Sugar Apple Fairytale - Volume 6 - Chapter 5.1

Chapter 5

THE ONE WHO WOULD BE FAIRY KING

Royal guards stood around a Lewiston candy shop on the outskirts of the West Marketplace, preventing onlookers from getting too close. A little ways away, a crowd anxiously gazed at the shop’s entrance.

Two people emerged from the building—the Silver Sugar Viscount, Hugh Mercury, and the Earl of Downing.

“This is the doing of that fairy, wouldn’t you say?” Hugh asked.

The Earl of Downing nodded, a bitter look on his face. “Over the course of the past year, there have been sporadic attacks against fairy hunters and fairy dealers, but… Recently, the number of incidents has only been increasing. This, too, must be the work of that fairy and his gang. The methods are the same as before. We must do something about him and quickly. But we don’t have a single clue. How is the search going? Did you find the fairy dealer in Millsfield whom the Paige Workshop girl said she purchased him from?”

“We found him, but he was a corpse,” Hugh answered flatly. “Along with his whole family, just like here. We think the fairy took his family hostage in order to ensure cooperation, then killed them anyway.”

“How brutal.” The Earl of Downing groaned.

The earl was a veteran retainer who had personally led troops into battle in support of the current king. Yet the terrible scene in the candy shop had still gotten to him.

“These incidents span the Sant, Charmae, and Harrington Provinces, and none of them have any idea what to do. I’ll have to be the one to chase him down.”

The Earl of Downing was the current governor of Charmae Province.

Aristocrats serving the royal family each had a role to carry out. Nobles related to the Millsland family by blood became premiers or generals in charge of the royal army, or they took on a number of other duties important to the crown. Those not part of the king’s bloodline received appointments from the royal family and were tasked with running the various provinces of Highland or serving as government ministers and bureaucrats.

The Silver Sugar Viscount, however, held a unique position.

Normally, aristocrats were attended by knights and retainers under their command. But the Silver Sugar Viscount had no such retainers. He was merely granted use of Silver Westol Castle and the guards who came with it, all of which were on loan from the king. Compared with the kingdom’s other aristocrats, the Silver Sugar Viscount carried little military weight.

However, the Silver Sugar Viscount was responsible for making sugar candy for the king. It was rumored that his position, which allowed him to have frequent, personal discussions with the monarch, held more influence than any governor’s. For that reason, the kingdom’s other nobles preferred that the title of Silver Sugar Viscount fell to meek, cooperative, and unambitious individuals.

To further ensure that the Silver Sugar Viscount didn’t foolishly involve himself in politics, the Earl of Downing was assigned to monitor him. The Earl of Downing, too, held a special position among his peers. Though the earl was not related to the king by blood, he received the same treatment as a blood relative. Because of that, he could, with the king’s permission, borrow soldiers from the royal army and mobilize them at will.

Typically, the governor of each province was responsible for handling disturbances and disputes within their territory. However, when a problem affected multiple provinces, their governors were supposed to consult on the matter. But for an incident spanning three provinces, simply getting all three governors to show up and work together was an ordeal.

Since the current problem affected Charmae Province, the Earl of Downing—whom the royal family trusted above all others—was the obvious choice. Moreover, the incident involved a request from the Silver Sugar Viscount related to candy crafters. It seemed the other governors were in agreement that only the Earl of Downing was fit to handle the matter.

How very fortunate, Hugh thought fleetingly.

In Charmae Province alone, the culprit had attacked a fairy dealer, a fairy hunter, and a candy crafter. Because of that, the Earl of Downing had naturally become involved.

If Charmae Province had not been affected, the other governors might have been reluctant to allow the Earl of Downing to meddle in their provinces’ affairs, despite the Silver Sugar Viscount’s request. In that case, it would have taken time to persuade each of them to cooperate.

We’ll be able to chase after him much quicker this way. That alone is a great stroke of luck.

Despite that, they couldn’t afford to be optimistic. Fairy dealers and fairy hunters were being assaulted one after another. Now even a candy crafter’s shop had been attacked, and still, they had no leads. The culprits appeared suddenly and left like the wind, without a trace. Hugh wondered how Anne was faring in their clutches. Was she still safe?

“Brutal and careful, too,” said Hugh with a heavy sigh.

His gaze fell to the ground. But after he stared at the cobblestones for a moment, his eyes suddenly opened wide. Then he slowly looked up, as if searching for something, and fixed his gaze firmly on the western sky.

“…It can’t be.”

“What is it, Mercury?” asked the earl.

Hugh looked back at him. “Lord Downing, I’ve found a clue.”

After a sound so faint it could hardly be called a knock, the door opened, and the little fairy Lusul El Min peeked into the room.

“Hee-hee-hee. Here you are!”

She entered, grinning like a mischievous child.

Ever since Lusul El Min found out that Anne and Challe were staying in the fort, she had visited Anne’s room nearly every night. She didn’t come to do anything in particular—she just liked to walk in circles around Anne and Challe as they sat in front of the hearth and chatter childishly at them.

“Everyone in the fort is a good person, but…they’re not exactly beautiful to look at. This room is different, though. It’s captivating. Anne, you’re cute, of course, but, Challe—you’re wonderful. I never get tired of watching you.”

These were the sorts of things Lusul talked about. It wasn’t that she had a special fondness for Challe—rather, she enjoyed observing him as she would a beautiful flower.

As he stared into the fire crackling in the hearth, Challe said offhandedly, “Lafalle is beautiful, too, if only on the outside.”

Lusul smiled awkwardly. “Lord Lafalle is very beautiful, but I’m too afraid to stare at him.”

When Anne heard that, she found herself hating Lafalle more and more.

Lafalle held his people’s lives in his grasp, and they feared even looking at him. She didn’t think a king like that was much of a king at all. He was just a tyrant.

“What’s happening to the fairies Lafalle and I bring here?” asked Challe.

“Oh, them? Well, they’re pretty quiet, but they say being with us is better than being enslaved by humans. They say that a lot.”

“Better, huh?” Challe laughed scornfully.

“There are already more than fifty of them here. It’s getting hard to feed them all. Before long, Lord Lafalle will probably make some kind of move. Don’t you know anything, Challe?”

“Nope. I’ve just been enslaved by him, same as all of you.”

“We’re not enslaved,” Lusul mumbled in distress, but Challe didn’t let up.

“What’s the difference?” he demanded. “I’ve been enslaved by humans before. This is just the same. Someone’s got a hold of my wing, and they order me around.”

Sensing Challe’s irritation and unhappiness, Lusul looked anxiously at Anne.

To reassure her, Anne said, “Challe isn’t angry at you, Lusul.”

Lusul looked relieved.

It was the tenth day since Anne and Challe had been brought to the fort. Anne was constantly wondering about the Paige Workshop’s progress. She was concerned, too, about the melancholy look on Challe’s face as he quietly sat beside her.

