The Elves and the Faerie rebels charged at each other with their faces pale or red from blood loss or adrenaline, their expressions twisted with fear or fury, their veins stretched against their skin and their weapons fiercely gripped. But just as they were about to indulge in the final clash, a sudden change occurred.

A mass of large tree branches had suddenly erupted from the ground, wrapping around their waists and wrists and immobilising every last one of them in a single instant like it was nothing.

The people weren’t fools, so after a brief moment of confusion, shock and futile resistance, they quickly identified the cause of the strange branches and exclaimed out loud with fear, reverence or plea.

“““THE QUEEN!”””

They immediately dropped their weapons and tried to prostrate themselves but were restricted by the branches. Strangely enough, that seemed to cause some of them a little bit of fear. They even tried to struggle out of the branch's grip to the point of incurring injuries, fighting its relentless grip just so that they could kneel.

Were they attempting to beg for their lives or did they just respect the Queen that much?

However, nothing changed and for some reason the Queen didn’t appear. The branches were still tightly wrapped around them but nothing happened next. Yet even considering this, instead of becoming wild or or overly-agitated, they instead ceased their useless struggle against the branches. Nobody dared to move or make a sound.

They were in trouble and they knew it.

It was only 5 minutes later that they heard a light pitter-patter sound, something they soon recognised as the sound of soft bare feet slapping against the ground. They quickly lifted up their heads and witnessed the heart-palpitating sight of the Queen walking out of the gates of her palace with her all-white eyes glowing like never before.

They way she ambled towards them as she idly looked in random directions reminded them of a simple person who was strolling through their garden and admiring flowers. However, when the Elves tracked the source of her idle attentions to the piles of blood, ashes, bodies and broken weapons, they couldn’t help but feel a chill spread across their spine.

Guilt and fear coursed through their hearts, causing them to shiver with nervousness as the soft pitter-pattering of the Queen's feet became closer and closer. The sound was soft and light but it slapped across their ears like the cracking of whips. The tension in the air was so thick that it almost felt tangible and the strength they were previously so proud of now felt like nothing. It was horrible.

Finally, the Queen had arrived in front of them and had stopped moving, but at this point they were trembling so badly that they wondered if others could hear the rattling of their bones. The Queen hadn’t even exhibited her aura in the slightest but they still felt like the weight of their flesh had increased by many kilograms and if it weren’t for the support of the branches still wrapped around them, some of them would have crumpled to the ground.

They silently begged for the Queen to give her verdict, hoping to get this over with, but woefully contrary to their pleas, the Queen stood silently as she stared at everyone, and this continued for 2 whole torturous minutes that they could have sworn had somehow been multiplied by 10.

At this point, whether they had suffered grievous wounds or not, all of them had pale faces and shivering lips. They had long forgotten their past fury with each other and had thrown any thoughts of revenge far, far away. And now, the differences between Elf and Fae were beginning to fade away. As they continued to tremble and look around to see other people whether Elf or Fae tremble just like them, they began to feel a small sense of companionship that made them feel slightly better.

They had reached a strange sort of union through their mutual fear for their future and desperately wished that they could take back everything that they had done.

It was at this moment that the Queen finally spoke.

“People of the Elven Kingdom…” she began with a soft tone and tranquil expression. However, not only did her voice spread far and wide like thunder, the piercing light in her eyes that kept getting brighter and brighter betrayed the serenity of her demeanour and gave off an impression of heavenly wrath.

“You have completely failed me.” the Queen gave a demure nod as if it was to be expected, but the listeners on the other hand felt like the temperature had dropped.

“Not only have you started a terrible war that has claimed countless lives of your fellow man, but you have even dared to desecrate the palace and undermine my authority in my absence.”

The Queen looked at a few faces in the crowd, faces which swiftly cringed with fright, and then looked at puddles of blood and piles of ashes that stained her castle walls once more. “Mmh, you all have great guts.”

The Queen was indifferent to the increasing heart rates of her people and continued to survey the damage caused by the war. None of the constructions had actually suffered any damage thanks to them being crafted from the World’s natural resources (mostly wood), but there were stains everywhere and some of them wouldn’t be able to be cleaned. Not with the facilities that the Kingdom had at least.

The Queen turned back to her people with the same calm expression but inwardly she was extremely vexed. This whole war had been extremely foolish, and they were all going to have to pay for it.

Suddenly, a Fae boy of around 20 years suddenly fell limp. He was still held up by the branches wrapped around him but it was clear that he had fallen unconscious. The Queen’s attention snapped towards him and immediately noticed how serious his wounds were. If nothing was done then he was sure to die at any moment.

She didn’t need to look around to know that there were others who weren’t too far off from ending up like him and it took a bit of effort to stop the frustration that she felt from showing on her face.

“Fools…” she sighed.