Huan Strongarm: A Bartfort Folktale

by Vergil Creiger

In which a simple delivery to Holfort goes horribly horribly wrong.

9. The UnFae

When I was a little girl, Leon once told me stories about the UnFae. He said that they were fairies who had their souls leached away by evil humans, leaving them as vicious, cruel monsters with no will of their own. He used to make up all sorts of silly stories, and at the time I assumed the UnFae were one of them.

Then I started researching for this book. I'm probably going to sleep with the lights on for the rest of my life.

Huan Strongarm: A Bartfort Folktale, by Lufas Maphaahl

Leon punched the creature in the face, tearing its head clean off its shoulders to explode against the wall. A second UnFae - which in hindsight the first one had been a diversion for - jumped from the ceiling and landed on his back, biting a chunk out of his neck and clawing at his eyes.

He took advantage of his impossibly flexible shoulders to reach back and grab it, slamming it so hard into a third UnFae (that had come running through the open door to spring at him) that they both exploded into gooey chunks. Leon was so busy falling to his knees and puking that he almost couldn't defend against a fourth close on its heels; he managed to kick its legs out from under it, then rise to his feet and pick it up by its waist and nape.

He slammed the screaming monster into the wall, destroying its head, neck and spine in one brutal motion. He dropped it as the sounds of many more echoed through the building. "Fall back!"

They barely made it into the cell in time; a great wave of screaming spitting UnFae poured into the tiny hallway, so many it felt like they could drown under them all. Leon picked up the cell door and used it as a barricade, but they were still able to reach through the bars and scratch at his face and arms as Iven cowered behind him.

"Leon!" he sobbed. "You have to know that there's no way I'm getting out of this alive! You need to save yourself!"

"Shut the hell up!" Leon snarled, making the mistake of looking over his shoulder. The creatures took advantage of his distraction to push him back, until he and Iven had their backs to the far cell wall with the severed door the only thing between them and being torn to shreds. "Get on my back!"

"What?"

"Just shut up and get on my back!" When Iven was in place, Leon began placing pressure on the top half of the door while giving ground near the bottom, which raised until he had to place his feet on it and kept going. Soon the UnFae had lifted the door above their heads, with them standing on top of it. As they swelled upward he braced his hands against the ceiling, fighting valiantly against being crushed.

With a furious roar of exertion he straightened his arms and legs, crushing and killing a few of the monsters as they were pressed against the ground. Between Leon, the UnFae and the ceiling the ceiling broke first, shattering as the tide of shrieking nightmares lifted them upward. As they were carried to the first floor ceiling, Leon raised his fists and glared.

He punched straight through it to the second floor, and again to the roof and the open air. The UnFae began to spill out, falling screaming to the streets of the Old City as the door carrying Leon and Iven began to clatter downward over the roof tiles; Leon jumped away at the last second, cradling his friend in his arms as they rolled painfully across the pavement.

Eventually they came to a stop, both bruised but alive. "Why aren't we fucking dead?" croaked Leon. They both screamed as an UnFae leapt at them with a howl, only to be kicked away by a massive hoof attached to an equally massive leg. "Horsey!"

The Warhorse whinnied in greeting, having remained on guard outside the base the entire time. When it began to violently murder any creature that got close Leon jumped to his feet, utilising the Strongarm to full effect. For a while they decimated the shrieking horde, but matter how fast Leon's punches and how powerful the Warhorse's kicks, there seemed to be no end to them.

"We need to get out of here!" Leon shouted. "We're easy targets if we stay here!" The Warhorse snorted and gestured to its back, making him almost fall over with surprise. "Seriously? Are you sure?" He snorted again, this time with a slight eye roll. "Fine, no need to be sarcastic. Iven! Come on, we're going!"

"Going where?" Iven gave a maidenly squeak as Leon picked him up; as he ran to the Warhorse an UnFae lunged at them, only for the freezing axe to come flying out of nowhere and chop its head off.

"Thank you!"

The Warhorse galloped away as soon as they were on his back, the yowling legion hot on their heels. Occasionally the axe would swoop down and kill a few, but at this point it was like spitting into the wind.

"Aravind!" Leon barked, having spotted the man sitting on a crate with a sandwich. The Warhorse briefly slowed so they could talk. "Tell him to get the Head Takers! We need reinforcements!"

Aravind spat his mouthful across the street. "Who? What? How?" The Warhorse returned to his maximum speed as the UnFae turned the corner behind them. "Oh shit!" he shouted, running home faster than he ever had in his life.