Challe was on the floor with one knee up, staring fixedly into the fire. In the light of the flames, his eyelashes cast dark shadows onto his cheeks. His wing was tinted a soft orange, but somehow, the color seemed to lack vitality.

When Anne saw Challe in this gloomy state, she was always reminded of the way he looked when he talked about Liz. And then Lafalle’s words would ring in her ears.

“You’ll only make him unhappy,” he had said.

Challe had promised to stay with Anne and protect her because he was kind. She was sure he was doing it because she depended on him and because it was obvious that his promise made her happy. But if keeping his promise would make Challe unhappy, then perhaps Anne should encourage him to live with the fairies, his own species.

However, she didn’t want him living with craven companions like Lafalle.

Another gemstone fairy, but someone kinder and more honest. Someone really nice.

They could be quartz or ruby, sapphire or jade. She didn’t care what kind of gemstone they came from. Anne imagined that a beautiful, kind, and elegant fairy woman born from one of those would be a good match for Challe. If he could meet a fairy like that and start a relationship with her, that might be for the best.

But just imagining it caused Anne’s chest to hurt and made her hopelessly sad.

I want to be with him forever.

Some part of her couldn’t help feeling that way.

“Oh, is this silver sugar?” asked Lusul. “I wonder why it’s in a place like this.”

She had been wandering around the room and noticed the barrel of silver sugar.

“I am a candy crafter, you know. I made candy for Lafalle, but…”

At Lafalle’s demand, Anne had made two pieces of sugar candy since coming to the fort.

For the first one, she made a white flower. She had no colored powders, so the whole piece was pure white. Lafalle hadn’t seemed pleased with it, and he soon acquired vials of colored powder and a full set of tools from somewhere.

The tools, along with a barrel of cold water and the colored-powder vials, had been neatly arranged near the sugar barrel. With everything prepared, Anne should have been able to make proper sugar candies.

But she hadn’t been able to craft as well as usual.

Lafalle had ordered her to make fyffe pieces just like the ones the Silver Sugar Viscount had made. But Anne couldn’t quite get the results she wanted. No matter how many times she tried to get the shapes right, she couldn’t achieve the correct balance. And the colors, for some reason, were coming out oddly, too. Three days earlier, she had struggled to make one of the horse pieces, and when she showed the finished candy to Lafalle, he broke it without even tasting it. Ever since then, she had stopped working altogether. She didn’t even feel like touching the silver sugar.

“What’s candy?” Lusul tilted her head in puzzlement.

“You don’t know?” Anne asked. “It’s a treat made from silver sugar.”

“I’ve never seen any.”

“Oh, really? Well then, how about I make some for you?”

“Wow, would you?”

“Sure.”

Anne stood up. Lusul watched her excitedly.

I want to show her something really pretty.

For the first time in a while, Anne was in high spirits.

After chilling her hands in the bucket of cold water, she scooped some silver sugar from the barrel and spread it out on top of a slab sitting on the floor. Then she added more cold water and began to knead.

Lusul, who was watching her intently, spoke up. “That’s amazing! The silver sugar is getting all shiny and forming balls. What kind of magic are you using?”

“It’s not magic. This is the craft I was talking about.”

The fairy’s naïveté was charming. Using a sharp, slender knife, Anne cut out threadlike stalks and jagged leaves. She blended purple and blue powders and made bright, glossy berries. Then she attached the little berries in a cluster, poking out from under a leaf.

Lusul’s eyes lit up.

“Why, these are the berries from which I was born! This really is magic!”

“Go on. Taste it.”

At that, Lusul looked up at her as if to ask if it was truly all right. Anne nodded, and Lusul touched the berries. One of the berries was gently enveloped in soft light, then it crumbled into nothing and was absorbed into her tiny palm. After letting out a deep sigh, Lusul looked surprised.

“That’s amazing! It’s so sweet. And somehow, I feel more energetic. Hey, I wonder if I could take this and give it to some of the others. A few of them are injured, and I bet if they eat it, they’ll feel better.”

The “others” Lusul was talking about were the warrior fairies. Lusul had been put in charge of looking after their daily needs.

“Sure. That’s fine. If it’s not enough, I’ll make more.”

“Wow, you’re really nice! Thank you!”

Lusul left happily.

After working with silver sugar and seeing how happy Lusul looked, Anne felt more energetic than she had in a while.

Challe peered at her face and chuckled. “It really does put you in a good mood to work with silver sugar, huh?”

“You can go ahead and call me simple or whatever. I know you want to. And it’s true.”

She sat down beside Challe, and he turned slightly to face her.

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” he said. “You’re just acting like yourself.”

The light of the swaying flames flickered over Challe’s eyelashes as his black eyes fixed on Anne. They were so deep and dark, they seemed like they might swallow her up.

“Challe, have you ever met a female fairy born from a gemstone?” Anne gave in to the sudden urge to ask.

“I have,” he replied. “Many times.”

“And…were there any you liked?”

“What’s this about, all of a sudden?”

“Nothing. Just wondering if there were any gemstone fairy women you happened to like…”

If Challe’s heart had been drawn to another fairy in the past, Anne wondered if it might be best to try to find her again. Then she and Challe might fall in love and be happy together. That was what Anne wanted to say, but she felt as if something was caught in the back of her throat. Her words wouldn’t come out right.

Challe’s eyes wavered; he looked puzzled. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m not sure how to put it, but I… Challe, you said you would be with me forever, and I’m incredibly happy about that. But I’m not sure if it’s right for me to take advantage of your promise. I don’t want to force you to do anything, and I want you to be happy. So if you—”

“Anne,” said Challe, cutting her off before she could say anything else. “You can take me at my word.”

Then he gently touched her cheek with one hand. He was incredibly close. Slowly, he leaned in toward her face. She could feel his breath on her lips.

“Anne.”

The voice calling her name was sweet and sad. Anne’s eyes were wide open, and she couldn’t move.

What on Earth is this? A kiss? It couldn’t be!

But suddenly—

“You’ll only make him unhappy.”

—Lafalle’s voice rang in her ears once more, and Anne backed away.

At the same time, Challe pulled his hand from her face, looking as if he had just remembered something.

They both averted their eyes.

The words that Anne had mumbled, about wanting Challe to be happy, had conveyed more than simple affection for a trusted bodyguard. He was sure he’d sensed something like love lurking behind them. And when he realized that, Challe had lost control over his own emotions. He had touched her cheek and had been about to kiss her. But he hadn’t been able to do it.

Something had hindered both of them.

The moment Anne pulled back in surprise, Challe remembered Lafalle’s words.

“You’ll only make Anne unhappy.”

He’d shuddered with the thought that his touch might consign Anne to some miserable fate, and he’d quickly pulled his hand away from her cheek.

