The moment the first sound of breaking wards reached her ears, the Fae Queen knew this betrayal was intentional. Her heart tightened, not with fear but with inevitability that a life was going to pay for this treason.
Centuries of ruling, wisdom, and vigilance had taught her to anticipate threats, but not ones like this. Not from one she had welcomed under her roof, one who had smiled with the courtesy of a scholar, who she discovered was secretly weaving shadows and evil designs of ambition.
Her silvered hair shimmered as she moved, light bending around her like a halo. Every step she took toward the royal library was with authority and fury. The corridors trembled beneath the power she radiated, the wards were responding to her presence, and magic snapped to attention at her wake.
Aveline's signature was recognisable. The Queen could feel it in the tremor of the library doors, the faint thrum beneath the oak. The evil wench had dared to call upon powers older than kingdoms built by human hands, and it had answered to do her bidding.
She found the library doors swinging open, a shadow framed against the light spilling from the hall. Aveline stood within, her black cloak brushing the floor, her eyes bright with triumph.
"You've overstepped your boundaries and your welcome," the Queen said, her voice full of fury as the room echoed all around her. Magic twisted around her tone, coiling in anticipation of the battle she knew would come.
Aveline's smile was slow and teasing. "Overstepped?" she said lightly. "I've only just begun. You kept me away from what was rightfully mine. I have merely come to claim it."
The Queen raised her hands, silver light spilling from her fingertips, tracing the intricate runes etched into the floors and walls. Shields rose around her, glimmering with centuries of protection. "Then you will pay the price for your arrogance and insolence."
Aveline laughed softly, a sound that cut like ice. The air between them rippled as dark magic unfurled. Shadows pooled at her feet, reaching out like fingers seeking the Queen's light. "Price?" she repeated. "You will find I am beyond your weak powers."
The room exploded into chaos. Light and darkness collided, arcs of energy shattering shelves, igniting scattered parchments, and tossing manuscripts into the air. The Queen moved with precision, each gesture commanding blasts of silver energy that flared outward like starlight.
Aveline countered effortlessly, weaving darkness into the silver, twisting it, bending it, feeding off it. The battle was not just about power, it was about strategy, mind against mind, centuries of skill against unrelenting ambition.
The Queen's breaths came fast but measured. Every moment she kept Aveline contained, every second she delayed the inevitable, was a victory in itself. But even she could sense the tide turning. The dark magic pulsed stronger, faster, more cunning than anything she had anticipated. Aveline had studied her, anticipated her moves. Every shield she raised was calculated, every barrier, every defensive spell accounted for.
"You've grown too bold," the Queen hissed. Her hands flared with energy, shooting beams of concentrated light toward Aveline, forcing her to dodge, forcing her to falter. Yet Aveline's movements were fluid, almost serene, her attacks flowing like a current of night, eroding the Queen's defences stroke by stroke.
The Queen stumbled back, her mind racing. She had faced invaders, traitors, even rogue fae before but none had touched her library, none had dared approach the very heart of her legacy with such intent. And yet, Aveline was not reckless. Every spell was precise, every attack deliberate. The Queen's mind reeled in search of a weakness.
"You will not claim this realm!" the Queen cried, summoning a blade of pure light. It sang as it moved, cutting through shadow with a sharp, crystalline note. She lunged at Aveline, aiming for the strike that would end this madness.
Aveline tilted her head, almost contemplative, and in that instant, the Queen saw the depth of her ambition and the lethal precision it carried. Shadow exploded from Aveline's fingertips, wrapping around the blade, pulling it into darkness, bending it, twisting it. The Queen screamed, but the sound was swallowed in the vortex of magic.
The library shook, books crashing from shelves, glass cracking, light fracturing into shards that rained across the floor. Every spell the Queen cast was met with an equal and opposite counter, and with each second, the tide shifted. Aveline's eyes glimmered with triumph, cold and resolute.
The Queen's breath caught. She had underestimated the scope of Aveline's power, the cunning witch that had been hidden beneath the guise of a polite scholar. She had underestimated the lengths to which ambition would go when fueled by hunger for knowledge and dominance. And now… it was almost too late.
A final strike rose from her, a concentrated surge of light meant to end the battle, meant to destroy the intruder once and for all. She poured every ounce of her power, every spell she had learned across lifetimes, into it. The beam lanced toward Aveline with blinding intensity.
Aveline met it with darkness so pure, so absolute, that the light faltered as if it were swallowed whole. The Queen staggered back, a hand to her chest as the magic recoiled, tearing through her shields, ripping at her essence. She had held the realm together through every threat, every rebellion, every war, but here, in this chamber, she was not enough.
The Queen fell to one knee, her chest heaving, silver energy flickering and fading around her. Aveline advanced, shadow pooling beneath her feet like ink spilled across the floor. Her voice was calm, cold, and final. "You cannot hold what is already claimed. You have done your best, Queen… but it is not enough."
The Queen lifted her gaze, her eyes burning with defiance even as her strength waned. "You may take my life," she whispered, voice trembling yet steady. "But you will never understand… what it means to rule… with honor and respect for living things… to protect…"
Her words faded as Aveline struck, a final burst of magic, precise and unyielding. Light and shadow collided one last time, and then it was over.
The Fae Queen fell, her breath slowing, eyes closing as her final spell unravelled in the air around her. The library, scarred and smoking, was silent save for the faint hiss of lingering magic. With her dying breath, the Queen muttered an enchantment causing every book, tome and scroll in the library to remain shut to a heart full of wicked intent. She sent one last telepathic message to her husband before she died.
Aveline stood amidst the ruin, cloak brushing the floor, her eyes reflecting triumph and satisfaction, the very pulse of the realm bending to her will.
For centuries, the Fae realm would remember this night. The fall of a queen, the rise of a shadow, the triumph of ambition over authority.
And somewhere, within the currents of magic that still trembled through the halls, Aveline felt a presence. Cassius.
He was closer than she had imagined, still bound by his curse, still tethered to the realm and to her designs. And she smiled, calm and unflinching. The battle was won, but the war for him… had only just begun.
The Fae realm would remember her name for a long time to come.