Two men crashed through the forest, their breath coming in ragged gasps as branches snapped and leaves rustled. 'Keep running!' one of them shouted, panic etched in every line of his face. They were Malgrave’s underlings, fleeing in terror from an unseen horror.

Suddenly, a chilling rustle pierced the night, emanating from the dense undergrowth. 'What was that?!' one man exclaimed, his face twisted in horror as he glanced back, fearing pursuit.

" Do you think that damn thing will let us go? Even that dark tamer was killed! " the butler replied, his eyes wide with fear.

Their footsteps echoed in the silent forest, the moonlight casting eerie shadows on the moss-covered ground. Trees loomed like dark sentinels, and the air was thick with the scent of pine and damp earth.

" I don't know. Just keep running—we’re near the exit," the first man urged, frustration in his voice.

"How can a small boy become a monster?" the man behind the butler asked, disbelief etched on his face.

"We should inform the hunting association about this," the man suggested, his mind racing.

"We can't," the butler replied, stopping abruptly. He moved close to the man, looking into his eyes with an intensity that made the other man shiver.

"But why?" the man asked cautiously, sensing danger.

The butler stopped abruptly, pulling the other man close. 'We can't,' he whispered fiercely, taking out a small knife from his collar. In one swift, brutal motion, he silenced his companion forever. 'Because you're a liability,' he muttered coldly, watching the life drain from the man’s eyes.

'That child will bring glory to the world... and I shall inform **********, who will surely reward me for bringing this boy to them,' he said, staring into the dense forest, a twisted smile forming on his lips.

A sudden rustling nearby made the butler tense, his heart pounding. He gripped the small blade tighter, his eyes darting through the shadows. Every rustle, every whisper of wind seemed to carry a threat. Then, a pair of glowing eyes, cold and predatory, caught the butler’s attention.

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The creature moved with astonishing speed, emerging from the darkness. Its form was grotesque, a monstrous amalgamation of shadows and fur, with fangs that seemed to gleam even in the dim light. The butler froze, his blood running cold. He was trapped, surrounded by the darkness, with a creature of nightmares bearing down on him. He had traded one danger for another, and he knew, with a shuddering certainty, that his life was about to come to a brutal end.

The creature moved closer, its eyes fixated on the butler, a chilling growl rumbling in its throat. The shadows of the forest seemed to writhe and twist around it, as though it were born from the darkness itself.

But the butler, despite his terror, knew he had to fight. He remembered the child, the boy who had been transformed into this monstrous being. He remembered the darkness that had consumed the boy, the power that had twisted him into something unnatural. And he remembered the words of Malgrave: 'The boy is the key to everything... if we can harness his power, the world will bow before us.'

The butler's heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the quiet night. He gripped the small blade, its sharpness a meager comfort against the unseen danger lurking in the shadows. A rustle in the undergrowth, a whisper of wind, each sent him flinching, his eyes darting wildly.

“You are going nowhere,” a voice slithered through the air, mesmerizing, yet laced with icy threat. The butler, unable to speak, could only manage a choked, 'Fucking fairies...' His words were cut short by a sharp, searing pain that ripped through him, leaving him gasping for air, then nothing.

The fairies emerged from the darkness, their ethereal forms shimmering faintly in the moonlight. “We should inform Rosie,” one said, her voice calm, her gaze cold.

Moments later, Rosie stood before the gathered fairies, her wings shimmering in the moonlight. “We found a human fleeing,” she announced, her voice heavy with sorrow. “But killing him… was it necessary?”

The fairies remained silent, their expressions unreadable. Rosie, her eyes searching their faces, felt a cold dread settle in her gut. The air around her grew heavy, burdened with the weight of their silence.

A golden ray of light filtered through the leaves, touching Rosie’s face. Her eyes squeezed shut, then opened, the sorrow replaced by a steely resolve.

“All the humans who were in the forest are gone,” she declared, her voice ringing with a newfound strength. “Everyone can go back now.” She turned, her wings catching the light as she soared towards Gracillia, leaving behind the silence that echoed the haunting truth: the fairies were no longer just protectors. They were a hunter.

The forest held its breath. A hush fell over the clearing as a small procession of cubs, eyes red-rimmed with grief, approached the fallen Thaka. Gracillia, her fur matted with tears, carried Arin, the youngest, on her back. His tiny paws gripped her neck, oblivious to the sorrow that surrounded him.

Thaka lay still, his brave heart silent. Like a shimmering pearl, a single tear rolled down Arin’s cheek, a silent farewell from the sleeping cub. The air, thick with the scent of pine and the weight of loss, shimmered with a barely perceptible light as Thaka’s soul began to rise.

The children whispered their goodbyes, their voices fragile as the leaves rustling in the breeze. The forest itself seemed to mourn with them, its branches drooping in sympathy. Thaka’s soul, an ethereal wisp of silver, brushed against the leaves, leaving behind a faint, sweet aroma of wild berries. It was a quiet, almost invisible departure, like the last breath of a gentle wind.

Arin, unaware of the invisible exchange, slept soundly on Gracillia’s back. A single tear, the final echo of his sorrow, dried on his cheek, leaving behind a faint mark of love and loss.