When he encountered her just a year earlier, he probably wouldn’t have balked at killing her if he needed to. Recalling that, he felt a swell of disgust toward his past self. He wondered if it was all right for a person like him to touch Anne. Because of Lafalle’s words and his own disgust at the person he’d been only a year before, Challe was beginning to believe he should keep his distance from Anne.

I mustn’t touch her.

The greater his love for her grew, the more untouchable she became. Some things were like that, he figured.

From that night forward, Challe did his best not to get too close to Anne. And he felt that Anne was doing the same, carefully keeping her distance from him.

“Can I come in? Is anyone injured today?”

Anne peered into a large room lined with simple wooden platforms that only barely passed for beds.

The brawny warrior fairies, who were all in a huddle in the back of the room, turned to look at her. Then Lusul came bounding nimbly out from among them.

“Anne, thank goodness. Today, we have a few people who are really hurt!” Lusul’s eyebrows drooped with concern, and Anne nodded.

“I brought some sugar candies. I made these this afternoon.”

“Wow, this many?!”

When Anne held out the plank of wood she’d brought with her, Lusul’s eyes lit up. Arranged on the plank were a dozen pieces of sugar candy that Anne had made. There were flowers, butterflies, and berries, as well as snowflakes, kittens, and songbirds. She’d used all her spare time to make them.

Just like Challe, the warrior fairies in the fort went out with Lafalle every day.

Challe had never been injured, but apparently, the warrior fairies frequently came back wounded. This worried Lusul, so Anne had started making sugar candy for them.

When she had nothing to do, she couldn’t stop fretting over Challe and the Paige Workshop, which only depressed her. But kneading silver sugar distracted her and was much better than glumly sitting around holding her knees to her chest.

Moreover, the warrior fairies were just like Challe—somebody else had control of their wings. They were probably being ordered to do things they didn’t want to. If they were getting hurt as a result, she wanted to help them recover.

When Anne tried to make sugar candy for Lafalle, the result was never as beautiful as she expected. Maybe it was because she was so nervous. She always felt sad as she worked.

But when she made candy for Lusul and the warrior fairies, her hands practically moved on their own, crafting exactly what she wanted to make. She felt relaxed and carefree, almost like she was playing with the sugar. And yet strangely, the candy always came out well. She enjoyed the process.

Delighted, Lusul called back into the room, “Hey, we’ve got sugar candy! Pass these to the people in the back!”

At her words, one of the warrior fairies sluggishly approached them.

“Okay, here you go.” With a smile, Anne handed over the board bearing the sugar candies.

The warrior fairy frowned, creases forming on his forehead. After a few moments looking back and forth between Anne and the candies, he said angrily, “This will help.”

Still looking glum, he turned his back to them and returned to the rear of the room.

“Was he angry just now?” Anne tilted her head in confusion, and Lusul giggled.

“He’s grateful, despite how he looks. But these guys hate saying thank you to humans. I don’t understand it, since I was never enslaved by humans, but they all say that they really hate them.”

“Oh, I see.”

That reminded Anne of when Mithril had insisted on coming along with them to repay her. He had declared, “I’ll repay the favor, but I’ll never say thanks as long as I live!”

Anne felt a little tickle in the back of her nose at the memory.

Mithril Lid Pod. I wonder if he’s lonely.

When she stopped to think about it, Anne realized that, for the past year, she hadn’t been separated from Mithril Lid Pod for longer than three days.

Even when Challe left with Bridget, Mithril had always been by her side, cheering her on. She missed the energetic little fairy dearly.

She also wondered if the Paige Workshop’s job was progressing well. She trusted that they would keep working, no matter what happened. But they were shorthanded and probably full of anxiety and apprehension.

More than fifteen days had passed since Anne arrived at the fort. The air was cold, the grass was dead, and the sky was gray and cloudy—all signs that they were in the dead of winter. In less than one month, it would be time for the First Holy Festival. Anne hoped that they would somehow finish in time.

“Are you all right?” Lusul asked. “What’s the matter?”

Anne must have been making a sad face; Lusul sounded concerned.

“It’s nothing,” Anne replied. “I just want to get back quickly and do what I’m supposed to be doing. Are the rest of you all right with being here? With your wings in someone else’s hands, unable to do what you want to do or go where you want to go?”

“What else would we want to do?”

“Isn’t there anything you can think of?”

“Let me see… Not really. Hey, does anyone here have something they want to do?”

When Lusul posed the question to the room, the warrior fairies all tilted their heads in puzzlement or shrugged. Then one of them slowly began to speak, as if a thought had just occurred to him.

“Uh… I’ve never seen the ocean. I’d like to see it.”

“Never mind the ocean,” someone else said. “That’s boring. I’d go find a nice girl. A gemstone girl would be good.”

Another fairy laughed. “With a face like yours, any girl you find will just run away.”

“I’d like to find my old fairy friends. Hopefully, they’re alive, but…”

One after another, the warrior fairies spoke up.

Lusul looked confused. “What’s the ocean?”

“You don’t know, Lusul? The ocean is like a giant pool of water. It’s so huge that the whole Kingdom of Highland could fit neatly inside it.”

“Well! That’s awful! Everyone would drown!”

Lusul was horrified, and all the warrior fairies burst out laughing.

Seeing them like that, Anne smiled a little. Even the big brawny fairies weren’t all that different from the candy crafters back at the Paige Workshop.

“I wish I could take all your wings back for you,” Anne said without thinking. “Then you could all be free.”

The warrior fairies looked at one another in surprise.

“Free?” one of them asked. “We’re out of human hands now. Isn’t this freedom?”

“I mean, how is this different from being enslaved? All that’s changed is that now, instead of a human, your owner is the fairy king.”

The fairies frowned, as if they had been struck by a difficult problem.

Do they even realize? she wondered.

Lafalle had been gathering warrior fairies under the banner of fairy liberation. And those fairies, who had long been enslaved, had agreed to fight for the cause. But the very fairies fighting to free their brethren were themselves unfree. They had to have realized that on some level.

Stars glistened sharply in the dark winter sky. After finishing his work, Keith stepped out into the garden of Hollyleaf Castle and looked up. More than twenty days had passed since Anne and Challe were taken, and the Paige Workshop hadn’t gotten any updates on their whereabouts. They had repeatedly sent letters to the Silver Sugar Viscount asking about the situation, but it seemed he was traveling, and they had yet to receive a reply.

Anne might never come back.

Keith’s anxiety only grew as he gazed up at the darkness above. He was frightened; he couldn’t help it.

The candy crafters were continuing their work, trusting that Anne would somehow come back to them. Keith tended to space out, and even Kat had scolded him, saying, “Don’t think about it. Just get to work.”

When Keith had opened up and said a few words about his worries to Mithril, the little fairy had put on an extremely serious face and insisted that Anne would be fine because she had Challe Fenn Challe with her.

Even so, Keith couldn’t shake his anxiety.

“You’ll catch a cold standing outside in such thin clothes,” said a voice from behind. “Why don’t you go on to bed?”

