"Looking for this emerald?" I pulled it out from my belt and held it up for all to see, letting the emerald's glow cast an eerie, unsettling light over the room. I dropped it back into place quickly, letting the flicker of its power linger in the air.
King Baltimore froze. His eyes locked onto the emerald, his lips twitching with disbelief. Nothing, however, could prepare me for the words that followed.
"Guards, change of plans. I want her executed!" The King's voice trembled, a mixture of fury and panic. "Seize her!"
I felt my heartbeat quicken, but I was far from afraid. Instead, I stood tall, my lips curling into a cold smile. "Executed, you say?" My voice dripped with defiance. "No, I will not die like this—not for doing what's right. Not after I just got out free."
A deep, heavy silence fell over the court. The weight of my words settled like a storm on the horizon. The red mists began to move from my surroundings, gathering, twisting and coiling around me, thick as smoke, serpentine in their grace, a reflection of the magic now simmering inside of me. My voice dropped to a low hiss. "Careful now."
The King recoiled, his face pale, eyes wide with panic. "What is this magic? What wand are you using?"
I smirked, my gaze steady and unwavering. "This?" I purred, my voice thick with dark amusement. "I am not using any wand, your majesty." The mist around me seemed to pulse, alive with intent. "This is the magic of obsession. A gift I'm sure you'll appreciate. Perfect for a control freak like you. Your guards will become obsessed with you. They'll agree with every word you say, every breath you take, every move you make. Just as you've always wanted."
The King's eyes darted between me and the elder Arisa, as if seeking some form of explanation. "Arisa!" he cried, his voice filled with a tremor. "What's happening? What's going on?"
Arisa rushed forward to intervene, but my mist struck with brutal force, shattering her wand in a burst of violent light. The crowd gasped in horror.
Fury blazed in Arisa's eyes. She lunged at me, but the mist spiraled around her, tightening like a vice. Her struggles were futile. She choked as the red mists entered her nose and ears.
"Oh, I've always wanted to do this," I murmured, letting the mist coil tighter around her throat, a cruel whisper in the dark. "It's going to hurt."
The red tendrils slid into her like knives made of memory. Her body spasmed. She gasped, then crumpled.
Sobs—ragged, primal—tore out of her as if her soul was being crushed from the inside out.
A heartbreak spell. Easy work.
The King stood frozen, terror locking his body in place. He watched, wide-eyed, as his most trusted elder crumbled before him, her sorrow echoing through the hall. Fear mixed with rage, but it was the fear that gripped him now.
"Get the other fairy elders!" he screamed. He tried to run but tripped. I was in front of him in an instant.
"Why?" I asked, my voice sharp, mocking. "You asked me what the purpose of a Love Fairy is?" I allowed a slow, cruel smile to spread across my face. "I'm showing you exactly what we truly are. Consider this your education."
The King's face twisted in disgust. "This magic is forbidden. It's an abomination. You've corrupted the purity and nobility of it."
"Purity?" I scoffed, my tone dripping with disdain. "Nobility? That's nothing more than hypocrisy from a false fairy king obsessed with his own reflection and lofty ideals."
As the guards scrambled, I stood unshaken, my silhouette cutting through the thick, suffocating red mist. The room was stifling, every soul within it tense, as though holding their breath. The King's shallow gasps filled the hall, mingling with the rising panic that seemed to ripple through the air. His terror spread like a disease, intensifying the confusion around him.
Doverel stood at the edge of the crowd, her wide eyes locked onto me, disbelief written all over her face. "What have you done?" she whispered, her voice trembling with an emotion I couldn't place.
My gaze flicked to her for a moment. My heart tightened briefly, a flicker of regret stirring within me. But it was fleeting—like a candle's light about to be extinguished by an incoming storm.
"You've forced me into this, Doverel," I replied, my voice cold. "The King wanted me executed. Remember that."
She took a step toward me, her voice desperate. "Scarlette, please, you're not this person. You're a Love Fairy! You heal lives. You save beings all from extinction."
Her words tore through me like a blade. My heart clenched as I stared at her, her words filled with a sorrow I hadn't expected. She was the only one who still believed in what I once was—the fairy who healed, the one who cared. But that person was slipping away, a distant memory.
"I'm not your savior, neither am I your friend" I snapped. "Not anymore. It's time the world saw what Love Magic really means—and what it costs."
Her eyes filled with tears. She opened her mouth to speak, but I turned my attention back to the King, the fire inside me roaring with renewed fury.
"You see," I said, the words escaping my lips with a cruel satisfaction, "I healed you once, didn't I, Your Majesty?" My gaze locked onto the King, the years of history between us pulsing through my every word. "You forgot, didn't you? Six centuries ago, during the Dark Fairy invasion. I saved your life. But this... this is the thanks I get?"
His face twisted in confusion, disbelief. "Wait...that was you? How can it be? What nonsense is this even?"
He forgot the cost of being saved. But I never did. The wound was mine to close… and mine to reopen.
"Of course, you forgot that too," I hissed, my fury building. "After all, you used the emerald to erase me from your memory. How could you remember the one who saved you?"
The King's rage boiled over, his face contorted with pure hatred. "Don't think for a second I'll let you get away with this because of some stupid lie. Your insubordination will not be forgiven."
"Insubordination?" I mocked. "I am the rightful Queen, you pompous charlatan! You were the one who insubordinated. You erased me! I am the first Love Fairy!"
Baltimore looked at me and from his pocket, he took out a wand—but I stepped on it like it was a twig.
My eyes narrowed, cold as winter's bite. "It's not a lie, and I really wish you hadn't done that."
In an instant, the red mist rushed toward him from my palms. It engulfed him, swirling around him, sinking deep into his nostrils. His breath hitched in shock as his eyes widened. A deep, gaping wound appeared on his chest, as though something within him was being torn apart from the inside. Blood spilled from the wound, hot and fast, as if his very essence was being devoured.
"You'll see what I'm saying is the truth," I whispered, my voice a bitter, mocking hiss. "The attack did happen, Your Majesty."
The red mist continued to swirl, and the cut on his chest deepened. It mirrored the wound from six centuries ago, a cruel, poetic repetition.
"And now," I said, my voice like ice, "I've taken back my healing."
Screams erupted as the guards rushed toward the King, scrambling to shield him. But it was too late. Their movements were frantic, desperate, but utterly futile. They couldn't stop the flow of blood, couldn't save him now.
"Scarlette, please! I am sorry! I will give you anything.." Baltimore's voice cracked, desperate, his breath shallow and broken. But I was already slipping through the shadows, vanishing in a swirl of red mist.
"I'd be a real fool if I trusted your lies." I walked away as I saw him bleeding profusely. His guards, under the influence of my obsession magic, hugged him and kissed his hands constantly.
"Please… Tell me I am your favourite," they each begged him.
"Help me…" he whimpered, but his words fell on deaf ears.
"Sorry it has to be this way," I whispered into his mind, my voice cold and haunting. "Look what you made me do. But it's too late now."
The words wrapped around him, suffocating him, as my presence dissolved into the dark corners of the kingdom, my final warning hanging in the air like a whispered curse.
As he turned lifeless, I heard screaming and panic all around the courts, but I did not feel sorrow.
The real sorrow was standing in a room of your own kind… and feeling completely alone.