The moonlight filtered through oak trees and over the hidden glade deep within a forest.
The glade was not secret to many people who had lived in the woods for generations, but they were well known to those few chosen by the inhabitants to be among them.
It was a small glade with slight distinguishing features, except that it had been hidden away behind one of the thickest oaks in the whole forest. If a person were looking closely enough into any clearing in the wooded area, they would see what looked like people with beautiful wings excluding mesmerizing auras.
Gathered in a circle were the most powerful faerie lords and ladies of this realm.
They were gathered here on the crisis that troubled their faction for a year with no result of findings. Related to the Matter of Britain, this problem that stem from across lands came from another issue beforehand.
Almost twelve months ago, beneath the Earth's mundane ground, the tower of light that holds the reality of the World had pulsated brilliantly as if it were in the presence of the deceased King Arthur. Such sight had not occurred whilst staying motionless for the past thousand years.
Not only that, the same transpired on the sealed legendary artifacts of King Arthur, particularly the Holy Sword. The cause of this was unknown, so the protectors of these relics have agreed on a meeting every season.
The elders sat on their thrones looking down at the group of faeries responsible for the investigation of the problem. Their eyes were cold as ice, reflecting the light from above, making it appear that they had no pupils. The only color they displayed was greenish.
"You all know why we are here," said one of the Faerie Lords, his voice sounding cold, even dangerous, "from your faces, I suspect that your investigation came with no results?" He paused, allowing them time to come up with excuses.
They did nothing. Instead, they all bowed their heads in agreement. One after another, they raised their head to look at him, but he just remained stoic under the attention. After a while, they lowered their gaze again, some more slowly than others.
"We are sorry," A young faerie spoke up softly, her eyes cast downward, "we could find nothing. We apologize."
"What is done cannot be undone," Another elder, a lady, replied indifferently, before continuing, "We will continue with our work. But you all must keep a close eye on this phenomenon and gather more information, so that we may solve the problem sooner rather than later."
"We do not have the time to start again the investigation. We must deal with the problem of the Holy Lance ourselves. Not leaving our trust to children!" The elder from before pointed at the young faeries, causing them to cower.
"They are young and inexperienced, fellow elder. The new generations always have the potential to surpass us. That is why they took on this task to prove themselves. This decree is entrusted to us by the Lake Lady."
"That was the mistake made when our predecessors entrusted the mystic items to mortals and not to us. They are out of our hands now. We will deal with the Holy Lance as soon as possible, whether it takes today or now! I suggest that you do the same."
"Agreed," the other elders spoke simultaneously, causing the lady elder to glower at them.
"You are being harsh on your juniors, when you should encourage them. You bring shame to our kind." In the last part, the others look at her with surprise.
"Am I? We are the Council of Twilight, a gathering meant for the resurrection of Britain's King to return to the olden ages once again, not to let the humans' disgusting smoke-inducing technology sully the purity of our realm."
She opened her mouth to reply sharply but her words died in the back of her throat. She closed her lips tightly, her fingers curling into fists in an obvious effort to prevent herself from exploding at them. Her faerie friends, who had witnessed her rage many times before, shivered involuntarily.
However, she regains her composure, only showing a frown on her face.
The oldest amongst them sat on her throne of fine oak while she chatted idly about her children and friends. She raised a delicate hand to quiet them down once she surveyed the assembly, her gossamer wings fluttering gently in her gown woven from the first light of dawn. A regal bearing and piercing gaze commanded the attention of all present.
Titania, the resplendent Queen of the Faeries.
She listened intently, her brow furrowed in concentration. Their realm has always existed alongside humans, influencing it in subtle ways. But the King's presence in the modern age? It is a conundrum. Why now, after all centuries of waiting?
When the debate reached a fever pitch, she raised her hand once more, commanding silence. She cannot afford it as tempers flared from conflicting agendas threatened to tear the council apart.
"Enough," she said, her voice firm. "We must act with wisdom and foresight, not reckless emotion. The fate of our realm hangs in us all, and we cannot afford to be divided."