Keith turned around in surprise to find Jonas. He was wearing a big lumpy overcoat and carrying a steaming cup of tea in his hands. The fairy Cathy was riding on his shoulder, desperately trying to pull the overcoat’s hood over Jonas’s head.

The coat and tea were probably Cathy’s doing. The small fairy was so overprotective of her master that it was almost funny.

“You’re right,” Keith said. “I’ll head in.”

But just then, Keith became curious about what Jonas thought of their situation. Jonas seemed to have a complicated history with Anne. But for the same reason, perhaps he could see the matter more objectively than the Paige Workshop crafters and Mithril Lid Pod, without any wishful thinking.

“Jonas, um… Do you think Anne is going to make it back?”

Jonas’s lips twisted a little, and Cathy frowned anxiously.

After thinking for a moment, Jonas replied, “She’s definitely coming back.”

“What makes you think that?” Keith asked. “More than twenty days have passed without a single lead. And it’s so cold out.”

“Because Anne is…stubborn.”

The wind blew, and the thicket of bare winter trees rustled noisily. Jonas shifted his gaze around like he was trying to follow the sound of the wind.

“She’s stubborn,” he continued, “and she’s persistent and a fool. So no matter what happens, she’ll be fine, don’t you think?” Even as he insulted her, Jonas seemed to be desperately searching for words of hope.

Keith looked at him and smiled. “You’re right again, Jonas.”

Anne would hate to hear that he’d agreed on something with Jonas, of all people, but he nodded all the same.

“Are you going to stay at the Paige Workshop for good, Jonas?” he asked.

Jonas stared down into the cup in his hands. “I’ll… Once the First Holy Festival is over, I’ll go back to the Radcliffe Workshop.”

“You will? That’s not what I expected. Why did you decide to do that?”

“I know I’ll never be needed while you’re there, Keith. But…but I want to try to make an effort for a little while. Just this once. For myself.”

“Trying to be stubborn like Anne?” Keith teased him a little, and Jonas turned bright red.

“No! No, that’s not it,” Jonas insisted. “I just wanted to, that’s all.”

“Mm. It’s a great idea, Jonas.”

Keith nodded and turned his gaze back toward the starry sky.

“You don’t have to worry about me,” he said. “By the time you go back, I won’t be there anymore.”

Every day, Lafalle left the fort. He always took four or five warrior fairies with him—a different group every time. Challe was the only one he always ordered to accompany him.

Lafalle attacked fairy dealers and fairy hunters in order to gather more of their kind under his banner.

From time to time, he brought back worker fairies as well to do odd jobs around the castle. But for the most part, he was only after burly warrior fairies. He killed or routed the humans who owned them and took possession of the fairies’ wings.

Those wings were placed in a sturdy box with a lock on it. Lafalle kept the box in his private quarters, and the key was always on his person.

Challe’s wing was the only one that Lafalle carried with him at all times. He was clearly taking special precautions with it.

The great majority of the fairies went obediently with Lafalle. But sometimes, a fairy would refuse him. When that happened, Lafalle ordered Challe to cut them down.

It was unpleasant to kill one of his own, and attacking humans saddened him, too.

In the past, Challe had never thought about such things, but now he wondered what each person he slaughtered was thinking, whom they loved, and what they were living for. He couldn’t put such thoughts from his mind.

Sometimes, he even imagined that the humans he killed were Anne and her comrades from the Paige Workshop.

More than a month had gone by since he and Anne came to the fort, and the fairy ranks had swelled.

There have to be around sixty of them by now.

It seemed that once Challe started helping them, their raids were much more successful than when it had been only Lafalle and a few warrior fairies.

That day, yet again, Challe was covered in blood.

The blood of his victims stuck to his body—from his left cheek down his neck, all the way to the tips of his hair, on his left shoulder, and up both arms. It smelled awful.

One of the fairies fighting alongside him had been injured. It didn’t seem serious enough to endanger his life, but the wound was deep.

The sky was dark, and it had been snowing. A light dusting of white had started to accumulate on the dried grass and bare tree branches. It had snowed several times since he and Anne had come to the fort, but it always quickly melted away, never sticking.

That day, however, the snow was different. It covered their surroundings in the blink of an eye and didn’t seem likely to melt. If the snow continued all night, then by the following morning, the wilderness would be transformed into a world of pure white.

When their party returned to the fort, the other fairies got off their horses, supporting their wounded companion on their shoulders.

Challe also dismounted and started to head to the well to douse himself with water. But before he could go, one of the fairies called out to him from behind.

“Hey.”

The other fairies rarely spoke to him. He didn’t know whether Lafalle had said something to them or if it was merely a reaction to seeing him wield his sword, but they also appeared a bit frightened of him.

When Challe turned around, the fairy lowered his voice and spoke hesitantly.

“Tell that girl, please. If she could…”

“That girl?”

“The one with you, the human girl. Please tell her that one of us is hurt. If she can, ask her to make us more sugar candies today. She can give them to Lusul.”

“Sugar candies?”

Challe frowned, and the other fairies stepped back in surprise.

“I mean, she doesn’t have to. I just thought, if she could…”

Ever since the day Anne made a piece of candy for Lusul, Challe had noticed her assiduously kneading lumps of silver sugar and found it unusual that he never saw the finished pieces. Apparently, Lusul had been bringing whatever candy Anne made to the warrior fairies.

Anne had probably been using all her free time to make candy at Lusul’s request. Even here, she was still making sugar candy.

Good grief. She never stops.

Challe smiled a little, shocking the other fairies.

“I’ll tell her,” he said, before turning his back to them.

The well Challe was headed to was underground, beneath the fort.

A set of stone stairs led down to a gloomy, damp room with the well in the center. Near the ceiling, just about at ground level outside, was a small, high window, through which a few withered weeds were visible.

Challe took off his clothes, drew a bucket of water up from the well, and dumped it over his head. Again and again, he drew water from the well and doused himself. The water ran red and dirty at his feet. He didn’t feel cold even as he showered himself with the frigid water, but his breath came out in white clouds.

As he poured the water over himself, Challe thought about the fairies Lafalle had recruited.

Each of the warrior fairies was strong, more than a match for two or even three humans.

Lafalle had assembled more than sixty such fairies—quite a fighting force.

According to the recruits, Lafalle had been gathering them for about a year, though no one knew what he had been up to before that.

Challe wondered about that time in Lafalle’s life. What had he been doing and thinking about? Why had he suddenly started recruiting fairies a year ago?

Challe’s bloody clothes from the previous excursion had been washed and placed in a corner of the well room. A fairy had been doing the same thing every day—washing his dirty clothes and leaving them there for him—probably under orders from Lafalle.

As he was getting dressed, Challe heard someone in boots coming down the stone stairs.

“Why don’t you try going back to your room without washing for a change?”

