CHAPTER IX
"A Heavy Landing and a Heavier Ego"
"We've landed. You can get down now," Caelum said casually, letting me down gently onto the soft earth of Crimson Cove.
"Huh?" I blinked, still a bit dazed from everything that had happened.
"You're heavy," he added bluntly, brushing imaginary dust off his regal black sleeves. "Maybe you should consider losing some weight."
Wait. What?
I froze.
My eyes narrowed in disbelief as I whipped around to face him. "What did you just say?!"
He didn't even flinch. "I mean… I only caught you to save your life. I didn't know you'd be that heavy. Otherwise, I might've let you fall."
I gasped — partly in horror, partly in outrage.
How dare he?
"You—" I stepped forward, seething. "Do you even know who I am?!"
He shrugged. "Nope. Should I?"
I crossed my arms. "I am the future Queen of Frosthevan."
That made him pause. Slowly, very dramatically, he sat down on the ground, covered his mouth with both hands, and gasped like a child caught misbehaving.
"Oh no," he said in a theatrical whisper, his eyes wide with fake fear. "I'm so, so sorry, Your Highness. Please don't hurt me. Please, I beg of you!"
Then he started fake-sobbing into his hands, still crouched on the ground.
I was speechless.
He was mocking me — openly, shamelessly, in front of everyone.
Before I could even form a retort, I heard it.
Laughter.
Not just a chuckle, not just a giggle — full-blown, stomach-holding, uncontrollable laughter.
I turned and saw Flash, lying flat on the ground, wings sprawled, wheezing from how hard he was laughing.
"Oh stars," Flash choked, barely breathing. "This… this is the funniest thing I've seen since Aurelia accidentally enchanted her own shoes and couldn't stop tap-dancing for three hours!"
"Hey!" Aurelia called from the side, trying to act annoyed — but her hand was clamped over her mouth, trying to suppress her own giggles.
Next to her, Olivia was biting her lip, clearly trying not to laugh, but her eyes betrayed her amusement.
And then there was Chiko and Rira — both rolling around near a rosebush, holding their sides, snorting like they were watching the most legendary fairy comedy of the century.
This was too much.
"Enough!" I snapped, planting my hands on my hips. "If anyone else laughs, I swear I'll make sure none of you ever see sugarberries again!"
Everyone froze for a second… and then Flash, unable to help himself, said between gasps of laughter, "Honestly, Celeste, no one could be worse than you at taking a joke. You're a villain in comedy books — the funniest kind."
And with that, they all started laughing again — harder this time.
I clenched my jaw, my wings twitching in frustration, and stomped away a few steps, cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and rage.
Caelum, still seated, leaned back on his elbows and smirked at me like he hadn't just mocked a royal to her face.
Honestly?
I wanted to slap him.
Or curse him.
Or turn him into a frog.
But deep down… very deep down…
A tiny part of me wanted to smile too.
Because for the first time in what felt like ages, we weren't just running from danger or carrying the weight of fate on our backs.
We were… laughing.
And maybe, just maybe, I needed that — even if it came at my expense.
Aurelia took a cautious step forward, her gaze fixed on the mysterious pixie hovering in the air. She hesitated for a brief moment before gently asking, "What's your name?"
The pixie gave a soft, polite smile — his presence strangely calm, despite the aura of darkness that clung to his black wings like mist. "My name is Caelum," he said. "But you can call me Cael, if that's easier."
"Caelum?" Aurelia repeated, her voice tightening with tension, as if the name itself sent a chill through her spine.
He nodded with ease. "Yes. I'm the prince of Lunaria Noir — the Black Fairyland. And I'm on my way to meet the Mother Fairy."
There was a moment of silence.
Then Olivia stepped forward, her voice filled with surprise and understanding. "Wait… are you Finnian's younger brother?"
Caelum glanced at her, his expression unreadable for a heartbeat — and then he nodded.
"Yes. Finnian is my elder brother."
That was when I noticed it — Aurelia had gone completely still. Her usual fiery energy faded into anxious stillness. Without a word, she turned and quickly stepped behind a nearby tree, vanishing into the shadows of its trunk like a startled deer.
I blinked. "Aurelia?"
From behind the tree, she whispered sharply, "Celeste!"
"What?" I whispered back, my tone low and confused.
"That's a black pixie," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "You know what that means. Danger. We need to stay away from him."
I sighed.
