Page 97 of Dark Fate

"Your hospitality is appreciated," I say, offering Queen Titania and King Oberon a smile that's equal parts charm and cheek. "We accept," I add, hoping my voice doesn't betray the jitters playing xylophone on my ribs. Because let's be real, this is the Fae court we're talking about—one wrong move, and we could end up as garden gnomes in the royal hedge maze.

With the royal affirmation, the deal is done, and we're whisked away to a cozy little chamber that's like a nook tucked inside a treasure chest. The air is thick with excitement and nervous energy like we're standing at the edge of something colossal—or at least something that could turn us into toadstools if we're not careful.

Our motley crew circles the table, a heady mix of personalities and power, each bringing their own flavor to this pre-quest banquet. It's like the world's weirdest dinner party, with vampires, Fae, and one slightly overwhelmed human all rubbing elbows and trying not to step on any metaphorical toes.

I kick back in my chair, looking as comfy as possible while sizing up the room with a discerning eye. This chamber has a more intimate vibe than the throne room, but it doesn't skimp on the wow factor, with little orbs of light hovering and dipping like a school of glowing sea creatures. It's like being inside a lava lamp if Tim Burton designed lava lamps on acid.

And then there's the table at the heart of the room—Mother Nature's masterpiece of twisty-turny wood, with a tapestry of leaves and vines that could make the finest artist green with envy. It's like something out of a fairy tale, if fairy tales involved high-stakes diplomacy and the fate of the realms hanging in the balance.

Axilyaslips into the chair beside me, all regal grace and quiet intensity. There's a grounding vibe about her—a stillness amidst the storm that makes me feel like maybe, just maybe, we might actually pull this off without getting killed.

She flicks a regal nod at the royals, no words needed to convey the depth of meaning in that simple gesture. And then there's the secret eyelash flutters, the subtle quirks of the lips that speak volumes without a single syllable uttered. It's like watching a soap opera without subtitles, trying to decipher the hidden messages and unspoken alliances that swirl beneath the surface.

What's the story here? My mind races with possibilities and potential pitfalls. Because in this game of thrones, knowledge is power—and I'll take every scrap of intel I can get my hands on.

"So,"Luciandrawls, his posture relaxed, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. "Any takers willing to spill the tea on the big, bad boogeyman lurking beyond those picturesque peaks? I promise I won’t even charge for the therapy session afterward."

King Oberon leans forward, hands clasped before him. "TheCrystal Peaksare not just treacherous because of sheer cliffs and unpredictable weather," he begins, his authoritative voice demanding attention. "They are steeped in deep magic—ancient and untamed."

Queen Titania's piercing gaze locks onto mine, touching my essence beyond the surface. "There are sentinels within those mountains," she continues. "Entities from the darkest dreams, stationed to ward off trespassers."

Erikshifts, eyes narrowing—his warrior's mind assessing threats.

"Sentinels?" I echo, unease prickling my spine.

Faderyn’s solemn declaration about the creatures protecting something beyond justunicornsmakes my eyebrow arch. It’s like trying to digest a boulder-sized chunk of information without any water.

And speaking of hard-to-swallow things, I can feel my cheeks flush at the memory of catching a glimpse ofFaderyn's, ahem, assets last night.

Of course, Mr. All-KnowingRhylandhas my number, his hand gliding up my thigh with sly confidence and giving me a delicious squeeze. Oh, he knows exactly what I'm thinking, the smug bastard. But two can play at that game, and I shoot him a look that promises all sorts of wicked retribution later.

Clearing my throat, I try to steer the conversation back on track. "Well, I guess that settles it. The stone's tucked away in there," I quip, probably crossing the line of casual banter considering the high-caliber company. But come on, mythical creatures deserve an edge, and if we can't crack a few jokes about their super-secret hideout, what's the point of being The Chosen One?

Axilya’s lips curve slightly before she responds, her voice low and mysterious. "Perhaps the true nature remains hidden. Those who have ventured forth have never returned to tell their stories—it is said to be a wellspring of life itself."

My mind reels at that bombshell. Not just the stone? What could they be protecting? A magic mushroom patch?

I glance atRhyland, running a hand through his hair in frustration. The poor guy looks like he's about to pop a blood vessel trying to understand all this mystical mumbo-jumbo.

"A source of life? That sounds heavy," he mutters before raising his voice. "What are we talking about here? A fountain of youth? A genie in a bottle?"

The Light King’s eyes flicker with amusement. "Not youth," he corrects. "Balance."

And just like that, my curiosity is piqued. Balance—what we’ve been seeking all along—between realms, between light and shadow.

"And these sentinels,"Lucianinterjects casually, "they just stand around scaring tourists? Sounds like a boring gig."

"Not tourists,"Faderynreplies with a faint smile. "But formidable guardians deterring any seeking to disrupt the equilibrium."

Queen Titania's expression turns grave. "Whispers suggest even time itself may warp and twist within those mountains."

I feel a shiver run down my spine at her words. Time warping and twisting? That's some Doctor Who level shit right there. And if there's one thing I've learned from binge-watching sci-fi shows, it's that messing with the space-time continuum never ends well.

But then, I’m not just a baseline human anymore. I might have a card up my sleeve, my supernatural abilities including a nifty little time-warp trick. If this place bends time, I may bend it right back.

Erik's voice resonates with certainty. "We will need more than blades and bravado," he declares.

Rhylandleans forward, fixing the royals with a stare that could freeze lava. "So, how do we get past these nightmares?" he demands.

---