It was Lafalle. Challe ignored him and put on the fresh clothes, using a dry cloth to blot his dripping hair.

Droplets of water fell from Challe’s fingertips, from his eyelashes, from his cheeks, and from the backs of his hands. They slid smoothly over his skin, each one caressing him on its way down. The memory of battle lingered in his body, and he shuddered at the feeling of each drop. Even that sensation, which he normally would have enjoyed after a fight, was aggravating to him now.

“If she saw you as you were, even Anne would understand, don’t you think? She’ll see that she lives in a different world from you.”

“We live in the same world. Fairies and humans both walk the same earth.”

“I see. I suppose you could say that. Perhaps that’s why we fight.”

Challe didn’t feel like staying in such disagreeable company for very long. He tossed aside the cloth he had used to dry his hair and turned toward the stairs.

“Today will be the last day we spend gathering our comrades.”

Just as Challe was about to set foot on the stairs, Lafalle announced this behind his back. Challe stopped walking but kept his back to the other fairy.

“Fine by me,” he said. “Does that mean I get a break?”

“Our ranks have grown, and the fort has become cramped, so I want to find us a more spacious home. And we’ll need to acquire some humans to serve our warriors.”

Challe sensed something horrible in Lafalle’s cheerful tone, and he frowned at him over his shoulder.

“About halfway between Lewiston and Westol, there is a small human village,” Lafalle continued. “It’s in the mountains, quite remote from other villages, but it has a good wheat crop. And there is a sugar apple forest nearby. The population numbers no more than one hundred and fifty humans. They have little contact with the outside world. Sometimes, peddlers stop there, or the villagers travel into town to go to the market, but that’s it. None of the humans there know how to fight. Quite favorable conditions, don’t you think?”

“You mean to attack that village?”

“We will make it our domain.”

Lafalle smiled faintly, and Challe felt sick.

If around sixty warrior fairies were to attack a village of one hundred fifty farmers, they would conquer the place in the blink of an eye. They would force the powerless to yield to their overwhelming strength.

“The governor of this territory won’t stand and let you take the village. Neither will the king.”

“They won’t be able to do anything. We’ll have one hundred and fifty hostages, you see. Even the humans would be loath to sentence a whole village to death.”

Lafalle’s eyes held a brutal kind of delight. His smile was cheerful yet disturbing.

That first day Lafalle had brought Challe and Anne to the fort, he had declared his purpose to Challe. He said they would reclaim the fairies’ freedom and rebuild their kingdom in place of the last fairy king, Riselva Cyril Sash, who had died five hundred years earlier. And to do that, they would become joint fairy kings, gather their comrades, and wage war against the humans.

But Challe wasn’t so sure that was what they were doing.

Something’s not right.

He felt it instinctually.

Lafalle spoke about a great cause, and Challe believed he really did want the things he spoke about and hoped they would come to pass. But his present course was guided by simple, raw emotion. If not, he wouldn’t be speaking about a brutal war with such glee.

Once he thought it through, Challe realized something else.

So that’s it… The wings.

He finally understood.

“You seem awfully pleased,” Challe observed.

Lafalle smiled and cocked his head slightly. “Oh, is that how I look to you?”

“Is revenge really so satisfying, Lafalle?”

In response to Challe’s quiet question, the other fairy frowned.

Challe approached him slowly, staring at his lone wing. The long, sleek wing, which hung down past the back of Lafalle’s knees, was without a pair, just like Challe’s. It was a color like green and blue mixed together, and partially transparent.

“How did you lose your wing?” he asked, and Lafalle’s expression instantly dropped. “You were used by humans, weren’t you?”

Lafalle’s hair, which had been a soft, ambiguous color, was suddenly tinged with red. There was anger in his eyes, as if he had been insulted.

“No one knows where you were or what you were doing until a year ago,” Challe continued. “You appeared suddenly, called yourself the fairy king, and began gathering your forces. You were born before I was, so why didn’t you act for a hundred years? I suspect it’s because you couldn’t. And I can only think of one reason that would be—because you were enslaved by humans.”

“Be quiet…Challe,” Lafalle warned, glaring at him.

“I never knew about where we came from. But you…you knew that you were chosen as the fairy king. And yet you were captured and enslaved by humans. It must have been agony. Then one year ago, you finally escaped. Is that it?”

Once a fairy’s wing was in human hands, it was no easy feat to get away. Even Challe had never been able to escape, despite attempting it many times. The humans who used warrior fairies tended to be especially vigilant.

“You will be silent. Have you forgotten that your wing is in my hands?”

“My wing, huh? Do you hold on to the wings of the fairies gathered here because you can’t trust anybody? Why don’t you trust your fellow fairies? Were you betrayed in the past?”

Lafalle’s mouth twisted slightly, as if he was trying to suppress some strong emotion.

A fairy like Lafalle would have been difficult for humans to capture. Something must have gotten him to let his guard down so they could take him prisoner.

“Did you fall into human hands because you were betrayed by your comrades? Does your hatred extend beyond the humans to your fellow fairies? You force even those who still have both wings to sacrifice one of them. Does it make you angry to see other fairies with both their wings when you have only one? You’re like a jealous little girl.”

“You dare insult me?!”

Challe dodged Lafalle’s hand as he grabbed at him.

“Insult you? Aren’t I just telling the truth?” He chuckled.

Even for Challe, who had never known the meaning behind his birth, being enslaved by humans was so humiliating, it made his blood boil. How much worse must it have been for Lafalle, who knew that he had been chosen by the fairy king, Riselva Cyril Sash?

The anger and hatred kindled by that humiliation had burned so fiercely that it consumed his heart. And it was with that burnt, black heart that he obtained his freedom and named himself the fairy king.

He had declared that he would take back freedom for all fairies and rallied comrades to his cause. But beneath this pretext, his hatred and anger still smoldered.

Lafalle’s great crusade was simply a means for enacting revenge on humankind. And even the act of building his army was probably a kind of revenge on the former comrades who had betrayed him.

Challe didn’t know what had happened in the past, but Lafalle was trying to use force to make even his fellow fairies surrender to his authority. Controlling them was another way of dealing with his pent-up anger at his former comrades.

“You said you wanted to become the fairy king and reclaim freedom for all fairies, and I believed you. But it seems your goals are not so lofty. You simply want revenge. You’re still filled with rage and hatred. All you want is to attack the humans and subjugate your fellow fairies.”

Lafalle, who had failed to take hold of Challe, practically growled, “What’s the difference? To free the fairies, I need to hate and attack the humans. And to do that, I need to recruit others, fairies without direction or purpose, and guide them so they don’t do anything foolish. And if it so happens that I enjoy wielding my authority and taking my revenge, what’s the problem with that?”

“A true fairy king should not be driven by revenge or lust for power,” Challe said calmly as he ascended the stairs.

He’s become twisted.