They were now rapidly approaching the Keep; there was a guard out front, but due to the face concealing visor he couldn't tell whether it was Gorbus or not. "Open the gate!" The guard looked up, noticed him, then did a massive double take when he saw what he was running from. "Open the goddamn gate!"

The man began frantically screaming and hammering at the gate to open, which it eventually did.

"Yes!"

The guard and a few other people ran inside, and the portcullis immediately began to close.

"No!"

The Warhorse ran at full tilt as the metal gate slowly lowered; at the last second he tripped, whinnying in panic as he slid across the cobblestones. Leon slammed his metal knuckles into the pavement, kicking up a flash of sparks as he kept both the Warhorse and himself from hitting the ground through leg and abdominal strength alone.

His knuckles left long grooves in the ground, and they only just barely made it under the gate before it closed. As soon as they were inside the Keep he used his aching arm to push himself off the ground, launching the Warhorse back onto his feet. He reared up and whinnied as the UnFae hurled themselves at the portcullis, hissing and grasping through the bars only to be trampled by the creatures behind them.

Leon turned to look at the prison's guards, who had slightly starstruck expressions on their faces. "Don't just stand there! Take cover in the Keep!" Leon dismounted as they began running around like headless chickens, leaving Iven where he was. He noticed a man with slicked back grey hair walking towards him, flanked by a pair of mini mechs the size of the Warhorse named Riotguards; they had a yellow paint job and huge hands with three fingers, each of which was basically a machine gun.

From the man's spangly gold clothing, Leon guessed he was the Warden.

"And what exactly gives you the right to tell my men what to do?" he asked haughtily. The Riotguards pointed their fingerguns at him.

"Because there's a fucking invasion outside!" Leon snapped, not unreasonably. "What did you want them to do? Roll over and die?"

"Leon?" said Iven nervously. "Maybe you should-"

"Shut up!" the Warden barked at him, instantly earning Leon's ire. The spangly loser turned his attention back to him. "I expect them to follow my orders," replied the Warden coolly. "Now why don't you go with my men to a cell where you can be safe?"

Before he could tell him it was a bad idea the Warhorse kicked one of the Riotguards across the courtyard, and when the second turned its guns on him Leon punched it away. Both machines were reduced to a sparking, quivering mess.

"I don't think I'm going to do that," said Leon flatly. Iven cringed in the background as the Warden's smile froze on his face. Almost imperceptibly, he began to sweat.

Two more robots dropping down from the ramparts, these ones fully automated. They were bipedal, with long, delicate legs supporting huge vulcan cannons. These legs made them incredibly vulnerable to the freezing axe, which spun in out of nowhere and shredded them below the knees before landing smugly in his waiting palm.

Leon resisted the urge to comment on how ridiculously useful they would have been against the UnFae, realising it was only trying to help.

The Warden panicked and fled, screaming as he ran. "Send in the Heavyguards! Someone, send in the fucking Heavyguards!"

Yet another mecha lumbered onto the scene: this one had a cylindrical body larger than an adult Head Taker, with stubby little legs and machine guns at its side. Leon and the Warhorse ran in opposite directions as a small hatch opened on its roof, firing a missile straight at them.

Leon made a garbled noise of frustration when it blew up the front gate, allowing a tidal wave of UnFae to pour into the courtyard. Two more bipedal robots painted a garish red colour with twin gatling guns came out to fight them, accompanied by several more Heavyguards and a few smaller bipeds with smooth white hulls. The two sides began laying waste to one another, but it was becoming increasingly obvious that the creatures were still in insistent pursuit of poor Iven.

Leon joined him on the Warhorse's back, riding up the stairs to the battlements with the UnFae in close behind. He kept his eye out for a roof high enough to jump to, but it appeared no one was dumb enough to make such an easy escape route from a maximum security prison. Soon they ran out of battlements, the road ending in a locked door.

They were a good distance ahead of the horde, so when the Warhorse did a one eighty they had a bit of time before they caught up. Leon sighed tiredly and pulled out the axe. "Iven," he said quietly. "I'm sorry. There's not much more I can do here."

"You could always leave me behind," said Iven dryly. For some reason that made Leon laugh, and soon Iven was laughing too. The Warhorse just rolled his eyes, clearly not having signed up for this shit.

When they were only a few metres away a prehensile tail reached up over the side of the wall, grabbing one of the UnFae by the throat and flinging it to its death. The Head Taker pack clambered onto the wall, obliterating the howling monstrosities in a way that the Warden's machines could only envy. One of the younglings skittered up to them and leapt into Leon's arms, nuzzling giddily under his chin.