The faeries fell silent, their eyes fixed on their queen, awaiting her decree.
Titania nodded to the lord, her expression solemn. "I agree with you, Lord Gossamer. We must address this encroachment of human influence and the desecration of our sacred spaces, but let us not be hasty." She began, her melodious voice carrying across the clearing. "We shall focus and remain patiently to see if my suspicions are correct; a possible descendant of Britain's King lingers in the Human World."
A murmur of discontent rippled through the gathered faeries. Titania raised a slender hand, silencing them with a gesture.
"I have called you here to discuss our response. Indeed, we must investigate this anomaly," Titania declared. "Let us send our scouts again into the Modern World, to observe and to listen. The balance of our realm may rest upon our findings."
"I have a plan." Titania continued, "But it will require the cooperation and commitment of each one of you."
She paused, her gaze sweeping across the assembly, daring them to challenge her.
"Like many times before, I ask, are you with me?"
A hush fell over the glade as the faeries considered her words.
She held their gaze as if challenging them. Finally, one elder spoke up. "We are your followers," she said, bowing her head, "and we pledge the full support of the Council of Twilight. Whatever your decision, my Queen." The rest of the faeries agreed, including the Lord Gossamer. As one, they pledge and bow.
A smile spread across her face, warming Titania's heart. "Then it is settled," she announced, "The first step to the solution shall be to send out our spies—"
Before she could complete her sentence, the wooden doors to the far end opened up. It didn't creak loud enough to be heard, yet it made its way to each of their ears, echoing inside their head. Each of them stopped and turned around to look and froze as powerful presences washed over them.
The faeries felt a shiver pass through the air and then their bodies became paralyzed, unable to move or react. Fear filled the guards as silhouettes slowly stepped out of the wooden door. Every step sent their souls shaking.
"So much power..." A male voice whispered, the sound echoing off the walls of the large room. The presences were deep and strong and carried a strange familiarity with their own. All of them stood rigidly still as they waited for them to speak.
The door swung open further, letting more light flood into the glade. Two figures approached with confidence, taking long strides towards the gathering group. The faeries stared in shock as they caught a glance of their visitors.
A slender woman and beside her, a lengthy pink-haired girl. The latter wearing a rich crimson gothic attire with black and white accents, a choker, elegant gloves, a corseted top with intricate detailing, and over this a structured jacket flares out with wing-like coattails, a voluminous multiple-layered lower half dress, stockings, high-heeled, platform boots with ornate, claw-like embellishments.
The frontwoman walked proudly, with a certain aura that only the kind of the noblest faeries possessed.
Her eyes scanned the entire gathering, lingering on the faeries. Then her gaze found Titania's.
A chill smile appeared on her face, a cold that couldn't be replicated by even the queen.
"Well met, fairies from the Twilight Fairy Kingdom. It would be a lie if I assume that my interruption has not surprised you much?"
Her speech seemed to have shaken each faerie, their hearts beating fast. When she reached them and inclined her head in a brief bow that couldn't even be called respect, Titania's heart sank deep as she observed the two.
She identified the magic inside the woman as something only the Lady of the Lake possessed. But it is unattainable, as the days of Camelot had long departed.
Similar thoughts struck the young faeries with terror. Even though they had seen their predecessors from before, only through visions and pictures, they were not prepared for the real thing. She stood before them, tall and graceful, with long white hair falling gracefully behind her. Her dress was adorned with black and blue embroidery, giving the impression that she was a queen as well, or perhaps a goddess in the making. Mainly because of the spiked crown on her head connected to the veil covering her face.
She is attired in a grand, multi-layered gown, the dress boasting a high, black collar reminiscent of a ruff, and a sleek bodice adorned, extending into a plunging neckline, bordered by striking blue accents that mirror the color of her eyes, with intricate patterns, imparting an armored look. Her gown's sleeves are detached, elegantly flowing from her shoulders and draping down her arms, featuring transparent, wing-like extensions. The skirt of her gown is long and split, uncovering the front of her legs, and cascades into a train behind her, while the color scheme of her dress seamlessly transitions from the black and intricate blues of the bodice to the stark white of the skirt. The hem of the gown is adorned with darker, feather-like details, reinforcing the birdlike motif suggested by her sleeves.
