Feron cleared his throat, looking at [Y/n] and whispering "soon" under his breath, before turning back to the assembling group.

And then, in a calm, yet victorious voice:

"Our Queen has arrived."

[Y/n] was about to object but the crowd below started chanting and calling up to them. She couldn't decipher a single word they said, but the looks of exultation, relief, jubilance and pride that emanated from the group reassured her that they probably weren't going to roast her on a spit. Is that a thing magical cults do? [Y/n] didn't really want to hang around and find out, but it seemed she would have no choice.

[Y/n] turned her gaze to Feron, who was occupied watching the crowd, his grey reptilian tail sweeping against the stone they stood on, marking light striations across the previously pristine surface. She quietly cleared her throat, and his vibrant magenta eyes fixed on her as he tilted his head. The crowd grew slightly quieter now, noticing that the pair were about to speak, the nosier of them shutting up entirely in hopes that the rest would follow so they could overhear. Though much to [Y/n]'s relief, not everyone silenced themselves.

"What is it?" Feron encouraged, his tail now mostly still - the tip was merely flicking up and down.

"I... would like to speak to them," [Y/n] said quietly. He shrugged.

"Go ahead. You'll have to speak louder than that, though." He paused, realising she was probably too scared to speak loudly. Clearing his throat, he bellowed a command for silence, instantly quieting the gathering of mythical creatures. "Your Queen wishes to speak," he then said, much calmer now.

[Y/n] took a small step forward, though not too far as she feared falling off the steep rock. Having survived three months of hell with vampires, it would be rather anticlimactic to die falling off a tall stone.

"I... simply wanted to tell you, w-with all due respect to the pair that brought me here... I think you have the wrong person," [Y/n] mumbled out. She watched as the group shuffled around, unsure, whispering to one another. Their pride was now faltering. Feron rolled his eyes.

"You're [Y/n], am I correct? The one who charmed the king of the vampires?" Feron questioned, a brow raised as the yet-again silent crowd watched eagerly for her response.

"Yes... I am..." she responded, "but how does that qualify me to lead a group of beings I've never even heard of?" she sighed. Feron shrugged.

"There are books that will teach you," he said calmly.

"B-but why would you go to this much effort just because I survived the vampires?" [Y/n] huffed out, now a little frustrated. Though as her peripheral gaze rested on the crowd again, she noticed many of them were smiling. Relief washed over them and some were even amused at what they perceived to be her humility.

"[Y/n], I am now certain that you have no idea how significant your actions were to us. Because of you, our brethren are free. No longer will the vampires enslave us. And with The Bloody King gone, we can finally avenge the ones who couldn't come home." [Y/n] paused, her eyes widening. They didn't think that she killed Olli, did they...? "We are forever in debt to you, [Y/n]." [Y/n] took a few steps back, eyes wide and suddenly tearful. Feron was clearly a little confused at why the girl, who'd just been imprisoned, was close to tears at the subject of Olli's death.

"Y-you have it all wrong... Olli showed me kindness, I— I didn't kill him! I didn't want him to die!"

There was an angry roar from the congregation below. In an instant their gazes were cold, and Feron gave [Y/n] a small glare before stepping back and shifting to his dragon form to silence the protesters. [Y/n] looked back at the colossal figure, who didn't dare approach the overhang of the rock, fully understanding that his body weighed far too much for the rock to support.

"We do not care whether it was your intention for him to die, [Y/n]," Feron began carefully, intending to sway the group back in her favour, "and I am sorry to hear that his facile charm brought you so close. Had you spent a little longer with him, I'm sure this wouldn't be so hard for you," he said softly. [Y/n] herself couldn't tell whether Feron was genuinely compassionate towards her or just putting on an act to get the masses to like her again, but whichever it was, it worked for her. The group clearly didn't want her head on a spike anymore, swayed very easily by the words of Feron - who they trusted with their lives - and she'd rather stay on the good side of a dragon. "What matters to us is that he is dead, and you are one of the few non vampiric beings to enter and leave Kutelo alive. For that, you have our utmost respect."

[Y/n] was nervously fiddling with the torn skirts of the dress she had been wearing for what felt like an eternity... she realised the blood soaked, torn up fabric certainly didn't make her look very regal. She wanted it off, though she wasn't exactly prepared to strip off in front of strangers, so she'd simply stare at it contemptuously for now. She was about to start crying again at the memory of who the blood belonged to before she flinched at the feeling of a hand on her back. She spun around, face to face with a short blonde boy, his golden tresses messy - dishevelled - and his bright green eyes soft and kind. He was wearing butler's attire... very familiar butlers attire.

In fact... [Y/n] had seen this boy before. Though she was sure he was now less of a boy than when she'd seen him, despite having only encountered him weeks ago... he looked at least 5 years older, though maybe that was a trick of the light and she was simply remembering incorrectly.

