“A magical war isn't about personally fighting the enemy. It's very different from fighting a duel.”

- A memory of the Old Ones.

***Fairy***

***Magnus***

The throne-room is largely empty and there is only one entrance. The left wall is a large glass front which allows for plenty of light. The wall to my right is covered by a large picture. It shows a gory battlefield between fae and other supernaturals. Not only Old Ones, but every supernatural species I know of. What's strange about the depiction, is that the Old Ones are staying in the background while the others are fighting. I'll have to ask Grandpa about it.

On the other side of the room is a large, wooden throne with Winter sitting on it. He holds the orb in his hands and studies it with a mad expression on his face. The entire scene reminds me a lot of Gollum from Lord of the Rings. Just that this fae isn't a weak, little halfling.

I slowly approach the throne, taking great care in being as quiet as possible.

Winter raises the orb above his head and blue sparks flicker along his arms into his body. “I'll use this to create an army like nobody has ever seen. They will have no choice but to bow in front of me. I don't understand why the Old Ones allow something like this to rot in their basement! I've never felt so much raw power!”

Yep, he's totally lost it. Drunk on magic. I wonder why nobody taught him that channelling so much power fucks up the brain. But then again, maybe he simply doesn't care at his age. Maybe he is willing to gamble everything on one last spell?

From one moment to the next, Winter's demeanour changes. He pulls the orb to his chest, cradling it like the most important item in the world. His eyes search the room. “Who is disrespecting my orders? Show yourself! Now!”

His wandering eyes tell me that he might sense my presence, but he doesn't know where I am.

Winter shakes his head and raises a hand, pointing his palm at me. A large icicle shoots out and I dive to the side. The icicle digs itself into the wall and I get to all fours, propelling myself forward. I do everything I can to keep moving.

Winter peppers the entire area with icicles. It’s clear that he has a rough idea of my location. I don't know how he is doing it, but he is good.

“Enough!” Winter jumps to his feet and a wave of power emanates from the orb, throwing me backwards.

I land hard and try my best not to grunt. I stay completely silent and concentrate on controlling my body. There must be something that sets winter off. He can't see me, so is it sound? Or smell? If it's the latter, I can't do anything about it.

Closing my eyes, I concentrate on my heartbeat. Ever so slowly, it slows down. My heart stops pumping with its typical, erratic beats. Instead, it starts a slow, continuous rhythm. This is less effective, but it's also less loud. I lie absolutely still and imagine myself as nothing more than a spec of dust.

Winter gets to his feet and sneers loudly. “I know that you are in here. Tell me who sent you and I might let you live. Was it Summer? The bitch wants to stand at the top. She always sends small birds or critters to spy on me. But not with Winter!”

He slowly walks to the point where he shot at me. “But I admit that invisible fae are a big leap, even for her. How did you do it?” He turns around, searching.

I stay absolutely still. There are several different methods of hunting. One of them is to lurk undetected, allowing the prey to approach on its own. It's an effective technique with skittish animals which have good senses.

Winter surveys the room and takes a step forward. “You can't hide!” He turns around and shoots an icicle through one of the windows, giving away that he has no idea where I am. I carefully reach into my pocket and throw one of my dice at the throne.

It clinks and Winter jumps away from the sound, firing another hailstorm of icicles. The spell shreds a large part of the throne and damages the wall behind it.

The last jump brought him into my reach. I open my eyes and draw my kerambit from its shoulder holster. Then I grab his ankle and stab the blade into the back of his knee. He screams and whirls around, tearing the knife free. He fires another spell, but the loss of balance causes his shot to go wide.

I bring my leg up and kick the orb out of his hands. Instead of trying to retrieve the orb, he does the smart thing and blasts me with everything he has. At least, he blasts the area where he assumed me to be. I changed positions as soon as I had his leg disabled.

The ground and walls immediately ice over and the water in the air condenses into a thick mist of ice crystals. The room's temperature drops by several degrees, creating an Arctic atmosphere.

“Greetings, Winter!” I breath into his ear and he whirls around, giving my knife the opportunity to cut deep into his throat.

I draw my second knife and stab it into the left side of his belly, then I open him up like an animal. His guts spill out and immediately freeze upon touching the layer of ice which he created.

He raises his hands to blast me with ice, but I punch him in the face. “Oh, that feels better than I expected! You have to train your instinctive reflexes. Punching is always faster than spellcasting in such close proximity.”

After a short moment of consideration I drop the invisibility and add, “But do that in your next life. I think you are at the end of the road.”