He cursed under his breath, tucking the axe back into his belt before it cut itself.

A figure with long white hair was standing on a rooftop down below. Leon gave him a grateful thumbs up, which he seemed to return.

"Heya, fellas!" he said brightly. Jinyan's favourite Big Scary was holding the line all by itself - violently tearing their heads off and eating them - allowing the rest to turn around and say hello. They were giving Iven and the Warhorse some apprehensive looks, but seemed willing to give them the benefit of the doubt. "Now, you can probably tell that I'm in trouble. If you want to back out, now's the time."

The Head Takers crooned lovingly. The message was clear: they stayed, come what may.

"Iven? Can you get down, please?" He helped him down from the Warhorse's back. "Guys, this is Iven. He's the one that those things are after, but he's been alone for a long time and he's still recovering. I need your help getting him out of here."

This seemed to resonate with some of the Head Takers, who Leon later realised were all parents. They gathered around Iven and nuzzled him sympathetically; one particularly maternal (paternal?) Head Taker picked him up with its tail and placed him in its back-pouch, where its offspring immediately began to cuddle him.

"Leon?"

"Yes?"

"I think I love them."

"I think I love them more."

"Do not."

Leon smiled and shook his head, turning back to the Warhorse. He sniffed at the young Head Taker in his arms, who curiously sniffed back. "We're going to be fleeing across the rooftops, which means you need to take a detour. Wait until we lead them away, then head for the gate; if you don't, the Warden might try something. We'll be heading for the marketplace so you can meet up there, but don't be afraid to stop for a rest. Okay?"

The Warhorse butted his hand, which he took as a yes. Leon awkwardly cradled the infant in his left arm so he could take out the axe.

"I need you to protect the Head Takers," he said quietly. "Make sure nobody gets picked off by the green skins. If you have to choose between me and them, save them." The axe hummed in his palm, and began to circle vigilantly through the air after he hurled it into the sky. Leon lifted the youngling so he could whisper in its ear, "Whose back do you ride on again?"

It chirruped, pointing with its tail.

As Leon had predicted, the UnFae were far more interested in pursuing Iven than in the Warhorse or the Keep. They threw themselves recklessly off the walls as they continued the chase, their screams only matched by those coming from Leon himself.

He and Iven were on the backs of adult Head Takers, both of them sharing the pouches with their offspring. The creatures had chosen to launch themselves off the battlements with giddy abandon, both men screaming as the pack began to Tarzan from the rooftops using their prehensile tails. Leon imagined that this was how Spider-Man must have felt if he shot webs from his feet.

He threw up mid-swing, presumably ruining some unlucky stranger's afternoon.

Although the UnFae were still following them, they had gained quite a bit of distance. "There!" Iven managed to say, which automatically made him manlier than Leon. "The marketplace!"

The Head Takers landed dramatically in the square, scaring the shit out of the innocent shoppers. "People of Holfort!" Leon shouted, blinking dizzily as his vision continued to swim. "I know what you're thinking, but these creatures are harmless! They eat only chocolate!"

There was a moment of confusion before someone threw a chocolate bar; one of the younglings snapped it out of the air, chirruping happily.

"There is, however, an army of bloodthirsty demons heading to this location right now, so I'm going to need you to calmly and quickly evacuate to somewhere safe!" The crowd erupted into concerned murmurs. "DON'T JUST STAND THERE! GET YOUR SHIT AND GO!"

The Head Takers watched in bemusement as they then began to run screaming in all directions. Some of the guards started making frantic efforts to establish order. A few in particular ran towards him. "Lord Leon!"

"Earis!" Leon felt pathetically grateful for the familiar face. "Please tell me you're here to help!"

"Of course I am! It's literally my job!" Despite the bold words he was tightly gripping the hilt of Aesik's sword, no doubt imagining the worst of Leon's pursuers. "You came at a good time; my unit just got here to pass on their sympathies."

A decently sized band of armoured men and women had gathered behind him; Leon recognised Gorbus and Deionarra, who had brought their friends, as well as the large man with the enormous sword who had been on watch with Earis when he delivered his uncle's blade. Speaking of which, he had just given some chocolate to one of the Head Takers and was curiously scratching it under the chin. "How are they so ugly and so cute at the same time?"

Earis had taken the opportunity to help Iven down from his Head Taker's back. "So what's the plan?"

