***
For a short moment, the king was taken back to the day Titania’s birth mother had brought her to the Seelie Court to reveal to him that he had a daughter. He remembered the time that had followed that, and all he saw was the child with the long, raven hair chasing after the colorful butterflies in the gardens of the citadel. Every night she'd begged him, with eyes already drooping, to read her a bedtime story, and he'd never been able to resist the adorable little girl she'd been back then.
The woman he saw in front of him was nothing like that girl. She still had the long, raven hair and the shockingly clear, blue eyes that were so much like his, but her face had changed. The fine, delicate lines along her cheeks and jaw had hardened, and her lips, once red and full like a cherry plum, were pinched into a thin line. He noticed that her skin had changed too. It had taken on a grayish shade that he'd never seen on a faerie before. It was now almost the same color as her wings.
Everything he'd pushed aside in his mind came rushing back at once. Arrows whirred past him, disappearing between the trees where their opponents had woken from their trance. The piercing sound of clashing metal filled his ears as the two armies collided in the forest.
"No! Stop!" He pushed forward, blocking the way for the knights that hadn't yet crossed into the woods. "They will run out of arrows and won’t be able to harm us as long as we stay inside the court," he said, but what he really thought was We can't harm her if we stay out of the woods.
Some stopped, staring at him in utter disbelief.
"But, my king," one of his men said, "we can't just hide in here. They will find a way."
The king felt anger coursing through his veins as he realized that they were trapped like a mouse in a cage. He stepped out of the knights’ way, defeated. "Everyone who carries a sword will go into the forest and fight. Those of you who have a bow will stay behind the border and shoot every man that tries to kill one of our own."
They all nodded and then split up; the swordsmen ran off into the woods to join the battle, and the archers positioned themselves on the top of the hill, already nocking arrows.
The forest was a mess of struggling limbs, swords stabbing, maces lashing out, spears flying, and the cries of terror of those who were defeated. Knights in shining, golden armor were struck down by blood-smeared, shabby faerie men and women. There was little time left for the king to take in the scene that unfolded in front of him, and his daughter had disappeared back into the shadows.
He grabbed one of the knights by the arm and pulled him close. "When Ophira returns, you will make sure that she stays in the court. If any harm comes to her, it'll be on your head!"
When the king released his grip, the man staggered back, terror on his pale face, but he nodded.
The king seized his sword and started off toward the woods, where his men continued to collapse under the force of their enemy. Some of Titania’s faeries paused and stared at him in confusion when he crossed the border. He recognized two of the faces: a dark-haired man, who'd worked as a Hunter at his court, hissed at him, swinging his mace menacingly; the woman at his side, a well-known Healer, let out a deep growl, slashing at the king with her sword. Neither of them showed the slightest indication that they still remembered who he was. The look on their faces when they came running towards him was the most disturbing one he'd ever seen.
The king swung his sword, cutting the man's throat, and he killed the woman by thrusting his weapon into her chest. All the surrounding spectators quickly averted their gazes, returning to their own battles.
He continued his way further into the forest. On all sides, his knights crumbled to the ground, clutching their bloody throats, arms, or legs and letting out deep, terrible moans. Some of his knights were successful, and as he pushed further along the path, he saw more and more faeries of the opposing army collapse, their eyes glazing over in the dull moonlight.
It grew difficult to see, even for the king’s enhanced faerie sight, and all of a sudden, he was consumed by the darkness, the moon blocked out by the thick treetops. Not many were fighting this far back, where the woods were the most dangerous and the movements of the trees unpredictable. As he ran past a small group, one of the opposing faeries was lifted off his feet by a gigantic tree swinging its thick branches. The faerie plummeted to the ground and was crushed by the whipping tree. Another tree tore free from its roots and crashed onto a faerie, burying her under its massive trunk. No one but the king noticed.
There were a few more groups scattered between the trees, but the king took care not to draw their attention as he made his way through the woods. He wondered where she'd gone. Had she realized that by parting with the Seelie Court her faeries were no longer able to enter the court and had thus decided to abandon them? He dwelt a bit longer on that thought, dodging low hanging branches as he walked.
All of a sudden, something hit him in the side with such ferocity that he was flung off his feet. He landed on his back, the impact forcing the air out of his lungs. He immediately fumbled for his sword that had slipped from his grasp, but he felt nothing but dirt and soaked leaves. Sighing, he rolled onto his stomach and pushed himself up. This time he heard the gallop of hoofs seconds before the beast crashed into him. There was a grinding sound when the boar's tusk gouged into his breastplate and lifted him off his feet.
