From somewhere within, the cavern echoes with a faint, rumbling beat. Like distant thunder, the sound intensifies as it nears, clearing, morphing into a chaotic symphony of pulsing wind and rustling wings.

I swear to god, if I have to fight more bats…

Then, out from a tunnel explodes a whirlwind of feathers and shadows. Countless birds fly, so small, so fine, they’re like a red mist clouding over the cavern ceiling before descending on our group.

I catch one in my sights, and the world slows as a description appears.

Foul Bird (Lv 2)

From the tale of Bricriu's Feast comes this fine-feathered friend, a small red bird that emits a withering breath, decaying all it touches. Earth notes that it voted for demonic pigs. We believe this qualifies as a compromise.

And then the swarm is upon us.

There’s no rhyme or reason to fighting a battle like this. Whatever action plan we’ve employed until now falls in the face of complete fucking chaos. Forget calling our shots and tanking and picking off adds. It’s every man for himself.

Elias acts first as he executes his clash attack, charging forward. His axe is poised, but his body is the weapon. He’s a train ramming into a mosquito swarm. Birds quite literally explode as he wipes out every foe in his path.

At the same time, Luci nocks an arrow and aims high. Her new ability is priceless here. She looses an arrow, tearing through a line of birds. Then, before her targets fall, she recalls it. The arrow zips backwards, the air warping around it like a missile. In a line, birds thud to the floor. As the arrow returns to her bow, Luci stumbles back with the recoil, but it’s under control. Nocked again, she lets it fly.

Meanwhile, Ron just starts poking his halberd haphazardly, somehow managing to spear a couple birds like a kebab despite his thoroughly random aim. I’d tell him to just break out the gittern, but there’s no way he’d hear me.

Turns out it doesn’t matter. One of the birds opens its beak and lets out a visibly foul breath, just a dusty, fecal-looking cloud right into his face. Dropping his weapon, Ron bats it away while the meat of his cheeks starts to wither, leaving behind little wilted pockmarks. Eesh. Hopefully, he’ll recover quickly.

This all occurs in the span of maybe five seconds. I’m about to launch my own attack; I’m thinking maybe shadowstep into the air behind a random bird, start swiping, teleport back before I fall, try not to get impaled by an arrow or crushed by an Elias in the meantime.

But the birds haven’t noticed me from this position.

Nor has the fairy commanding them.

Behind the torrent of feathers, a figure materializes. I catch only glimpses at first, but I manage to sneak closer, one step carefully crossed over the other, until I can see him more clearly.

I was wrong about the grotto being beautiful.

This man. This man is beautiful. And he shouldn’t be. He has no right to be so beautiful. His skin is almost a metallic silver, his long hair stark-white. His legs are too long. His fingers are too long. He’s haunting, closer to a ghost than a man. But I can’t look away. Those cheekbones could cut glass. His deep, emerald eyes could drown me. He’s 1000 years old and 20 years old at once.

Like the structures interwoven with the cavern, the man and the environment appear as one. He’s clothed in nature, gossamer webs hanging from his arms like sleeves, a spongy veil of morels and moss winding up his legs and across his torso as though they grew from his very pores. The stone floor bends with his steps, and the mushrooms bow.

Sidhe Beast Tamer (Lv 15)

Neither gods nor ungodlike, the faeries of Ireland are known as the fae, the fair folk, the Aos Sidhe, or simply the Sidhe - a name born from the sacred mounds under which they live. They are perfect, whimsical figures, yet strangely enrapt with the human world. This individual type of Sidhe specializes in commanding the beasts inside, outside, and between realms.

Alright, so I can’t stealth-kill him. His level’s too high, and I’m pretty sure his neck is too. While it’s difficult to judge, the fairy appears to be even taller than Ron. So that’s out. However I can still get the drop on him, mess him up a little, then retreat.

Oh, but I don’t want to scar that heavenly flesh. There isn’t a blemish on it. It must be so soft. We don’t have to fight. Not really. Perhaps if we could talk? Though I’m sure his angelic voice would be too much for my mortal ears. If only I could-

Wait.

Oh no, it’s the dungeon all over again. But this is worse. Far worse. It’s as though the guy radiates charm. His mere presence is clearly messing with my brain, which would certainly fit the bill for a capricious fairy.

He’s just so perfect. Look at those eyes.

Fucking hell, I need to stab him.

