THE SUYLAS DEEPWOODS ARCHED overhead, the stately boughs bringing an immediate awareness of rest and calm. The Hyperdragons brought the battered force down in the first screen of smaller trees and brush. Three departed immediately to create a diversion while the companions disembarked and gathered their wits about them.

Had she been able, Allory would have wept. Leaves. Dense foliage. Loamy scents and a gentle nearby chirruping that reminded her of home. Her whole body but most especially her butterfly antennae tickled with the awareness of ariavanae – not the overwhelming buzz she had experienced beside the Sentinel Trees, but a sobering sense of ancient things deeply and inextricably rooted into the secret fabric of Spheris, as if she had dipped her toe into the edge of an ocean of magic and found it cool, refreshing and all-enveloping.

Whatever an ocean is, she smiled to herself. Wondrous beyond imagination, this forest ocean.

Henzaroseflash said, “We must leave you here to pass through the barrier on foot and wing, my friends. We will deal with these traitorous greens and escape anon. Within lies the realm of the Forestal Dragons. Our high-flying kind are not welcome in the Deepwoods.”

“You should be, great Dragoness,” Ashueli disagreed.

“Aye, your intervention was nothing short of miraculous,” Harzune put in, bowing to the Hyperdragon. “Our thanks can never be enough – to you and our new Pixie friends.”

She gazed down upon them with what Allory strongly suspected might be actual fondness – disguised as blistering maternal regard, of course. “Take care of my Pixies and my Scintillant Fae,” she grated. “Flash travels, little ones. We shall meet again.”

Allory’s little butterfly wings quivered in delight.

“Flash travels, Henzaroseflash,” said Yaarah, inclining his muzzle.

“Flash to your wings, scholar Yaarah!” she boomed, clouting him so hard upon the shoulder he staggered and fell over. “That’s from the Healer Sage Inixipi.”

He whimpered, “Ouch?”

“She would wish you to know that your past transgressions have been forgiven. She might be merciful, but my memory is long and my talons sharp.” The pink behemoth eyeballed him fierily, then added with a great guffaw, “Although, you do begin to impress me with a few redeeming qualities, scholar Yaarah, if your taste in Dragonesses is anything to judge by. A magnificent choice! Sabline will certainly keep you honest.”

Her slow wink suggested a few ways in which said honesty might be cultivated.

“Mrrwll!” he gasped. A large white spark leaped off his twitching tail.

“Murrr-hurrr-harrr!” Sabline chortled. She would take this spicy interplay for a compliment, wouldn’t she?

“Make haste,” Henzaroseflash urged. “You must fly to safety, as must I.”

The Dragoness thumped away through the trees toward the open plains of Marakusia. Allory did not want to look out there. The flight had been harrowing enough. Who could imagine the destruction she had seen only in part, an immense swathe of the kingdom simply churned up like fields tilled for planting? Was this what the Wraith’s assault meant to accomplish, to reap souls for its ghastly harvest? Or must she imagine a greater, as yet unknown purpose lay behind this apparition’s actions?

So wearily weighed her soul, she feared she would be unable to move a limb.

Allory began to flutter gamely after the others as they trod wearily behind Varzune, who led the way while his brofae darted up and down the line, checking that everyone was in motion and alright. Tireless. Concerned for all. He urged them on. No telling what the green Hyperdragon tribe might dare, even here in the sacred Deepwoods.

Preoccupied with worrying about how she would ever dance again as her heart clenched agonisingly at the limping, groaning and weeping over fallen loved ones, Allory startled as the tall green Fae paralleled her flight path.

“Istrazuki!” she declared, placing her hand upon her heart.

Allory Fae. She bobbed her head.

“Is … shift not … bad risk?” she inquired earnestly. “First time?”

Another nod.

“Help. Istrazuki show.”

They tarried upon a low bough, well-hidden amidst a burgundy thicket. Touching her palms lightly to the sides of Allory’s butterfly head, the other Faerie closed her eyes. A sensation like a cat’s claw pricked her mind. Allory jerked away.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“No fight. Gentle –” she indicated her temple, then her body “– to before. Make it … do. Read it me inside itself.”

Allory understood. Reaching out as delicately as she could, she examined the Faerie’s fey magic while imagining her own person, her Allory-ness from before. Limbs. Silly spiky hair, so unlike this Fae’s long braid. Sapphire sparkles. Laughing at Yaarah’s antics as he nearly leaped out of his gorgeous fur coat at the realisation of who she was.

You were born to save the world.

Yaarah. Always a true believer. Such majesty in his quiet faith.

Yet she tasted afresh the oddest thing about belief. It was catchy. Infectious. Unpredictably effervescent, like the dynamism of life itself. A few feet away, Fakori the Purewish Faerie’s face suddenly lit up as if Middlesun itself had ignited behind his eyes. He cried:

A pure wish for Allory Fae,

Nothing under our skies may say nay,

You shall find a way!