Leon looked around. A lot of people had already evacuated, except for a few who were trying to pack as many things as possible. "Can you and your men set up a barricade?"

"Absolutely!" Earis nodded. "We can use those crates and wagons!"

"I have a better idea. Jarl! Jarl, are you still here?"

"What?" shouted Jarl crankily, only now emerging from his shop. He looked around the abandoned square in confusion. "Where did everybody go?"

"Monster stampede!" Leon rushed out. The phrase was so common in manga and light novels that it probably existed in this world too. "Does your shop sell portable barricades?"

Jarl just gave him an overwhelmed look. "Monster stam… What?"

"Does your shop sell portable barricades!" snapped Leon.

"I- Yes! Yes it does!" Before he had even asked, Jarl turned and ran back to his shop. Leon turned back to the gathered guards, who had begun looking to him for leadership. "Don't just stand there! Help him!" They scattered in all directions like startled sheep. "And somebody please, CALL FOR REINFORCEMENTS!"

"E-Excuse me?" The speaker was a short young man with blond hair. He wasn't wearing armour, but his uniform marked him as a member of the city guard. "Can I help at all?"

Leon just looked at him for a moment. "What's your name?"

"Rickert Williams."

"Do you know that merchant by the city gate?"

"The Great Ragneli?"

"That's the one. He has an enchanted bow that could be very useful in this situation. I need you to find him and get him to lend it to you. Can you do that for me?"

Rickert pumped his fist, clenching his jaw with determination. "You can count on me!" he promised, and then ran off.

"Be careful you don't trip!" Leon shouted after him. He ran over to the guards as they emerged from Jarl's shop, helping them assemble the barricade. It mainly consisted of a wooden fence with thick wooden stakes poking through it, forming a wall of spikes on which the enemy could impale themselves.

"Do we really need that bow?" asked Deionarra curiously. Leon gave a short, harsh bark of laughter.

"Probably, but mostly I just wanted the kid off the battlefield."

By now the UnFae had caught up, an immense swell of scrabbling bodies tearing down the street towards them like a flood.

"What the fuck?" rasped Gorbus. "WHAT THE FUCK!"

"Are those UnFae?"

"Yes!" shouted Leon. "Now go hide!"

Jarl ran back to his shop as the guards prepared for battle, while Iven hid shivering behind a crate. "This feels a little one sided," remarked the big man with the sword. Leon gave him a dry look.

"We could all tie one arm behind our backs if you want to make it a fair fight." This got a ripple of laughter and deflated some of the tension. The monsters drew closer, until they could see their gnashing fangs and lidless eyes. "God their noses look stupid."

The entire group was laughing when the wave hit them, starting the battle with peak morale. The guards of Holfort fought shoulder to shoulder with the Head Takers, tearing apart anything that breached the barrier. The human fighters stabbed across the barricade with sword and axe and spear and mace, while the ravenous chocoholics ripped the UnFae apart and ate their heads.

Earis had learned that his uncle's sword was alarmingly sharp, shredding multiple enemies with each swing with almost no resistance. His friend left huge swathes of dead UnFae in his wake, his immense sword acting as much as a bludgeoning weapon as it did a blade. An even larger man fought by his side, wielding a colossal warhammer to devastating effect. Leon stood between Earis and his friend, his every punch sending a foe flying into the distance.

Deionarra and Gorbus held opposite flanks, not giving an inch under the onslaught. "I'm sorry," he shouted. "Can you please tell me your last name? Your first name is too long!"

The look she gave him would have gotten her clawed if her friend hadn't thrown a knife into the UnFae's eye. "Is this really the time?"

"Well when is a good time?" Leon demanded. When a particularly brave creature leapt over the barricade he grabbed it with both hands; he was so sick of them by this point that he straight up broke its back over his knee, then threw it back into the throng where it was presumably trampled to death. "Unless your last name is also long. Then just don't bother."

The big guy with the sword grabbed one of them by its shirt, holding it in place while the Head Taker he befriended bit its head off. "Her name is Casca."

"Casca?"

"Casca."

"Well why didn't she just say so?"

"Yeah, Casca!" the big guy said snidely. A few of the guards cracked grins.

"Yeah, Casca!" they chorused childishly. Even the guy who kept throwing knives had to laugh, though he instantly stopped when she turned and glared at him.

"Shut the hell up, Judeau!"