Without giving it another thought, I shadowstep behind him and, with an icepick grip, I tear my poison dagger across his flawless back. Perfect glistening red blood weeps from his torn flesh, the acidic stink of the toxins intermixing with the floral aroma of-

Goddamit, get a grip, Helen!

I jab the blade three more times, one stab blurring into the next, before he spins around.

Oh, wow. That face is even more exquisite up close. That nose, as though sculpted by-

There’s a crack, a sharp pain in my chest, then my back smashes against the cave wall.

For a moment, I can’t breathe. I wheeze, aching for air. My head swims as I look up. The fairy stands erect, palm outstretched. Small beads of sour-green foam run down his neck, pooling around his collarbone. So at least the poison is working.

Then he takes a step toward me, the stone molding to the shape of his perfect feet. The birds swarm behind him like a crimson crown-

Nope.

My chest screams as I teleport back.

I tuck myself behind the pillar, praying he doesn’t see me until I can recover. I think my rib is broken. Maybe a collapsed lung. Every breath comes with a sharp stab.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

It’s only now that I see the notification blinking in the corner of my vision.

New Status!

Entranced: Looking at the enemy causes you to lose focus. Effect lasts for 2 seconds and renews on line of sight.

Well, yeah, no shit.

Curling around the other side of the pillar, I locate the others. The winged horde is thinning. My party will have eyes on the fairy soon, in which case we’re all getting entranced. Elias is going to be so embarrassed.

It’s becoming easier to breathe now. Maybe with enough lung power, I can yell at Ron to use his gittern. That halberd is not doing him any favors. The big guy was clearly born for a bludgeon.

Hold up. I’d totally forgotten about his gittern!

“Ron!” I scream. Ow, that hurts. “Ron!”

He can’t hear me. Fuck it. Wincing, I scoop up a loose rock and chuck it at him. As Ron twirls around, I wave him down.

He continues to thrust at the sky as he bumbles back toward my position. “What’s up, lady?”

Oh, dear god. The man’s face. It’s a mess of sores and lesions, pus leaking from rotting cracks spidering across his cheeks. Some of the wounds are already healing; the skin is knitting itself anew, tiny splotches of baby pink skin intermixed with brown decay. Still. That can’t feel great.

“You need to use your gittern.”

“Good idea, man!” The halberd pops into his inventory. He wrestles the gittern strap up and over his shoulders. Behind him, a bird swoops in, laying down a stream of fetid air on the back of Ron’s head. Whirling around, he smacks it clean out of the air, leaving feathers in its wake. One of them gets in his mouth. Sputtering, he spits it out.

At least that seems to be the last of the birds.

“Yeah, that’s way better!” he exclaims, loose hair dropping from his scalp in clumps.

“I mean, play it.” I make a strumming motion. “There’s a fairy. No- don’t look. He’s got an aura. Your music removes the effects.”

“Whoa, really?” he replies, gazing at his gittern in awe. “What should I play?”

Shit, it’s already started. With the birds gone, the fairy has found his marks. I can see him now, just down the path. He’s wading through a carpet of avian corpses towards a thoroughly entranced Elias. There’s an arrow sticking out of the fairy’s eye, so at least Luci got a hit in before she, too, became enthralled. Now, she’s standing dumbstruck behind her uncle, the bow lax in her grip.

Despite the fairy’s aura, Elias manages to swing his battleaxe in an overhand arc. But it’s sluggish. Half-hearted.

The fairy catches the axe, the blade stopping an inch from his head. Those beautiful, slender fingers delicately curl around the grip. He’s so lithe, so graceful, no longer dulled by that evil, tainted blade of mine. It’s a relief. His poor eye has already been so cruelly savaged. To think of hewing that impeccable skull, blood spilling over his snow-white-

“Helen?”

“Huh?” Oh, goddammit. “Yeah, whatever. Play anything! The ABCs.”

“ABCs? I don’t know that one.”

“But you already played- Argh, fine. Stairway to Heaven.”

“Oh, that’s a good ‘un!” He sets the strap back over his shoulders and begins to pluck the first notes. It’s a quiet, sweet little instrument. But with the birds gone, the song immediately fills the cavern.

New Status!

Serenaded: All emotional statuses are nullified.

Its lilting tune sinks deep down into my bones, awakening my heart, purifying my mind.

