, and Fanilly became away of an orange-yellow glow. When she followed its source, she could only describe it as a young girl, smaller than a human, who appeared to be composed entirely of fire. At least, save for the large black taloned hands, spine-like feet, and horns protruding from her blazing hair, which appeared almost like they were made from burnt wood or black stone.
Despite being composed of flames, she also appeared solid, almost like human flesh. Her eyes were brilliantly yellow, and she appeared to lack a mouth.
She gazed inquisitively at the knights, drifting back and forth slightly through the air.
"She will be your guide~" explained the Moonlit Queen. If Fanilly remembered the names of fae correctly, then the one that had been called to guide them was a Feinyar.
They were not particularly malicious, but had a habit of tricking travelers into following them. Either by deliberate prank, or by accident while playing in the forest in the darkness.
"Now, go ahead and pray for victory to those ladies you worship!"
With that final declaration, the fae realm suddenly receded.
They were in the forest once more, beside the strange tree that had been born from their defeat of the Moonlit Queen's guardian.
A rather uncomfortable-looking Lord Arken quickly made some distance between himself and Dame Tyaethe before speaking.
"Well, now we hardly have a choice, do we?"
The changes inflicted upon Sir Gerard and Sir Fionn faded. It was likely that the Moonlit Queen was aware leaving them to glow brilliantly in the dark was an unfair disadvantage. Despite everything, the fairness of the wager did appear to be important to the childish fae.
Fanilly noted with dismay that her hair was still long enough to be a potential issue, but for the moment---
"We'll take a few moments to prepare, and then we'll follow the feinyar's lead."
At being mentioned, the fire fae spun briefly in the air before quietly drifting from knight to knight, investigating them curiously.
Soon, they'd face the Midnight Hunt.
As if fighting the Midnight Hunt was a simple matter. Fanilly had a hard time even wrapping her head around it, but---
Dame Tyaethe had done it. By her words, they'd nearly defeated the leader of that hunt, the Bloody Lord Rozenalt himself. And now it was Rozenalt once more.
It was an impossible scenario. It was one that made it feel like she'd stepped right back into that world created by the Knight-Witch. Her heart was beating so quickly she thought it would erupt from her breastplate and into the strange air of the fae realm.
And yet, it was their only path forward. To recover the Duke's wits. To escape this place, now that they'd come here. She'd placed all of them on the line by this method of negotiation, and now they had no choice but to follow through.
Was this foolishness? Was this idiocy, unbefitting of the Knight-Captain of the Iron Roses?
---Maybe.
Deep down, she felt certain it probably was.
But they couldn't go back now, could they?
"The Hunt originates from its leader, you see," continued the Moonlit Queen, brightly, "So you just have to slay that rotten-blooded boor Rozenalt and it'll become much weaker! ... Nobody's ever done it before, but you all sounded like you'd be really good at it!"
Despite everything, that bright, childish smile from the Moonlit Queen appeared entirely genuine. Fae were difficult to understand, but Fanilly didn't doubt that she was being honest. If she had to guess, the fae girl was probably happy with either outcome. The way she described the spirit of Lord Rozenalt certainly sounded as if she'd have preferred him being gone.
Lord Rozenalt, said to be so vicious and cruel that his antechamber was permanently stained red. Lord Rozenalt, who lead the Crimson Knights that wallowed in blood. Lord Rozenalt, the vicious, conniving monster who used magic and blade to nearly bring ruin to his own nation, all for nothing more than his personal gain.
It was no wonder he'd lived on as a stock villain in literature, from his reputation alone.
Fanilly steadied herself.
"... Dame Tyaethe, I'm entrusting you with the matter of striking down their leader. For the rest of us, we'll isolate Lord Rozenalt and slay the remainder of his forces once he's been defeated."
She tried not to allow her voice to waver. She couldn't deny Lady Gertrude's words, Dame Tyaethe was the obvious choice.
They could do this.
They had to do this.
"Then, Moonlit Queen, our terms are thus: If we win, the Duke's wits must be returned. Per Sir Rolan's request, you must also grant us an item from your collection."
The childlike fae simply smirked.
"Then it's settled~ I'll arrange for a guide to where the rotten bloody dummy has been sculking around, and---"
She paused for a few moments, considering Sir Fionn's request. It appeared that inflicting the minor alteration upon him had soothed her irritation, though she pointedly did not address his joking offer to visit when she next spoke.
"I suppose it's only fair. Súileabhán?"
The crow-man, who had been silent so far, stepped forward and raised one hand.
Darkness rose and twisted together, coalescing into a shape unmistakable.
It was a thin-bladed sword, roughly a meter in full length and pitch black. Unlike a certain blade of legend, however, it gleamed and shone like metal, or perhaps glass. It lacked a crossguard entirely, and the hilt was wrapped in a smooth, unidentifiable material.
"I do not like this, milady, but by your word," said the raven-man, taking the blade by its hilt and offering it to the knight.
"Súileabhán will lend you one of his feathers for the night."
It was almost entirely weightless, but the extraordinary sharpness of its edge could not be understated. Even the slightest touch would draw blood.
The air grew subtly warmer, and Fanilly became away of an orange-yellow glow. When she followed its source, she could only describe it as a young girl, smaller than a human, who appeared to be composed entirely of fire. At least, save for the large black taloned hands, spine-like feet, and horns protruding from her blazing hair, which appeared almost like they were made from burnt wood or black stone.
Despite being composed of flames, she also appeared solid, almost like human flesh. Her eyes were brilliantly yellow, and she appeared to lack a mouth.
She gazed inquisitively at the knights, drifting back and forth slightly through the air.
"She will be your guide~" explained the Moonlit Queen. If Fanilly remembered the names of fae correctly, then the one that had been called to guide them was a Feinyar.
They were not particularly malicious, but had a habit of tricking travelers into following them. Either by deliberate prank, or by accident while playing in the forest in the darkness.
"Now, go ahead and pray for victory to those ladies you worship!"
With that final declaration, the fae realm suddenly receded.
They were in the forest once more, beside the strange tree that had been born from their defeat of the Moonlit Queen's guardian.
A rather uncomfortable-looking Lord Arken quickly made some distance between himself and Dame Tyaethe before speaking.
"Well, now we hardly have a choice, do we?"
The changes inflicted upon Sir Gerard and Sir Fionn faded. It was likely that the Moonlit Queen was aware leaving them to glow brilliantly in the dark was an unfair disadvantage. Despite everything, the fairness of the wager did appear to be important to the childish fae.
Fanilly noted with dismay that her hair was still long enough to be a potential issue, but for the moment---
"We'll take a few moments to prepare, and then we'll follow the feinyar's lead."
At being mentioned, the fire fae spun briefly in the air before quietly drifting from knight to knight, investigating them curiously.
Soon, they'd face the Midnight Hunt.