No one had died yet, mostly because of the axe occasionally swooping down to help people who were in trouble. Leon stepped back a bit, pulling a handful of rocks out of his pocket that he had picked up while looking for Zane. He began throwing them into the wall of monsters at impossible speeds, each stone tearing holes through dozens of UnFae before coming to a stop.

"Holy crap, Leon!" Earis yelped. "Why didn't you start with these?" A few people turned to look at him curiously.

"I'm gonna be totally honest: I forgot I had these."

One of the UnFae grabbed Earis by his wrist while he was distracted, intent on dragging him to his death. Leon realised he had run out of stones and panicked; with a battlecry he ran forward and punched it, his gauntleted fist passing straight through its chest and out of its back in an explosion of gore.

Although Earis had staggered free, Leon's arm was now stuck in the dead creature. The swarm jumped on the chance, dragging him kicking and screaming into the mass of biting scratching bodies.

"Leon!" Iven screamed, so hard his throat tore and bled. "No!"

With an animal roar Leon flung the UnFae away, lashing out with both arms and creating a small area of calm around himself. For the first time since he had received it, he drew the bastard sword.

The blade tore through them like tissue paper, the immense speed granted by the Strongarm ability transforming into unreal cutting power. The bloodshed only intensified when he held out his right hand, the axe whirling faithfully into his hand so he could dual wield it in a furious meatgrinder of destruction.

"Damn," said the big guy respectfully. "We should hang out with this guy more often."

Of all people, it was Gorbus who noticed it first. "Look at the bodies! Why are they doing that?"

When a living thing died its body stayed where it was, decomposing into its base elements over time. When a monster died it disintegrated into black smoke, theorised to be the mana from which it was born. The UnFae were doing neither of these things: instead they were dissolving into motes of white light, which were seemingly absorbed by the world around them.

"What are these things?"

The bloodbath was interrupted when a chain wrapped around Leon's right wrist, having been thrown by a few UnFae standing on a roof. When he raised his sword to slash it apart his left arm was trapped also, this time by a group on the opposite roof.

Leon just glowered up at them. "Bad move, fellas."

He violently yanked on both chains at once, pulling both groups down to street level; some survived, but mostly they broke their necks or shattered their skulls against the pavement. He began whipping them through the air using Strongarm, tearing through dozens of them at a time until there just weren't enough getting past him to reach the guards.

Abruptly and anticlimactically, the chains got tangled up.

With a roar of berserker rage, Leon tore the chains apart; each link flew through the air like shrapnel, tearing into the UnFae and receiving screams of agony in return. They were now huddled at the far end of the street, refusing to approach. An unasked question had been answered.

They did, in fact, feel fear.

Hopped up on adrenaline Leon charged and roared, and as one man the UnFae fled.

The pavement between them exploded, sending chunks of rubble and debris flying in all directions. A creature of nightmare emerged from the pit, its pulsating blue skin halfway between a slime and an octopus. Four huge tentacles tipped with spikes and lined with suckers dragged it up onto the street, revealing its body to be that of a corpulent woman. She had six tiny, useless arms and a blubbery face lined with sharp teeth, and a constant stream of UnFae were being spawned from gross holes that dotted her quivering fat.

The Queen-Mother screamed, and animals, elves and beastmen all over the city clutched their ears in agony.

"What… the…" The two big guys dragged him away, just before a flailing tentacle crushed the street where he was standing. Once they had some distance the guy with the warhammer picked him up and slung him over his shoulder, breaking into a run.

"Retreat!" Earis screamed. "Retreat!"

The guards fled, the adult Head Takers stopping to grab Iven along with anyone who tripped and fell. The Queen-Mother spilled into the marketplace, squishing the barricade beneath her immense fat. The horde of UnFae rampaged after her, their numbers bolstered by the steady stream of newborns.

"A Queen-Mother?" Leon croaked. "Why is there a Queen-Mother? They're supposed to be completely stationary!"

The big guy dropped him on his feet. "Snap out of it," he said, his voice perfectly calm and steady. "There's no time to panic. Take a breath, then come up with a plan."

Leon took a shuddering breath, telling himself that the only reason the Queen-Mother was immobile in the game was because of system limitations. "Right. You're right. Sorry."

"That's fine," the dude nodded. "Just take a moment."

"Mr Leon?"

"Holy god!" he screamed, almost scared out of his skin. "What the… oh, it's you."

"Sorry?" Rickert said nervously. "I, uh, brought what you asked for."

There in his hands was Zane's bow, which he had last seen in the hands of the Great Ragneli. Leon had to blink for a moment in disbelief. "How did you convince him to give it to you?"