Lafalle was consumed by the conviction that he was meant to become the fairy king. But his noble motives had dissolved in a sea of anger and hatred, and now they were hardly recognizable.

Challe understood Lafalle’s hatred for humans and his all-consuming anger. Until he met Anne, Challe had been living with those very same feelings.

Once again, Anne spent the day making sugar candy. Kneading silver sugar every day distracted her, and the candy made the fairies happy. The windows in the fort’s hallways had neither shutters nor glass panes. The whole place was drafty, and Anne shivered in the cold whenever she left her room. At night, everything was gray outside the windows. Snow had begun to fall, and the wild land she could see outside was quickly turning white.

Carrying the sugar candies she had made that day, Anne hurried toward the fairies’ quarters. When she knocked, one of the warrior fairies opened the door. As he looked down at Anne, his sullen expression softened.

“Oh, it’s you.”

“I brought some sugar candies. Do you need them again today?”

“Yes, thanks. You heard from him and brought them, did you?”

“Him?”

“Challe Fenn Challe. You didn’t hear anything from him?”

“Challe hasn’t come back to the room yet.”

“Oh…right. I suppose he wouldn’t want to, looking like that.” The fairy frowned.

Lusul came bounding up from behind him and hopped up onto his shoulder.

“We’ve got injuries again today,” she said. “Thank you, Anne.”

“Don’t mention it. Here.” She offered a board laden with candies, and the warrior fairy accepted it. Then looking down at the board, he muttered a question.

“You’re a human, so why are you giving sugar candies to fairies?”

“What do you mean, ‘why’? Because you said you needed them.”

“What are you doing?” A chilly hand suddenly came down on Anne’s shoulder. “Why are you bringing sugar candies here, Silver Sugar Master?”

Horrified, Anne instinctively brushed the hand away, jumped aside, and spun around.

Lafalle was smiling. Lusul cast her eyes down, looking panicked. The fairies inside the room also took notice. They all seemed nervous. Lafalle stared at the sugar candy in the warrior fairy’s hands.

“What’s going on here?” he asked. “All the candies you make for me are garbage. And yet you’re making beautiful candies like these and bringing them to a place like this?”

Anne moved to stand in the doorway, blocking the sugar candies from Lafalle’s gaze.

“I’ll make candy for you, too. But I made these for them, so…”

“You don’t seem to have understood the meaning behind my question. Why are you making such beautiful candies for them, when you only make trash for me? I would like to hear your explanation.”

“It’s not like I’ve been slacking when making candy for you. It’s just… They never turn out well, and…”

Lafalle made a chuckling sound in the back of his throat.

“So it’s not that you refuse to make good candy, but that you can’t make it—not when it’s for me. Your very heart refuses me?”

“I’m sorry…but—”

“You really are an aggravating girl.” He was still grumbling as he grabbed Anne’s arm. “Come with me.”

He yanked her along, and it hurt so badly that she thought he’d dislocated her shoulder. Anne screwed up her face in pain, but Lafalle didn’t seem to care. He strode off, dragging her behind him.

“Ah, um…Lord Lafalle! Wait, please!”

Despite her fear of Lafalle, Lusul called out to stop him. Some of the warrior fairies also rushed out of the room.

“What?” Lafalle turned around, clearly displeased.

Lusul paled but managed to say, “U-um… Um… That young lady. What do you intend to do with her?”

“We have no need for a useless human.”

“Lord Lafalle,” a warrior fairy mumbled. “She is useful. My injuries have healed.”

“If she can’t make sugar candies for me, then there’s no point in keeping her. I’ll simply go and capture a new Silver Sugar Master. She’s only a human. You don’t need to concern yourselves with her,” Lafalle said dismissively and walked away.

Lusul and the warrior fairies watched them go, bewildered.

Lafalle pulled Anne’s arm with great force, dragging her to a room with a large door—his private quarters. The spacious interior included woolen carpets spread across the floor, a large bed, and clothing chests with metal fixtures, among other furnishings.

Lafalle shoved Anne through the door, sending her stumbling across the stone floor. She pitched forward after a couple of steps, falling on her hands and knees near the center of the room.

There was no fire burning, and it was cold. Scattered snowflakes were blowing in through the wide-open windows.

Lafalle closed the door behind him and stared down at Anne.

He means to kill me, she thought as she gazed into his eyes. They were cold and pitiless, as though he were looking at vermin.

The color of Lafalle’s hair changed gradually to a translucent shade of red, starting at the top of his head. He turned both of his palms upward and spread his hands out in front of his chest, where beads of shining red light began to gather.

As Anne watched from the floor, her hands trembled.

“I had given up,” he said. “I thought I would never find anyone to live alongside me. Fairies were all ignorant and stupid, a bunch of fools. If I didn’t take their wings and rule over them, I didn’t know what sorts of messes they would make. The time for the diamond in my hands had arrived, yet it wouldn’t come to life, and I didn’t know why. I wasn’t sure whether the obsidian still existed. I doubted he was even alive. There was only me. In order to do something about fairykind’s humiliating state, I thought I had no choice but to become the fairy king.”

Lafalle’s tone was detached, his voice flat. But Anne only had to look in his eyes to see that he harbored an irrepressible rage.

“But the obsidian was alive, and I found him,” he continued. “And yet that obsidian fairy, Challe Fenn Challe, had been seduced by a little human girl and was fighting for the humans. If only you weren’t around, I know he would have had very different ideas about the world. I’m sure he would have lived as my one and only partner. So why…?!”

Lafalle slowly approached Anne as he spoke. For some reason, there was a tinge of hopelessness in his voice.

Could it be that he’s lonely?

Lafalle and Challe were born in the same place. The two of them probably felt closer to each other than to any other fairies. Lafalle had said that other fairies were fools, but he must have considered Challe and Challe alone to be his equal.

Lafalle thought both humans and other fairies were beneath him, and he lived a solitary life. He had to be extremely lonely.

That was why he wanted to make Challe, the only person he considered his equal, into his companion. He hoped that, while he had control of Challe’s wing and was forcing him to do his bidding, the two of them would eventually come to understand each other. Just like when Anne, who had recently lost her mother, had hoped to become friends with Challe while she held his wing.

In a quivering voice, Anne argued back, “With or without me, Challe is Challe. The reason he isn’t warming up to you is because you do awful things and because you’re holding his and all the other fairies’ wings. If you want to be friends with Challe, you’ll have to be nice to him first.”

“How dare a mere human speak the obsidian fairy’s name! He is like me, a life force chosen by the fairy king, a person destined to become a fairy king himself.”

Fairy king?! Anne hadn’t expected to hear those words. Challe, a fairy king? What does he mean?

Shining red threads appeared between Lafalle’s hands, and he made them bend and warp. Anne heard them cut through the air just before they wrapped around her ankle.

“If you weren’t around, I wouldn’t have had to take Challe’s wing. I wouldn’t have had to do anything to make him stay with me. You’re the one who messed it all up.”

