A/N: G'day!

So, this one will have shorter chapters (this lil' blighter is one of the larger ones) - not sure if they still really count as chapters actually. But if I don't update ALE (haha I love that acronym), then the hope is that I'll update this fella right here.

Either way, I hope it's enjoyable xx

Chapter 1

The moonlight crept down from the sky, slowly exposing roots and leaves across the forest floor. Deafening silence reigned as the world held its breath, the knowledge that something was about to occur. The type of something which unbalances the very time to which life clings to. Something that will change everything.

Such somethings are littered throughout history, easy to see for those willing to look. In fact, if you were to map them all, you would find that this is the natural state of the world. These sorts of life-altering moments are in fact what we, as time-experiencing beings, fully exist in, and the moments of supposed peace act as a waiting room for the next period of something.

As it stands, this specific something was a particularly important something, the likes of which occur rather more infrequently than even the moments of peace. And so, it was with great prudence that the world did indeed hold its breath as it waited for the something to make itself known.

This something came in the form of a pair of beings, trudging through the undergrowth with the grace of those attempting to remain silent but having very little practice at doing so. This is a common plight among humans (for the beings were indeed belonging to the human race – albeit a small offshoot known as Wixen) and so I mean no insult – they were making a reasonable job of going undetected. It's not as if they really had a chance anyway.

A shadowed figure watched the pair of Wix as they stumbled along the beaten down deer trail. All light seemed to evade the figure as they slipped between the trees, elegant as a dancer moving through the set. Her partners, old and wooded though they may be, never once faltering as they passed her off to the next, the faint whistle of the wind singing in time to the ancient dance. The dance of the hunter.

The Wix wandered on, unaware of the threat looming over them. The tallest and oldest one, Ronan, led the way forward, eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of danger or, at the very least, a small or medium sized hut within which he could sit, rest, put his feet up, read in front of a fireplace as the smell of freshly baked cookies wafted over, just like the ones Mother used to…

CRACK!

Ronan and his companion both jumped slightly, stilling their movements to a standstill. This was it.

"Ronan, you idiot!" hissed the other, a young girl by the name of Marianne, "Alert the whole fricking forest, why don't you?" She threw her hands up in frustration.

Slowly, Ronan lowered his eyes down to the ground, to his foot, where the offending twig lay, cracked, on either side of his boot. Scowling, he turned his head to look the girl in the eyes, careful not to move his foot.

"What are we even doing out here, Marianne? Oh. That's right! You wanted to pick flowers. And now we're stuck in this Merlin-be-damned forest, out for a lovely midnight stroll." He huffed and turned back, crossing his arms petulantly, as a shadow flickered back into place behind a tree, eyes alert.

Marianne crossed her arms, eyes flashing in anger, "You're the one who said you knew where you were going! Come with me, Marianne. Follow me because I know everything." She imitated in a mocking tone, "Well look where your intelligence brought us now big brother."

Their whispered debate echoed across the clearing they were stopped in, aided by the silence of the surrounds in carrying through the forest like an alert, only differentiable from the wind by those of exceptional hearing and practice at this kind of thing.

Ronan was getting worked up, "See! This is why Mother left! She couldn't take any more of your shit."

His sister answered by stomping her foot on the ground, arms still crossed as she countered, "Oh please, like it wasn't your incessant whining that drove her away, you wanker." She scrunched up her face, "Mummy, why does no-one like me? You like me, don't you Mummy? Oh Mummy, tell the other kids to be nice to me. I love you ever so much Mummy. Mummy, Mummy, Mumm–!"

With a growl, Ronan launched himself at Marianne, covering her mouth forcefully with his hands and effectively cutting her off. Eyes wide, the siblings seemed to both realise where they were as the sound of a throat clearing reverberated across the clearing.

Sending their glances over to the other side of the empty space, they saw a figure, the same one which had been stalking them, standing in the gap between two trees. Obviously female, the figure stood with all the confidence of one who was completely at home in the forest, of one who, in fact, called the forest home. Her eyes, normally dim in the name of blending in, flashed yellow, a warning to those who understood. The air surrounding her seemed to shimmer and crackle with pure force, her power obvious. Her face was slanted and pointy, with a type of ethereal grace and beauty. She was obviously not human.