"I just mentioned your name."

Apparently, Ragneli was way more scared of him than he gave him credit for. Leon took the bow, already having an idea of how it worked based on the fact that Zane had no arrows on his person when they met.

The string was initially too tough for him to pull, but after a quick strengthening spell he was able to pull it back. An arrow made of pure energy appeared on the string, causing him to let go in surprise: it exploded against the Queen-Mother's side, causing her to roar in pain.

He suddenly got why Ragneli would want this bow so badly.

"You use magic?" Rickert gushed. "Does that mean you're a noble?"

"Yes but no," replied Leon distractedly. He fired a few experimental arrows at the Queen-Mother, holding one of them in place to see if it had a charge attack. It turned out it did, growing in brightness and creating an unbelievable explosion on impact. "I have an idea. Get everyone as far away from that thing as quickly as you can."

They did as he said, herding their scattered allies away from the UnFae. Leon kept the bow drawn, the arrow gaining in energy until bolts of lightning began lancing out and scoring the ground. "We're done," said the big guy, running up to him with Earis and his friend in tow. "What now?"

"Now I need you to throw me over her head," said Leon flatly. "I'm going to shoot this thing down her throat."

For a moment, everyone just looked at him like he'd lost his mind. "Okay," said the big guy, and picked him up.

"Pippin, no!" Earis panicked. "Theodore Bartholomew Pippin, I am ordering you as your superior officer-"

Pippin sprinted away like a football player with a ball, spiking Leon through the air with a bellow. He flew scarily, dizzily high, until he saw the Queen-Mother down below. She glared up at him and roared; absently, Leon released the arrow.

She swallowed it like a mint, and had just enough time to look surprised before she exploded into gooey green chunks. Leon landed on an abandoned stall, the marquee collapsing beneath him. He fell painfully on the goods below, dragging himself bruised and swearing from the wreckage.

"Ow," said Leon.

He suddenly realised that the square was silent. The UnFae had never stopped screaming and howling since the first of them had attacked him in Drego's base, but suddenly they all fell dead silent. They were all staring at him with their eerie, lidless yellow eyes.

Iven sidled up to him nervously. "Why are they staring at you?"

Leon closed his eyes and sighed. "Because you're no longer their first priority."

"Mother!" one of them rasped. "Mother!"

They began to repeat the word over and over again with rising volume, until they were screaming with a greater and more frightening intensity than ever before. Leon looked around; both the guards and the Head Takers looked exhausted. "I'm leading them out of the city. Stay here and make sure everyone knows where I went."

"You can't do that!" Iven hissed, his eyes tearing up with anguish. "You can't just… You can't just die for someone else's problems!"

"Who said anything about dying? I have a plan."

"But you'll be alone!"

Even now, with an army of murderous UnFae staring him down, Leon found a wry laugh. "I won't."

It was only then that Iven heard the familiar sound of giant hooves slamming against the cobblestones. The yowling horde attacked almost as soon as Leon swung himself onto the Warhorse's back, following him in a mad chase to the city gates.

Someone had evidently seen them coming, because the gate was in the midst of lowering as they approached.

"Axe!" Leon called, and heard the familiar hum as it spun through the air. "Don't let them close the gate until all the UnFae are through!"

The axe flew on ahead and wedged itself in the portcullis winch, lodging in place and refusing to budge when the men on guard tried to move it. Leon and the Warhorse passed through the gate below, scaring the shit out of the Great Ragneli when they almost ran him over. The people screamed and ran for cover as the UnFae followed in a slavering horde, and as soon as the last of them was gone the axe spun off in pursuit.

It was at this point that Zane stopped in the middle of chopping firewood, the Trace spell he had placed on his bow alerting him to its presence. A few of his men followed curiously as he moved to the edge of his camp, which sat high on a cliff.

Far below he saw Leon - who he knew thanks to the Trace spell was carrying his bow - tearing down the road on the Warhorse he had stolen from Lord Korel. Behind him came the legion of UnFae, kicking up an enormous dust cloud with their pursuit. They watched in utter befuddlement as the group tore off into the distance, slowly turning their heads as they tracked their movements.

"One of these days I'm going to make that man tell me about himself," Zane remarked.

One of his men made the :/ face and nodded.

"We're almost there!" Leon was saying to the Warhorse. "Remember, as soon as I dismount you need to get as much distance as you can!"