Anne felt the cold, silvery-red threads twist around her ankle. She was so frightened that she almost cried out.

Lafalle gathered up the lengths of shining thread as he approached, and when he was right in front of Anne, he crouched down and peered into her face.

“I’m going to tell Challe that I set you free. Even if he doubts me, he has no way of checking. As long as I hold his wing, he can’t leave. And after fifty years or so have passed, he will forget all about you. Then slowly, even if it takes another hundred years, I can change Challe’s mind. But before any of that can happen, I have to take you out of the picture!”

When Challe got back to Anne’s room, she wasn’t there. He figured she had probably gone to take the sugar candies she had made to the fairies’ quarters. He wanted to see her face right away, so he left the room again to look for her.

Tomorrow, Lafalle will attack the village.

Thinking about it put Challe in a bad mood. The dark sky was visible through the windows lining the fort’s corridors, and snow was blowing in. That night, the snow was likely to stick.

If it piles up, the trail I left behind will vanish. What’s taking you so long, Silver Sugar Viscount?

He turned a corner and headed toward the fairies’ quarters, only to find them gathered in the hallway up ahead, looking at one another and whispering.

He had a hunch that something had happened, and he hurried over to them.

“What’s going on?”

When he asked, they turned around, looking startled.

“Oh, Challe!” Lusul, who was up on the window sash, cried his name tearfully.

“What?”

“Anne was—” She had just started to speak, when one of the warrior fairies cut her off.

“Stop, Lusul! Lord Lafalle will kill you!”

Challe glared at the fairy who had raised his voice.

“Are you all satisfied,” he said, “being kept by Lafalle like so many pets? Reacting to his moods and following his orders? Tell me—how is that different from being owned by humans? Really think about it. What’s the difference? I don’t feel like being Lafalle’s pet, so I’m going to protect what’s important to me.”

The other fairies seemed daunted by the quiet anger in Challe’s voice and held their tongues.

“What has Anne ever done to any of you?” he continued. “She is a human, and if you hate her for being human, that’s fine. I won’t argue. But if that’s not the case, then tell me. What happened to Anne?”

I’m done for!

Just as Anne squeezed her eyes shut and gritted her teeth, she heard someone open the door.

Opening her eyes with a start, she saw Challe in a low stance with his sword out, slashing sideways at Lafalle’s back. Lafalle quickly jumped to dodge, but Challe didn’t pay him any mind, slicing instead through the threads reaching from his hands to Anne’s ankle.

As they split with a shrill noise and their ends flailed in the air, the silvery-red threads burst into twinkling light and vanished.

Challe turned his back to Anne and crouched in front of her, his sword at the ready.

“Lafalle, didn’t I tell you that if you tried anything, I’d kill you?”

“So you heard from the others, hmm? As I expected, they’re too foolish to understand my intentions,” Lafalle grumbled hatefully. “There is no way to manage those idiots except to hold on to their wings and control them that way.”

“If you can’t even subdue a small cadre of fairies without taking their wings,” Challe replied quietly, “you’ll never be the fairy king.”

“Well then, will you become king? Can you subjugate those fools without holding their wings?”

“I have no need to make them my subjects. Fairies can gain their freedom even without a king. I will find another way.”

“The only thing you’ll find is humiliation at the hands of the humans. It’s just as I expected. I must become the fairy king and rule alone. I won’t give up that right. I’ll even rule over you.”

As he spoke, Lafalle put his hand inside his jacket and pulled out a small leather pouch. Anne recognized it—it contained Challe’s wing. Lafalle held it in one hand and squeezed it tightly, crushing it.

Challe groaned. He lurched over, supporting himself with his free hand.

“Challe!” Anne rushed to help hold him up.

“Run. Get out of this room…,” he replied.

“But—”

“Go!” Challe shouted, his face twisting painfully. “You’re in the way!”

Anne leaped to her feet and bolted out of the room, practically flying out the door. It was as Challe had said: Anne was in the way as long as she was near him. She had no power of her own, and even if she stayed by his side, she couldn’t do anything to help.

Outside, she ran into a group of warrior fairies hanging around in the hallway. They appeared to be focused on Lafalle’s room, and when Anne came flying out, their eyes widened in surprise.

“Anne?!” Lusul rushed out from the group of fairies. “Thank goodness, Anne! Challe must have stopped him!”

“Lusul!” Tears spilled down Anne’s face. She ran to the small fairy and collapsed right there in the hallway. “Lafalle is going to kill Challe!” she shouted. “He’s crushing Challe’s wing right now!”

She lifted her head and looked up at the warrior fairies.

“Please, please! Save Challe! At this rate, who knows what could happen to him?! He was only trying to help me!”

Slowly, one of the warrior fairies stepped toward Anne. Then with great force, he grabbed her wrists and hoisted her to her feet.

“Does it hurt?”

As he crushed the pouch containing Challe’s wing, Lafalle crouched down in front of him with a faint smile.

Challe gritted his teeth and glared at Lafalle as he endured the fear and pain. It felt like his body was being twisted so tightly that it would break into pieces and scatter. It was so painful, he couldn’t even speak.

“This is your punishment for insulting me and sticking up for a human,” he said.

Then Lafalle’s expression suddenly grew serious.

“Poor thing. It must be painful. I once thought that if I ever managed to find you, we would respect and love each other as partner kings. How did it come to this? I blame the humans for all of it.”

Lafalle squeezed Challe’s wing even harder, and amid the overwhelming anguish and pain, Challe felt his sword drop from his hand.

As the fallen weapon disappeared in a shimmer of light, Challe collapsed, crumpling sideways onto the floor. He curled up, wrapping both arms around his body.

“Lord Lafalle.”

Through the open door, several warrior fairies entered in a line. They had brought Anne with them. One of them held Anne’s wrists behind her back. She appeared to be in pain.

“We’ve brought her.”

Anne looked up at her expressionless captor with sad eyes.

“Well done,” said Lafalle. Then he leaned over and whispered into Challe’s ear: “I want you to watch. Watch what happens to your precious Silver Sugar Master.”

Challe couldn’t speak because of the pain. Panicking, he shouted in his mind.

Anne!

Suddenly, the pain disappeared as Lafalle put the pouch containing Challe’s wing back inside his jacket pocket. Then he stood up and walked toward Anne. Challe tried to put his hands on the floor and push himself up, but his whole body was shaking with the residual pain, and it wouldn’t move the way he wanted it to.

The moment Lafalle reached out toward Anne, however, a little fairy jumped out from somewhere near her shoulders.

It was Lusul. Before Lafalle could so much as frown, she slipped inside his jacket.

“You?!”

The startled Lafalle tried to catch Lusul, but before he could, she flitted away again with the pouch containing Challe’s wing in her hands. She bounded once, then twice across the floor and hopped into Challe’s breast pocket.

“Challe! Your wing!” she shouted.