"Y-you were the one of the head butlers in the palace!" [Y/n] said, her voice high in pitch from the tone of realisation. She recalled a scene of him opening the doors of the great training hall - he'd made himself so scarce, yet she'd begun noting all the butlers and maids shortly before seeing him. He chuckled and nodded.

"I was planning on rescuing you and bringing you here after the king died, but when I reached the site you were already gone. My deepest apologies," he said, dipping his head and performing a small bow. "My name is Al," he continued, "captain of the fairies." As if to reinforce his greeting, a pair of silvery wings burst from his back as though erupting from his skin, though he didn't seem at all in pain. It was macabre yet unsettlingly bewitching. [Y/n], slightly shakily, extended a hand for Al to shake. The boy took a moment to recognise the human gesture before calling the appropriate response and shaking her hand with a polite smile.

"P-pleasure to meet you, Al," [Y/n] stuttered. "How... did you escape?" The boy let out a light laugh.

"Only a part of me was there. Fairies who have perfected their skills can split their bodies. We can make ourselves dust, and from that dust we can reform new versions of ourselves. However," he paused, letting go of her hand and deciding to turn a couple of his fingers into the dust he'd spoken of, allowing it to reside in his other palm, "the beings will always be younger than yourself, and the age will depend on how much of yourself you split. The remaining part of yourself will be as strong as the fraction you leave behind. So when I sent a third of myself to Kutelo, my real body had to go into hiding as even something small like a cold could kill me." [Y/n] watched as he recalled the dust to his body, the strange, glistening particles integrating themselves in his skin. She wondered how rare it was to be able to perform a trick like this as the crowd below were watching Al with awe - even the fairies.

"Al, save the monologue for when you two are speaking alone," Feron hummed. "What did you come here to say?"

Al blinked in surprise, turning to look at [Y/n] with a sheepish smile. "Sorry. I often get sidetracked," he laughed softly. "I intended to thank you for your kindness towards Hetti." [Y/n] froze up a little at the mention of her name, and it was apparent that Al found this a painful subject to speak on as well. He bit his lip to keep the rest of him from faltering. "Hetti was my friend, and was well loved here. When she was taken, we felt like we'd lost a part of ourselves." He looked down. "When I perfected splitting myself and arrived at Kutelo, Hetti had lost a major part of herself, too. She could no longer smile, and-" Al paused to take in a breath, "she didn't recognise me. I was her brother, though she had no idea who I was."

[Y/n]'s eyes widened. Looking closer, they looked shockingly alike. The blonde boy took in a shaky inhale.

"The Kutelo system strips us of our names, our powers, our purpose, and forces us to forget the ones we love. I... I am forever grateful to you. You allowed Hetti's last days to feel purposeful. Though she's no longer with us, you let her feel love again." The boy took a moment, wiping the building tears from his eyes, inhaling the fresh mountain air as though it were a cure to all illness. "Thank you, [Y/n]."

Without a second thought, [Y/n] moved to wrap her arms around the grieving boy. There was complete silence from the group below now, and Feron watched on, feeling an odd sense of familiarity to the boy before him.

The wind was bitterly cold up here, [Y/n] noticed. She felt something bitter on the back of her neck. Letting go of Al, the pair looked up at the sky.

Silver flakes of glistening snow fell slowly. The sky was a shade of grey. Not threateningly dark, but not welcoming either. The snow brought smiles to the faces of some of the younger creatures below. A wolf pup the size of a Great Dane leapt in an attempt to catch one of the flakes, and its mother decided to lead it from the group so it could play without disturbing anyone.

[Y/n] turned to look at Al, who stared up at the sky, tears staining his face.

"I promised myself I wouldn't cry," he laughed softly, turning to meet [Y/n]'s gaze. "I look like a baby," he sighed, his breath clouding in front of him like dragon's smoke.

"You look like someone with empathy and compassion. Don't beat yourself down for crying over someone you love," [Y/n] softly uttered. Though, ironically, she was holding back tears also. She felt it would be wrong to cry for Hetti right now - after all, she only knew Hetti for a number of days. Al was her blood relation. And she knew she couldn't cry for Olli in front of this group.

Feron cleared his throat. Everyone turned to face the great dragon once more.

"[Y/n]," he began, "this meeting has gone on long enough. I shall conclude it with the aim that most likely should've been specified to begin with," he growled out, though their was no malice in his tone. [Y/n] nodded slowly, watching him take in a breath as he prepared himself for what he wanted to say.

"For a long time now, we of Vihren have wished to wage war against those of Kutelo. The great wars of the past are still fresh in many of our memories, and many of us have lost loved ones to their kind. But ultimately, we would like you to decide."

There was a moment of tenseness in the crowd below. [Y/n] felt her breath taken away by the suffocating nature of it.

"Will you lead us to war?"