"May I enquire as to why the two of you have been bumbling about my forest?" Her voice was melodic as it rang out clear across the distance. It was the sort of voice that sounded like the wind one minute, or the rustling of leaves the next, but there was a hard edge to it, if you knew where to look. And the Wix did know where to look.

They gulped.

Marianne took a step forward, "We apologise profusely ma'am. We were simply looking for flowers in the woods behind our cottage, but we seemed to have lost our way."

The being observed Marianne with sharp, but by no means harsh, gaze. Marianne fidgeted under the penetrating look, glancing down.

Ronan filled the space beside his sister, "Would you be able to point us in the right direction please ma'am?"

The being's head swivelled to look at Ronan, as he too looked down under her stare.

After a moment, the figure took a step into the clearing, closer to the pair just beyond the centre. "I will take you where you wish to go." The two Wix let out a small sigh of relief, tension leaking out of them. "But be warned, this part of the forest is dangerous to those like you. You would do well to not get lost again."

"Yes, Lady Vivan."

The figure froze in the centre of the clearing, "What did you say?" She whispered, dread filling her voice.

Marianne and Ronan shared a wicked smile, and spoke together, "Yes, Lady Vivan."

It's at times like these, when you realise that not everything is as it seems, where the correct response is something along the lines of 'Oh, buggering hell.', or 'Well, fuck.', or even 'Really? This again?'. Personally, I prefer the first as it completely encompasses both the current situation (buggered) and the final destination of one or all of the involved parties (hell). Of course, personal preference plays a large role in the chosen response, as well as the immediate action, but I have found that one of these three responses are generally employed.

Lady Vivan, upon hearing this, and realising that these two seemingly unsuspecting, and apparently lost, Wix do, in fact, know where they are, and are rather suspect in their activities, opted for the 'Well, fuck.' route. Internally, of course.

Externally, well, let's just say there was a bit of a discord.

"You two are rather good actors, I must say."

Marianne smiled brightly, a dark glint in her eyes as she cheerfully responded, "Thank you, your Ladyship. We tried ever so hard." She fluttered her eyelashes at the trapped Lady Vivan, "You must understand how much work we put into this. You see, it's not everyday you trap a Nymph."

Ronan laughed darkly, "And you are a rather special Nymph, aren't you, your Ladyship?" He tilted his head to the side as he regarded her, "You know, I think we might just throw a party in honour of your capture."

The two were now circling Vivan, mocking her with their words. Marianne licked her lips in anticipation, "I think that is an excellent idea, my dear brother. In fact, maybe we could name a holiday after her!"

Ronan had come a full circle now, and stopped in front of the Nymph, "It's a shame you won't be able to make it, Lady Vivan."

Marianne let out a mocking laugh as she walked behind and stopped next to her brother, leaning in close to Lady Vivan to deliver her final mockery, "It's sure to be one hell of a time.".

Turning around with a flourish, she walked toward the edge of the clearing, wiggling her fingers over her shoulder in goodbye as she called out, "Well, cheerio!".

Her brother backed out after her, maintaining eye contact with the fallen Nymph, as he smirked at her in triumph, before turning around and running after his sister, calling out, "Annie, wait up!".

The answering "Hurry up, slow coach!" could be heard as they faded into the tree line.

In the clearing, Lady Vivan closed her eyes. The magic the Wix had set was ancient (it had to be in order to catch a Nymph) and virtually undetectable. There was no way out.

And now, the circle was complete. The only thing left to do was wait for the end.

As the circle began to glow, Vivan whispered, "I'm sorry, my dear child. Forgive me."

And it was done.

Marianne and Ronan looked back at the glowing blue light flashing across the sky and smiled as the shock wave rippled out from the centre, from the once Lady Vivan, whipping past them and off into the night, an echo of the agony of the essence of the world itself. Turning to Ronan, Marianne grinned, "We did it, my dear brother."

"That we did, my dear sister."

"The Queen is dead."

"And long live the King."

Laughing, the two ran off, gaily chasing each other through the forest, no longer caring about what dangers lurked within, for they had destroyed the most dangerous of them all. After all, what do the victors have to fear from the losing team?