Lafalle readied the shining red threads in his hands and flicked them toward Challe. Holding Lusul, Challe rolled across the floor and dodged the threads that came flying at him. He got up on one knee and held his right hand open. Then focusing his energy, he conjured his silver sword again.

Once it was clear that Challe had escaped him, Lafalle clicked his tongue and tried to grab Anne’s arm. But the warrior fairy holding her thrust her back out of the room.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” Lafalle demanded, his eyes bulging.

“Lord Lafalle,” the warrior fairy said quietly. “Please let that girl go. She may be human, but let her go.”

“You fools!!” Lafalle shouted, jumping back and readying his red threads.

Challe dropped into a low stance and ran toward him. He swung his sword, trying to sweep Lafalle’s legs, and Lafalle jumped back again.

“Run! Get out of the fort, Anne!” Challe shouted into the hallway as he slashed at Lafalle from close range.

Aided by the confined space, Challe had managed to get close enough that Lafalle struggled to extend his shining crimson threads. Lafalle leaped away, pressed back by Challe’s sword. Challe followed him, swinging. He didn’t want to give Lafalle any openings.

“Lusul El Min! Go! Take Anne!”

Lusul darted off, following Challe’s order.

“I’ll punish all of you! I’ll burn your wings!” Lafalle shouted in anger, dodging Challe’s blade.

Then he gave his threads another flick and ran toward the doorway. Challe sliced through the threads as they came flying at him.

The warrior fairies who had been standing clustered in the doorway scattered, pushed aside by Lafalle’s shining red threads as he charged through them. Bursts of light were followed by screams as the threads hit several of the fairies, wounding them.

Challe ran after Lafalle, shouting to the others, “Take the injured with you and get everyone out of the fort!”

Still chasing Lafalle, he practically flew down the narrow hallway, then rushed up the spiral staircase. At the top of the dark stairwell was an arched doorway. Challe could see the gray sky through it.

He emerged onto the battlement—the narrow walkway that ran along the top of the fort’s tall curtain wall. Powerful gusts of wind blew past, driving clusters of snowflakes into his path.

The battlement was no wider than three of Challe’s strides. The outer edge of the walkway was protected by a parapet wall, with regularly spaced gaps for firing arrows. There was nothing at all in the gaps between wall sections, which were big enough that a person could easily slip between them. And there wasn’t even a wall on the interior edge of the walkway—it was wide open. The fort’s courtyard spread out far below them. They were at a dizzying height.

Snow whipped around them. The wind blowing through the forest struck the fort’s walls and traveled upward, carrying with it drifts of snow from the ground. The fairies’ hair and clothing danced wildly in the updraft.

“Come at me, Challe!”

Lafalle stood in front of one of the open crenels, facing Challe, shining red threads at the ready. Challe steadied his grip on his silver sword and assumed a low stance, preparing himself for the attack.

That’s when it happened. Over the wild howling of the wind, they heard the noise of hundreds of horses down below.

Startled, Lafalle looked out over the snow-covered plain.

Challe kept his sword at the ready as he, too, looked toward the sound.

About two hundred mounted troops were lined up in orderly rows in front of the fort. Their banners bore the Earl of Downing’s crest. And in the rear, Challe and Lafalle could see flags belonging to the Silver Sugar Viscount.

Gazing down at them, Challe smiled.

“You certainly took your time, Silver Sugar Viscount.”

From atop the battlement, Lafalle stared down at the assembled cavalry in shock. “Why are there humans here?”

Challe slowly approached Lafalle. With each step, the snow piled on the battlements crunched under his feet.

“Stealing that barrel of silver sugar was a mistake. It was leaking the whole way back. They followed the trail.”

“So this was your doing, Challe?” Lafalle looked over his shoulder with a blank expression. His translucent red hair was tossed by a strong gust of wind.

“I knew the Silver Sugar Viscount would never miss the characteristic pale sparkle of silver sugar. And the timing was lucky. In early winter, there are no insects to gobble up the sugar. I was worried the snow might cover and hide it. But the Silver Sugar Viscount made it here before too much snow could accumulate.”

“So I was betrayed again, by one of my own… And to think it would be you.”

“As long as you had my wing, you were my master. We were never comrades. It wasn’t a question of betraying or being betrayed. Anyone who enslaves a fairy is our enemy. One year ago, I met a human girl, only fifteen years old, who already knew that. But it seems you couldn’t figure it out.”

Before he had even finished speaking, Challe charged, as keen as an arrow.

In an instant, he leaped in close to a numb-looking Lafalle. The other fairy had kept his red threads at the ready, but Challe was faster. He closed the distance between them before Lafalle could bring his threads to bear, and he thrust the tip of his sword toward Lafalle’s chest.

Pressed back by the attack, Lafalle retreated bit by bit and was driven between two sections of the parapet wall. The heels of his boots reached the edge of the walkway, and he stopped, barely managing to keep his balance.

“Give me the key,” Challe demanded. “The key to the box where you keep the fairies’ wings.”

Lafalle let out a tired sigh. “They’re all a bunch of fools,” he said. “I don’t need them anymore. Take it.”

Feeling around inside his jacket, Lafalle produced a large key made of brass and tossed it onto the walkway. Then he fixed his eyes on Challe. They held no hostility or hatred, only something akin to resignation.

“If only I had found you before you met Anne. I’m sure you would never have pointed your sword at me like this.”

“Probably not. You were a year too slow. Only one, but that’s fate.”

If Challe hadn’t met Anne a year earlier, he almost certainly would have been more sympathetic toward Lafalle. He would have had the same thoughts and let the same anger and hatred guide him.

A single encounter had caused their destinies to diverge and set them on the path to one day face each other as enemies.

They should have been two of a kind. Instead, they shouldered different fates and walked different paths, like two sides of the same coin.

Challe paused for a moment, his sword still pointed at Lafalle. He saw himself reflected in the other fairy, like a warped mirror, and hesitated.

“Lafalle. It’s over.”

The moment Challe readied himself to strike again, Lafalle smiled unexpectedly.

“Fate, huh?”

Lafalle sounded peaceful, like he was speaking from the heart.

Then slowly, he leaned backward.

His long red hair billowed softly around him. His hands, which had been grasping the shining red threads, suddenly relaxed, and his fingers opened. The moment he stopped holding the threads, they evaporated into beads of light, sparkling as they vanished. Lafalle’s expression was vacant, and his ambiguously colored blue-and-green eyes stared up at the gray sky. Snowflakes brushed his eyelashes. His pale silhouette stood out against the dark gray and white of the wintry world. He looked terribly lonesome.

The next moment, Lafalle’s body disappeared. He’d fallen.

“Lafalle!”

Challe ran over to the parapet and looked out over the side. Amid the pure-white snow blowing in all directions, he could see a single red flower petal floating in the wind. The flower petal quickly shrank, before vanishing into the snow.