They finally arrived at their destination: a huge basin sat in the middle of the countryside, dominated by huge stone pillars. Leon picked one and leapt from the Warhorse's back, clinging to it as his mount neighed encouragingly before fleeing at top speed.

By the time he had climbed to the top the UnFae had caught up, forcing him to leap from pillar to pillar to stay ahead of them. In the centre of the stone forest was a huge tower of rock that he began to climb frantically; the UnFae continued their vengeful chase. Some did what he did and hopped from pillar to pillar, while others clung partway up and swung between them like monkeys. Most just swarmed across the ground to the base of the central tower, where they began climbing upwards with a squalling thirst for blood.

Leon made it to the top of the rock tower, unslinging Zane's bow from his shoulder and drawing an arrow. He looked nervously down at the UnFae as the arrow charged, keenly aware that he had left himself no way to escape.

"Colin," he whispered. "I'm sorry if I miss your birthday."

When the first screaming face was about to reach him he fired the arrow straight down, melting a hole in the ground that continued endlessly into the dark. Leon turned around and crouched with his eyes screwed shut and his fingers in his ears, heedless of the UnFae that were quickly surrounding him.

"I WILL not shit myself I WILL not shit myself I WILL not shit myself-"

The ground exploded with the force of a volcano, obliterating the UnFae on the ground and sending the rest screaming into the air. Leon clung to the rock pillar as it disintegrated, the peak remaining mostly intact due to being so far from the initial explosion.

The few UnFae that had made it to the top began trying to attack him, and Leon found himself fighting them off as he fell through the air. Soon the hunk of rock collapsed into pieces from the lack of support, giving him a good look at what became of the ground.

The arrow had hit a methane pocket, and the resulting explosion had opened a window straight into the lower levels of the Holfort dungeon; the basin was a now a straight drop into a yawning pit of molten lava, complete with flaming serpents and magma dragons diving through the molten rock. He had no idea what floor this was, but judging from the massive fall it was pretty deep.

"Meh," Leon mused. "There are worse ways to die."

The last few UnFae continued to attack him as they fell through the sky; some of them fell away while others managed to latch onto him, leading to a vicious scuffle in midair. Leon managed to kick most of them away, but one of them managed to dig its talons into the exposed wound on his neck where the second UnFae he met had bitten a chunk out of him. He screamed, and for an awful moment he was helpless.

The axe came swooping in and hit the creature in the head, knocking it away just as they fell through the opening into certain volcanic doom. As he began to flip through the air he scrambled to grab ahold of his cloak, praying that for once movies and video games had not lied to him.

Just as the heat became unbearable his cloak caught the air, lifting him up like a hot air balloon. He was launched out of the hole so hard that he lost his grip on his cloak, sending him spinning tits over toenails through the air. He had just enough time to scream one last strengthening spell before hitting the ground, landing so hard he left a small crater.

He had at least enough warning to manage a three point landing, crouched on the ground with his hand only intact thanks to his gauntlet. He rose shakily to his feet, turning to look at the yawning chasm. "Fucking yes!" he shouted, punching the air victoriously. "Hey, Death! Disappointed?" Leon flipped off the sky with both hands. "Well fuck you!"

He ruined the moment with a wimpy noise, cringing as a lance of pain went through his wrist.

"Well, that's definitely been sprained." Leon rubbed his wrist with a rueful smile. "There's my whole afternoon ruined…"

He trailed off as he turned around: King Roland, Queen Mylene, Prince Julius, Jilk, Yon's child, Iven, the Warhorse, Earis, the guards and the Head Takers were all standing there staring at him, their jaws almost scraping the ground. Leon immediately felt self-conscious.

"What?"

"What do you mean what?" Roland demanded. "You made a goddamn volcano on my land!"

"First of all, this is part of the dungeon. It's going to close up on its own after a while. Secondly, this is a perfectly reasonable strategy when you're standing over a dungeon with a lava level."

"The 44th Bartfort Stratagem: Hell Hole," nodded Earis, who had learned the same lessons Leon had from Balcus along with every other boy and girl in their territory. Gorbus looked at him like he was insane.

"You mean there's a precedent for this sort of thing?"

"Of course," grunted Leon. "Up until a few generations ago, my ancestors were all adventurers."

"Wait," said Julius, a broad grin spreading across his face. "So your last name is Bartfort?"

"No-"

"That guard called you Leon earlier," he continued. "And if your family hadn't been adventurers for a few generations then they must have become aristocrats! Is your real name Leon Fou Bartfort?"