Her stare alone was daunting. If it weren't for her recognized nature, she might as well be the embodiment of death itself, standing before them with her chilling demeanor.
The fae queen looked away, intimidated by her intense gaze. She was like no other faery they had ever known, nor ever wanted to know. They can sense her immense power, almost as though it emanates from her very soul. There was nothing that they could do aside from stand there and submit to her, and to be honest, that wasn't really in their nature.
"My apologies for disturbing you at such a late hour, little queen," the female fairy spoke, breaking the silence, while Titania's mouth fell agape as her mind struggled to comprehend what her ears were hearing, and others' indignant squawk.
"Who are you?" Titania asked at last, keeping her tone calm and controlled, despite how shaken she felt inside. This wasn't the woman who had come before them; she hadn't even tried to hide her identity from them. Another reason why they recognized this woman as their own was because she had the blood of Britain in her veins.
The woman smiled, but her expression was nothing short of predatory.
"Am I that unrecognizable? My name is Morgan, the Queen who sits upon the throne of England. I am the Ruin of the Round Table and the absolute monarchy of the fairy kind. And thus I claim sovereignty over your domain."
The crowd remained silent and immobile as Morgan finished her declaration of her rights and took a few steps forward until her figure loomed over Titania.
Faeries are beings with a connection to the natural world and their innate understanding of the forces of magic. Their strong magical intuition allows them to sense the truth or falsehood of a statement, which would do no good against a higher-ranking fairy. But the fact that they couldn't determine whether her statement was the truth and their blood lies with her made them concede.
One of the causes of the Downfall of Camelot is before them.
There was an uneasy pause as the faeries contemplated what they'd just heard. They exchanged glances of confusion and stupefaction.
"Y–you mean you're le Fay?" Titania questioned incredulously. "You—How?!"
Morgan's lips curled into a cruel smirk.
"Ah, but I am alive. I have existed among the living for a millennium, watching as time passes on through generations after generations of humans and faeries, as well as other species, evolve and change. My body is so powerful that I am capable of surviving without any help from others." She explained calmly.
Titania shook her head in disbelief. She had not expected Morgan to live long enough to return. After all, there was no indication that anyone was aware of what the Black Witch was doing until she arrived at the Twilight Forest.
"Your presence is unexpected," Titania finally replied, unable to contain herself. "In the past, when we sensed a hint of your magic, we always suspected that you were merely a figment of our imagination. How could you possibly be the same one who opposed Britannia thousands of years ago?"
"Perhaps there are some similarities, as there were once similar races who received my powers inhabited the earth long ago," the older fairy said thoughtfully. "But my presence proves otherwise."
"But you've been missing for centuries!" the Queen protested, growing agitated. "How did you remain unseen?"
"I cut myself from the rest of the world and rose even stronger to rule my kingdom. It would appear that I am the rightful owner of this ancient realm and the true ruler of the faeries. What do you intend to do about it, Titania? Will you give up your reign, so that the mortals shall no longer disturb you with their meddling and trespasses?" She sneered maliciously. "Are you truly willing to let other supernatural dictate the flow of time for your kind? Forgive me for being blunt. But I fail to understand how a single fairy will make any difference. I assure you, if you want it to continue as it has been for millennia, it cannot happen." She scoffed disdainfully, raising an arm and waving dismissively at the queen, hearing gasps everywhere.
Her voice boomed and echoed around the chamber, sending chills throughout the court and the faeries.
There was dead silence until Lord Gossamer broke it. "That is preposterous," he bellowed.
Titania gave him a warning look that he ignored, or not noticed.
Morgan and the girl beside her turned to him and gave him an indifferent stare, after his outburst.
He straightened up his shoulders, his features hardened, and took several steps forward. He stopped when he was mere meters away from the lady, glaring at her with unadulterated contempt.
