"I am Sylva, the Queen of the Fey and the protector of the Eastern Realms," spoke the woman with graceful authority.

Many questions swirled in my mind as I stood before the queen of all fairies, yet the answers remained elusive. Why was I here, and what fate had befallen Emberfield? Were my family safe? When I attempted to voice my concerns, my mouth remained sealed shut. I was immobilized, unable to speak or move, my gaze fixed upon the queen.

The only knowledge I possessed of their queen came from the pages of history books, which offered little insight beyond her formidable power and otherwordly beauty. And indeed, she was beautiful—far surpassing any description found within those ancient tomes. Sylva possessed long, flowing hair the color of azure skies and open seas, unlike any mortal I had ever beheld. Her crystal-clear blue eyes held depths that mirrored the vastness of the ocean itself. Adorned with delicate blue earrings, a shimmering blue crystal nestled upon her forehead, and intricate blue ornaments woven into her hair, she radiated an otherworldly charm.

Though her pointed ears resembled those of the elves, it was her magnificent wings that truly set her apart, resembling the graceful wings of the most exquisite butterfly. They shimmered with hues of blue, reminiscent of the dawn sky, their presence exuding both elegance and power, capturing my attention completely. With her glossy red lips parting, she began to speak once more.

"Excuse my oversight, young one. I had forgotten about the small enchantment I placed upon you. You may speak now."

"Where is my family?" I asked.

"They are where they should be. Home."

"And what of the orcs?"

"They are dealt with, you made sure of that; did you not?"

"Yes, I suppose I did." I took a shallow breath, memories of that night flooding my mind, suffocating me with their weight.

"What is the matter, child?" the queen asked, her voice devoid of emotion as she observed me.

"There was a child, no more than ten years of age. He had brown hair and hazel eyes. His clothes were simple, ragged, full of holes; yet he clung to a nice leather hat. It must have been a gift from his mother, as he seemed to hold onto it dearly..." Collapsing to my knees, I clutched my chest tightly as the air escaped my lungs.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"Breathe, child." The queen waved her hand, and her ring glowed green, conjuring a soothing breeze that cooled the room and calmed me momentarily.

"I have this darkness within me, one I cannot escape from. When I am in danger, it emerges like a shield, protecting me from certain death. It was no different this time; I wielded it to defeat the orcs, believing it to be my power to control. But I was wrong; it controlled me instead. The boy was roaming the battlefield, searching for his mother, when the darkness erupted, consuming every orc, every corpse, and him. He wasn't meant to be there! I have killed him!" I broke down, tears streaming down my cheeks.

"Think carefully, little one. Was it you who killed the boy, or perhaps it was someone else?"

"W-what? Who could've done it besides me?"

"It just happens that I know a little about this darkness you carry within you. Now, I'll ask again. Was it you who killed the boy, or something else? I will act accordingly to your answer. If you had killed him, I would have no choice but to act as a queen should, and your fate shall meet a certain death. Now, speak your truth," the queen demanded, her voice still gentle, yet her eyes piercing with authority.

"Once I defeated their chief, I collapsed. My bones were shattered from the fall, and darkness healed me, and possibly even brought me back from the world of the dead. Strange voices whispered in my ear, telling me to let it go, to roam free. The next thing I knew, the dark swallowed everything. So, I don't know if it was me, or something else. But what I do know, is that this guilt inside me is all mine to burden. That alone makes me the murderer, so do what you will with that," I answered, my voice trembling but my conviction stood strong.

"You do have a strong moral sense; just like your father did," the queen remarked, her gaze now softer than before.

"You knew my father?"

"Yes, many ages ago. He was a dear friend of mine and to all fairies in this realm. Has your mother not spoken of him?"

"She did, but little. You mentioned his name, what was it?"

"Cyrus."

"The hero of the Fey, Cyrus?" I asked, taken aback.

"Yes, indeed. A hero he was. But more importantly, he was a friend. You remind me of him, and for that, I will put my trust in you and believe your story. However, as a ruler, I cannot let you walk freely; you will face trial first thing tomorrow at dawn."

"Thank you, Your Grace?"

"Please, no need for honorifics. As the son of Cyrus, you bow to no fairy," the queen replied, her smile radiant and gracious.

A commotion could be heard outside the hall.

"Let me see him immediately! He did no wrong, you hear me! Hey, let go of the lute!" Silas's voice echoed through the room.

"Let him in!" the queen commanded.

The gate opened, allowing a flood of sunlight to illuminate the room as Silas entered, protesting loudly.

"Give me back my lute! It's precious to me!" Silas demanded from a guard.

"That lute is a weapon, and you know it. As a queen, I cannot let outsiders carry weapons in my home," the queen responded firmly.

"Your Majesty," Silas said with a sarcastic half-bow, reminiscent of a jester's farewell.

Upon seeing Silas, a smile spread across my face. Suddenly, my burdens felt lighter, and hopes for a brighter future replaced my dark thoughts, knowing that I had a friend by my side.