A collaborative piece with CraziestToaster & Archi_Teuthis, about fairies at war =D
Celeste flew as fast as her fragile little wings would take her through the forest. This was usually the type of night she would fly slowly - to appreciate all the wonders of her home. The moon was shining over the silver birches, elms & oaks allowing tiny little beams of light to be thrown off the leaves like a thousand gleaming stars in the midnight sky. The air was electric with the volts of excitement working its way through each little creature in the forest. The forest smelt earthy, and spring was on its way - the plants and bulbs stretching & yawning under the ground, making themselves ready to spout into appearance when they got the call. This would perhaps be how she’d have seen it, if only she wasn’t desperately trying to escape her pursuer.
Instead the forest felt cold and desolate, the moon leaving nothing but a looming & ominous feeling that the end was nearing her at an ever faster pace. Shadows that were not there, jumped out at her and melted any light she may have appreciated if the circumstances were any different.
“The battle is getting worse” she thought to herself, “There we be no end other than death - and if I can’t get back to the rest of the clan, there’ll be nobody to warn them. They could all...no.” she would not think of that outcome, only of escaping from the army that was on her trail.
The war between fairies had been going on for centuries, and nobody quite knew what they were fighting for anymore. Still, they carried on - they would not let their families die in vain. There were four clans, each assigned to their own element, and they drew their powers from the skills vested in them by that element. Celeste was a fairy of ‘Air’, and so she shot through the forest like a glittering silver bullet - the only advantage she had over the fire fairies that were on her tale.
“Just a little further” she thought, “Just a little further & I’ll be home”. At that precise moment, a flaming ball shot at her like a comet dancing through the stratosphere, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake. She landed on the damp green moss, amongst the dew & dirt and a soft slow tear dragged down her pallid cheek in a little curving stream.
“I’m going to die”