Once, I would have agreed. Once, I too believed that anything from the Black Fairyland must be evil — shadowy, unpredictable, and cursed. But I had seen something different now. I had felt it. In the quiet way Flash had watched over me. In the silly joy Chiko brought. In the silent protection Rira offered.
"I used to think the same," I replied softly, stepping closer to the tree where she was hiding. "I really did. But I was wrong."
She peeked at me, her brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"
I looked out at Caelum, who stood calmly with the wind brushing against his dark wings — regal, poised, but not threatening.
"I've been with Flash," I said. "I've seen Chiko, I've flown on Rira's back. All of them are from Black Fairyland… and they've never once tried to harm me. In fact, they've saved me — more than once. They protect, they care, and they love just like we do. Maybe we've judged too soon."
Aurelia looked at me, her eyes still wide and uncertain.
"Not all shadows are evil," I added. "Sometimes… they're just misunderstood."
She didn't respond at first.
But then, hesitantly, I reached out my hand and gently took hers. Her fingers were cold, stiff with nervousness — but she didn't pull away.
With a soft tug, I guided her out from behind the tree.
Back into the light.
Back to the truth.
And as she stepped forward, standing beside me once more, I saw something flicker in her eyes — fear, yes… but also curiosity.
Maybe the kind that precedes trust.
Or maybe the beginning of something even more powerful.
Understanding.
Because sometimes, it's not just the monsters we have to fight.
It's the stories we were told about them.
Night had finally draped itself over Crimson Cove, wrapping the land in its quiet, velvety stillness. The soft glow of moonlight poured down like silver rain, bathing every petal, every leaf, every breath of wind in a kind of quiet magic. The red roses shimmered with a faint bluish hue, like stardust had kissed their edges — glowing not in brightness, but in beauty. The fragrance hung thick in the air — sweet, comforting, ancient.
We all sat beneath a tall, blooming tree whose dark red blossoms whispered softly in the breeze, lost in thought, unsure of what came next. The journey ahead still stretched long and uncertain, and our only guide — Rira, our loyal flying carpet — had finally succumbed to exhaustion. She lay curled in the grass beside Chiko, both gently dozing, their chests rising and falling in peaceful rhythm.
It should have been a moment of stillness.
A pause.
A rest.
But I couldn't stop looking at him.
Caelum.
He didn't sit with us. He stood a few steps away, alone in the moonlight, his silhouette etched against the glowing curve of the sky. His black wings tucked loosely behind him, the golden buttons of his royal coat gleaming softly under the silver glow.
And his eyes…
He wasn't looking at us. He was staring up — unmoving — eyes fixed on the moon as though he were challenging it. As if the quiet light in the sky had dared to speak something cruel, and he refused to back down.
There was something about the way he stood — not just proud, but defiant. Not just silent, but roaring inside. His fists were clenched slightly. His jaw tight. And those eyes…
Those eyes weren't empty.
They were full — overflowing with emotion that refused to spill.
A rage.
A sorrow.
A storm barely contained.
He was beautiful, yes — undeniably. But it wasn't just the way his hair caught the wind or how his features looked carved from moonlight and shadows.
It was the contradiction.
The war behind his calm.
His eyes didn't just reflect the moon. They questioned it. Accused it.
There was pain in them — deep, buried pain. The kind that no one speaks of out loud. The kind that builds walls around the soul and dares the world to try and break them. The kind that makes someone look invincible… until they're alone.
I couldn't explain it, but I felt it.
Something about him wasn't what it seemed.
He wore confidence like armor, walked like a prince raised in darkness, spoke like someone used to hiding the truth behind smiles and sarcasm. But beneath all that… something was broken. Or maybe… something had been taken from him. Something he still searched for in silence.
Was it his brother, Finnian?
Was it the burden of his past?
Or was it something even deeper — a truth about himself that he hadn't dared to face?
I didn't know.
All I knew was that I couldn't stop watching him.
Not because I didn't trust him.
But because a part of me — a quiet, instinctive part — wanted to understand him.
He looked so lonely under the stars.
So angry… yet so hurt.
As if he was silently screaming at a world that never gave him the choice to be anything but what he had become.
I wondered, in that moment, if the moon watched him the way I did.
With awe.
With worry.
With questions that may never be answered.
But somewhere deep inside, I had a feeling:
Whatever Caelum was hiding…
Whatever he was running from — or toward —
It was going to change everything.
For him.
For me.
For all of us.
To be continued…