Leon gave him a long, cold look. "I liked you better when you were a moron."

"Aha!"

Roland just scowled. "What I want to know is why those things were chasing your friend. He called them the Bad Taste, right?"

"I would assume so," shrugged Iven. He had started to hyperventilate after seeing Leon fall from the sky, but had managed to recover after Casca had rubbed his back and talked him through it. "The creature that I cursed myself to escape was a flightless dragon living on a deserted island on the border with Fanoss. It had no way of leaving the island by itself, so I assume it sent them in its place."

Something about this explanation felt off, and made Leon pause. "But dragons treat fairies with contempt. The only exception is fae dragons, and even the worst of them wouldn't try to make an UnFae… Crap!"

He abruptly stumbled, causing Iven, Earis, Julius and (curiously) Yon's child to all rush forward to help. He gave them a shaky grin, having slightly scared himself.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "Wobbly legs. It's been a rough day."

"Are you okay?" asked the kid. "Are you going to die?"

"I'm fine," he promised, giving their hair a soothing stroke. "I just need to sit down for a while."

Big Scary waddled up to him and picked him up with its tail, placing him firmly in its back pouch. The child climbed up alongside him, as did an infant Head Taker who was presumably Big Scary's offspring.

The royals were giving the Head Takers nervous looks, but because no one was bringing it up they stayed silent. Mylene in particular had one on her lap, and was tickling its belly as it crooned blissfully.

"So what's an UnFae?" asked the big guy with the sword. Leon was fairly certain his name was Guts, but he didn't want to call him that until someone introduced him. "Based on what you said, is it a kind of fairy?"

"An UnFae is a fairy that's been drained of its soul and magic, leaving it insane and super murdery. Although I guess in this case there was only one UnFae that spawned all the others. Making one of those things is considered such an evil act that only a few people have ever been cruel enough to try it. Hell, barely anyone knows that they… that they…"

"What?" demanded Roland. "Have you figured something out?"

For a long moment Leon was silent. He absentmindedly reached out his hand, tucking the axe into his belt after it slapped into his palm. He winced as it aggravated his sprained wrist. "Maybe. We should head back."

The group trudged back to the city, pausing only to shove the bow back into Ragneli's hands. The townspeople crowded around them as they arrived in the marketplace, throwing gratitude to the guards and chocolate to the Head Takers. Leon discreetly slipped from Big Scary's back, closely followed by the royals. "Jarl? How are you holding up?"

"Oh, Strongarm!" he said brightly. "I'm already getting orders from people who know my barricades were usd to defend against the UnFae! Business is booming!"

"That's great," Leon smiled awkwardly. "Listen, I… H-How did you know what those things were called?"

Jarl answered distractedly, as he was making his way through a list of orders as he talked. "My daughter told me about them."

This threw him for a loop. "Your daughter?"

"My adopted daughter," he clarified.

"And how… And how did she…"

"She's a fairy."

Leon froze. He could almost hear his brain rebooting. "Your daughter… is a fairy?"

"And a pretty one!" said Jarl brightly. "She can use healing magic, and everyone who meets her loves her!"

His blood ran cold. "She can use healing magic… and everyone loves her…"

"Yep!"

"Does she have short blonde hair?"

"I… Yes! How did you…"

"Could you tell me her name please?"

Jarl told him, and Leon sank his head into his hands and groaned. Yon's child looked between them in confusion.

"What's wrong with being called Olivia?"

Boss: The UnFae

Summary: the henchmen of the main antagonist of Chains of Satinav, they are never actually referred to as this by the narrative. As with the Head Takers, I mainly called them this because it sounds cool. Their favourite method of killing involves tearing out the eyeballs of their victims, which is actually canon. Now that I'm sitting down and reexamining this, it sort of reminds me of the Artbroken from Ni no Kuni.

Some of you may have noticed that this version of the UnFae borrows certain elements from the Darkspawn of Dragon Age fame, specifically the Broodmother. Any fairy can become a Queen-Mother regardless of gender, as their offspring aren't so much born as created from the Queen-Mother's magic. This is why they become so angry with Leon following her death; without her they will die within six hours, filling them with homicidal rage towards the person who indirectly killed them. It should be noted that none of the UnFae feel actual affection for their parent, as they are incapable of any kind of positive emotions.

Unlike how Broodmothers will create hurlocks, genlocks, sharlocks or ogres depending on their original species, different kinds of fairies becoming Queen-Mothers will not result in different kinds of offspring. At least not without outside interference.