Her skin tingled and did something impossible. Outside-inside-flip-and … a twinkling fandangle reorientation? What? A second later, a squeal of delighted laughter split the air as Allory realised her proper wing clusters had just vibrated. She stretched her arms and arched her back with a blissful sigh. Sap of her ancestors, this felt so good, her sap practically fizzed inside her veins!

A pure wish? What power!

“Sparkles, you’re back!” Yaarah yowled.

The green Faerie grinned hugely. “Niho nizi koni samurati izki-Allory!”

“Nihon-ti beriki onja-ja,” she agreed eagerly. “Eh … eep?”

Istrazuki’s concerned, even stern face split into an enormous grin. “Niki-on ho’itoni? Saki-tonja!”

Her own eyes grew huge. “I speak the language of the Shapeshifter Fae? How’s that even – you showed me! You … you gave me such a gift … and you, Fakori!” Tears welled up, tears and trembling and incredulity. She sprang into the air to hug Istrazuki. “I – I don’t know how, but you – you taught me how to change back and restored my joy and now … now I can speak with you?”

She tried to explain sidelong to Yaarah, flustered and confused and happy, while every non-green Fae and creature stared at her as if she’d grown obsidian talons and spouted sulphurous Raptor-breath. Istrazuki spluttered that in her culture they did not hug but found herself the recipient of a dozen random hugs and kisses anyways. Oh, and more hugs by way of apologising for the slew of hugs and kisses. Whatever. Her kin twittered between themselves like a flock of jungle parakeets in their musical language. While Allory did not hear everything, what she did catch, she understood – her brain persisted in claiming she should not, but she did. Perfectly.

Gladness flooded her soul. What a miracle! Volleys of high-pitched giggling ambushed her from nowhere, laughter like dappling sunlight dancing amongst the leaves of these Deepwoods. Something listened. Something ancient and immense, yet recently moved to anguish and fury by vile injuries to huge regions of its being. Employing Istrazuki’s knee for a springboard, Allory whizzed into the air and broke into spontaneous, almost frantic dance. Feel the ariavanae! Sense its power! As her spinning gaze caught the expressions that ranged along their straggling line, those who carried dead Faelings in their arms and bore the mortally wounded upon their backs, who gazed at her frolicking with incomprehension or even mounting anger – in this moment, she knew that this was what she had been born for.

An indescribable beauty of being alive shimmered across her vision. Her vision, her capacity expanded beyond hope or expectation.

In this labour lay true rejoicing.

All the exultation, the bliss, the gravitational pull of destiny, coalesced in her belly. Unquestionable. Indescribable. Uncontainable! As Allory danced through what felt like the slight membrane of a soapy bubble, a sensation like a huge inrush of breath overcame her, as if the entire Elven forest had gasped in realisation of a novel truth. She had no words to describe what it might be, save that a sense of homecoming bubbled in her soul’s sap.

Scintillance blasted from the core of her being.

Every one of her companions staggered as if they had been struck in the sap or fires of their respective beings. Even the trees shivered as if an unseen wind rushed through the treetops, wildly visionary; a song of inspiration that changed the very melody of the now and made it new. Then, silence. Overwhelming silence – broken several breathless seconds later by a sharp report as Zzuriel’s bottle prison shattered not into fragments, but into glistening white dust that fell in a neat ring about her pale toes. Her manacles began to steam as the awesome cold of her body poured into them, swiftly turning white. When she flexed her muscles, the strange metal cracked and fell away.

Freed, her hands flew to her mouth, stifling a wild sob. Icicle tears tinkled from the corners of her large dark eyes. “I … I …” she gasped, raising and flicking her wings as if this were the most marvellous sensation she had ever enjoyed.

Perhaps it was, even if it clearly hurt.

In the corner of her eye, Allory noticed how Harzune’s eyes sort of stretched in their own right, admiring the girlfae’s lissom movement.

Then, as their previously lifeless loved ones suddenly stirred and, all at once, drew deep, lung-filling breaths, people began to scream or wail and even fainted outright in significant numbers. A little voice chirped, “Dadfae, where am I?” Fae sat up, a babble of voices rising in incredulity. The green Fae began to ululate, creating a tempestuous, exotic song that filled the forest halls with sounds of jubilation. Sabline growled in astonishment as the arrows squeezed back out of her body and fell to the ground, the holes where they had been, sparkling and seething with azure and onyx scintillance. Hazintwine hugged himself, in a manner of speaking. Xiximay laughed with the freedom of a young girlfae, while Fakori blushed furiously when Allory dive-bombed him with a flying kiss.

“You’re such awesome nectar!” she yelled.

She sped back and forth in wild, rapturous darts of flight, checking in with everyone. Even the last Faeling she and Yaarah had rescued, an orphan, appeared well and alert.

A world without death. What if good and evil creatures alike endured eternally?

Was the Wraith immortal?

Yaarah would love to consider the implications. Just now, however, she refused to let any shadow spoil her jubilant celebration. The Scintillant deposited kisses and slapped wingtips until she became perfectly dizzy and had to sit down on the Felidragon’s back because she could no longer fly straight.

Crazy.

This was the glorious insanity of magic.