Elias’ eyes widen with clarity. He heaves, wrestling the axe from the fairy’s grasp. But the weapon’s too heavy to follow it up with an attack.

Again, the fairy strikes out with his palm. Yet it isn’t nearly as affective. Elias merely stumbles, but he still ends up on his ass.

Another arrow punches through the fairy’s chest. His fortitude must be shit; the fletching’s all the way down to his skin.

Sore but healed, I hop to my feet. “Keep playing!” I shout.

In a blink, I’m behind the enemy. This time, I’m clearheaded and precise. I strike at his armpit with my dagger, tugging him downward, before I jam my scian into his side.

The knife cuts like he’s butter. I don’t know what it impales: his spleen? His kidneys? His stomach? Maybe I should study a little anatomy when I’m back in Pharos.

Whatever the case, it’s a shit ton of guts. I tear my knife out his front, splitting his intestines open. He’s dead before he even hits the floor.

1.

Enemy Defeated:

Sidhe Beast Tamer (Lv 15) [Shared with Luciana, Elias, Ron]

Exp: 19

Earned: 94g

2.

Level up! You are now Level 12.

Exp to next level: 1/120

Attribute points available: 3

3.

Title(s) Earned:

Unbeliever: Kill a fairy.

Reward: (1) Home Decor Item

4.

Skill Proficiencies Increased:

Melee Weapon Handling 8

I watch as the cavern claims the fairy’s corpse. His innards sink into the cracks of the cave floor while his hair disintegrates into the air. The tufts of moss and morels that once formed the fairy’s clothes gradually eat away at his skin, then slink back to the edges of the fractured stone, joining the mushrooms that line our path.

It’s sort of beautiful, in a way… Also, are we walking on fairy corpses?

“Thirty-two birds, oh my god,” Luci boasts. “‘Nother level for me!”

“Nice work,” I say. “Where are you putting your stat points?”

“Uh, I don’t know. I mean, my dexterity is kinda building up on its own…”

“If it helps, I’m adding mine to fortitude. Turns out I can’t always dodge an attack.”

“Cool. I’ll do that too.” She plucks a gummy arrow from what still remains of the fairy, examines it, then tosses it back to the ground. The other arrow, she waves at Elias. “Can someone get this off for me?”

Hesitantly, her uncle takes it. His brow furrows as he tries to figure out the best way to pry an eyeball off of an arrowhead. Finally, he wraps his hand in the ends of his flannel sleeve and gives it a shot. It’s quite a lot like pulling a stick out of a half-roasted marshmallow.

“I’ve added three to dexterity and the other three to fortitude,” Elias adds, returning the arrow. His shirt has the unique ability to quick-dry, but he still wipes it off on a stalagmite.

“Ron, maybe add yours to dexterity too?” I suggest. “Might give you a little more maneuverability.”

“Oops. Already stashed mine into the ‘tude.”

“All good,” I reply. “That was great playing, Ron.”

Hand over his chest, Ron performs a flourishing bow. His cheeks are tinged with pink but otherwise back to normal.

With our points allocated, we continue deeper into the fairy grotto. Again, Elias takes the lead, with Luci and Ron lagging somewhat behind. Meanwhile, I return to the outer ledges, but it only lasts a few minutes.

The walls inch closer, the ceiling dips lower. Soon, the cavern narrows into a tunnel, our only path balancing near the edge of a stream that appears to be as shallow as dishwater or as deep as the ocean, depending on the angle. If I close one eye, it doesn’t appear to be there at all.

Along the walls, sheets of smooth calcite hang like frozen waterfalls, the drip, drip, drip of water constant as it flows over the rocks and into the subterranean spring.

It’s darker here. Quieter. Heat envelops us like a warm embrace. Wisps of magic hover in the air, their pulsing glimmer our only light. The stream burbles onward in the shadows.

You’d think after intestines and eyeballs and blood and decay, the cavern would lose its charm. Certainly, it would seem less soothing, less wondrous as the walls converge around us. Instead, I’m still enrapt by its beauty. It’s tranquil, simple, enchanting, haunting.

I don’t know if it’s the magic. I don’t know if it’s my team. Maybe I just like a little horror. Away from judging eyes, somewhere deep below civilization, where chaos reigns, and our only path is the one set before us.

This where I belong.

Behind us, a pair of glowing verdant eyes blink.

Something like a child laughs.

So maybe it’s not completely perfect.