Winter tries to get back to his feet, showing what a tenacious bastard he is. With one hand he tries to stop the blood from his throat, while with the other, he attempts to stuff his guts back into his belly. He looks at me and his eyes widen. His mouth opens and blood comes out.

I smile and punch him again, sending him back to the ground. Whistling, I clean my second knife and place it back in its sheath. Winter's wounds are already healing, so I use my kerambit to carve him up a bit more. I need more time.

“Not so different from butchering chickens,” I mumble as I sever the tendons of Winter's arms and legs. It reminds me of the times when I trained myself to feel nothing about killing living things. “Though I'll never get used to the smell. Why does everyone shit into their pants when it ends?”

I grab Winter at his clothes and pull him over to his throne, creating a long trail of blood and guts. A kick rids me of the wooden throne. I want to create a fitting scene to celebrate Winter's end. A gesture towards the orb sends it flying into my hand. The second I touch it, power floods through my entire being. I frown and study the artefact for damage. There is none as far as I can tell.

Just a few scratches on its surface, but I made those myself a long time ago. “Hatlix always insisted on putting instructions on his artefacts.” I wriggle the orb at Winter so that he can see it. “Makes me glad that I scratched them off.”

I prop Winter up against the stonewall. “Let me show you how to use the orb. You wanted an army. I'll allow you to be its first soldier.”

Winter shakes his head, but I don't care. I hold the orb tightly in my left hand and channel it's power into Winter's body, forming a very unique spell matrix. It's very similar to the fusion spell which I encountered at the farm. I don't know enough about biology to make it work with living matter. But my knowledge about death magic is clearly above average. There was a short period after my parents' death when I went over the edge. I studied the necromantic arts and used them to punish my uncle and his cronies. Somewhere deep inside me, I hoped to find a way to resurrect my people. Luckily, I realized the folly of such dreams after a while.

Winter's eyes widen as his body fuses with the wall and thorny shackles secure him in place. His eyes start emitting a green light and he bucks in vain. I press my hand into his belly to cover it in blood, then I start writing runic script onto his body.

After a while, I step back and admire my work. Oh, camera! I quickly check on the device.

Phew! It was recording. It would've been such a bust if I didn't have the boss fight recorded.

Then I step away from the spreading corruption which has Winter as its centre. Turning around, I channel the orb's power and form a new spell matrix, ripping apart Fairy's reality and opening a rift of blue energy in front of me.

I curl the corners of my mouth downwards when I realize that I am not entirely on target. Wielding the orb’s power is never easy. “That will hurt!” I step through the rift.

***Fairy***

***Gardener***

I tap-dance along the corridor. I am happy, yet I am not. Someone blew up some trees in my forest. That’s bad. The women are also dead. That’s good.

He also blew up one of the fairy trees. The invader could've been a little nicer and caused less collateral damage. I guess that seeing what the fae do to the women of other races wasn’t taken well by the Old One.

At least the Old Ones decided to take a look at what the fae are doing in Fairy.

I step around one of the zombiefied fae. It should be dead, but it still twitches. I wonder if this corruption is Winter's fault, or if the Old One decided to leave a little gift in Fairy.

I hop over one of the fae soldiers who fell to retake the castle. It was quite a surprise when we lost contact with Winter. Overnight, his castle turned into a breeding ground for all sorts of corrupted beings. It took the combined efforts of Summer, Autumn and Spring to force back the spreading corruption. We had to find a spell which was able to counter the enchantment that was turning fae into undead monsters.

Though, turning a fae into a monster? Did the Old One intend to pull a joke on them? Hmm.

I reach Winter's throne room and find Summer, Autumn and Spring inside. They are standing in front of Winter who is fused to the wall and squirming like a wild animal. There is blood and guts everywhere and Winter's belly is an empty cavern.

“Ew!” I take care to avoid the biggest mess and join them. “Winter doesn't look healthy. So grey and oozy. I don't think we can salvage him.”

They look at me with what's probably meant to be grave expressions. Spring gestures her delicate hand at Winter and the wall. “He is already dead. We just wanted to know what you think of the message.”

On the wall is indeed a message written in Winter’s blood. I tilt my head to the side until it stands at an impossible angle and the others have to look away. Whatever they might say, they aren't comfortable with my anatomy.

“I paid you fae a visit to get my property back. I've seen what you are doing to the abducted women and decided to turn Winter into a little experiment. Stay in Fairy and don't come out. Otherwise we'll show you some real magic. This is just a little warm-up to remind you of what a magical war looks like.”