"You dare question our authority? You dare to show your face amongst our kind!" His words were accompanied by fierce waves of fairy magic energy that shot towards the queen, threatening to consume her, only to be dispelled. The faeries gasped, some retreating towards the safety of the shadows under the trees, while the guards moved closer to the confrontation.
"I will not tolerate any disrespect against the Queen of the Fairies!" Gossamer spat, missing the girl beside Morgan shaking.
"And you won't tolerate anyone questioning the supremacy of a woman. You've forgotten all about your place as one of ours. Do you think I can allow someone else to take my place among us?" She eyed him in disinterest, aggravating him.
"I do not give a damn!" He shouted.
"You faeries' arrogance has blinded you. How dare you question my right to govern the fae realms?"
"It's not arrogance that makes me question your rights—it's stupidity! Don't expect us to obey you just because you're the self-proclaimed queen! Your reign is over, Morgan le Fay. You've failed—"
Gossamer didn't get to finish his sentence before a burst of magic energy abruptly struck him, knocking him backward and causing his armor to sparkle menacingly, rolling several feet before skidding to a stop near one of the pillars, crumpling into a heap.
A chorus of shouts filled the air, as many began trying to back away from the two visitors. Guards approached him and held out a hand to help pull him to his feet as he lay crumpled on the ground. Once he was up and steady on his feet, he glared at his attacker balefully, only to see the pink-haired girl.
Red magic surged forth from her fingertips, smoking with an indication of a powerful blast of energy. The girl was trembling visibly, hot anger reeking from her that repels every faerie away.
"How dare you?"
She raised her head, scarlet burning in her eyes.
"A meager faerie like you have no right to speak to Mother that way."
A chill ran down his spine as he saw a flash of killing intent emanating from the girl's eyes, before glowing more with each moment.
"What…" He began, unsure of what to say, as he continued being aghast, "…is going on here?! Who is this girl!?"
Morgan simply chuckled coldly. She was obviously enjoying his discomfort, as he stumbled back.
"She's my daughter. Someone who will succeed after my rule. Be glad she did that or else I had dealt with you accordingly." Morgan said coolly, as though she were speaking of an annoyance to be dealt with.
"You have other kin?! We demand an explanation from you now!" Gossamer demanded, recovering from his surprise. "Is this girl really a faerie? Are you telling me, there are more like her?"
Titania glared at him. "This conversation is concluded," she declared angrily. Turning to Morgan, she continued, "We ask that you cease your interference in this matter now, and return to whence you came."
"Now now, should I do that, it eliminates our purpose here." Morgan signaled her daughter to step back and composure. The girl huffed but decided so.
"Then what was your purpose here?" The faerie queen asks in impatience. Her ethereal blood boils. What she heard next, she didn't expect, especially from her kind's enemy.
The Black Witch smirked, "The affiliation I am associated with, Chaldea Security Organization, an agency in secrecy with the objective of preserving Humanity from extinction by handling threats, such as the supernatural. To do that, we agreed on the search for cooperation."
"We were hoping to discuss terms that both sides may agree upon," Morgan replied. "Otherwise…well, it wouldn't be the first time I threatened someone who doesn't know better than to oppose me." Her tone shifted, becoming more serious. "For the sake of peace and harmony between those of different kingdoms and races, there are things that need to be settled. Now then, are we going to discuss these terms or not?"
Another tense silence ensued. The faeries glanced at each other uncertainly, wondering what would happen next. Were they to negotiate? Or did they plan to use violence and kill everyone present here?
After all, this woman was clearly in charge of the situation.
"What do you plan to do now, Titania?" The Queen of Fairy questioned coolly to the Queen of Faeries, her cold gaze never leaving the faeries before her.
She paused for a moment, glancing over at her again. Inwardly, her anger subsided slightly, allowing her pride to prevail. She was no fool and knew full well that Morgan was more than capable of dealing with whatever challenge presented itself to her. Still, she refused to back down, refusing to be outmatched.
Morgan's magic was clearly too powerful for someone young like her to withstand, and she knew that.
"This alliance proposal of yours..." Titania started.
Morgan le Fay smirked as she caressed Baobhan Sith's head.