The beast dashed through the woods with the king on its back, shoving every faerie aside that dared to come too close. The king heard one of his knights call after him, telling him to let go, but he wasn't even holding on to the boar. There was nothing he could do. The tusk stuck in his armor and the constant up and down made it difficult for him to get a grip on it. He flapped his wings like a desperate bird caught in a trap, but again, the tusk didn't budge.
He finally slipped free when the boar skidded to a halt, tossing him off its back. He flew through the air, knocked into a tree and finally came to a rest at its roots.
The boar was panting with rage, its huge body heaving with short quick breaths, but it didn't approach the king again.
The king gazed around, wondering how far away from the battle the beast had taken him. The faint sounds of metal on metal carried through the forest to him. He couldn't see them, but he was reassured knowing that his men were close and still fighting.
Followed by the boar's wary eyes, the king scrambled to his feet, pulling himself up along the trunk of the tree. Every bone in his body was aching after the agonizing ride on the boar's back, and his deformed breastplate was jabbing into his chest so badly it almost choked him. He struggled out of it and tossed it on the ground.
A disembodied laughter rang through the forest. "You, father, have made a terrible mistake."
The blood drained from his face and an icy cold lump formed in his chest when his daughter appeared, hovering between two trees. She looked dangerous in the dull light. Her lips curled into a malicious grin, and her wings spread wide. The fine, spidery lines of crystal blue were a shocking contrast to the wings' otherwise dark texture.
"Is this what you're looking for?" she teased while holding his sword tight in her hands. She traced a finger along the blade, gazing at it longingly. "I always admired it. You could say that I was even jealous of you having such a precious weapon. You promised me you would hand it to me the day I finished my training, yet you never did. Why, father?" She glanced up at him briefly, then lowered her eyes again. "You wanted to save it for Ophira, didn't you?"
At the sound of Ophira's name, the boar stomped with its hoofs, grunting.
Titania landed softly on her feet and walked over to the beast to pat its head as though it was a tiny, cute rabbit rather than a gigantic animal. The moment of distraction gave the king the chance to draw a short, parrying sword that he had kept hidden behind his back.
"Now tell me, father," she continued, "how does it feel to be despised by so many you thought were loyal to you?"
"What makes you think that they're loyal to you? What is it
you can offer them that I couldn't?"
Titania laughed again, the same crazed chuckle as before. "As you can see, they're obedient to their queen."
"Because you made them!" he screamed, staggering a few steps forward. Pain shot up his chest. "You and your ruthless people cursed all these innocents."
As though the boar had understood the king's words, it leapt forward, lashing out with its tusks, but before it could reach the king, its master called it back.
"I gave them what they deserved. Something that you should've given them a long time ago. Unlike you, I care about their needs."
"They never had to suffer under my reign."
The king’s chest flared up with pain. His free hand shot up, and he felt slick blood underneath his fingertips.
"Look at you." Titania came closer, the boar following her every move. "You may wear the face of a youth, but you're an old man. You're way past your time, and you know that."
He looked up. "Your actions will not only harm my people but yours too. Is that really what you want?"
"What I want," she said, still creeping forward, "is for you to die."
The words should've surprised him, but sadly, they didn't. The wound in his chest bled continuously, and he struggled to breathe properly. When he spoke again, his voice was already weak. "And why would you want that?"
Titania was close now, and he knew they were only one step away from ending the battle.
"Isn't that obvious?" Titania tilted her head to the side, gawking at him like a bird at its prey. "I want to rule Tír na nÓg. I want to wrench that crown from your head as you slowly bleed to death."
"Killing me won't make you the ruler."
Again, Titania laughed. "It's a start."
She moved faster than he'd expected. He tried to evade the attack, but his chest was aching so badly that he couldn't move. He felt the blade slip from his grasp. Long, strong fingers wound around his neck as Titania pinned him with full force against the tree. With her free arm, she drew back the sword—his sword—and then drove it through his heart. As she pulled it out, he cried so deep and grief-stricken that he didn't think the sound was actually coming out of his mouth, and then he collapsed onto his knees, clutching a hand to his chest, warm blood seeping through his fingers.
"No! Father!" cried out a female voice in the distance.
Through drooping eyes, he saw several figures emerge from the dark. Most of them were knights, their armor no longer shiny but damaged and smeared with dirt and blood. They were accompanied by some civilians—both men and women—that had a grip tight on long, wooden sticks. Amid them was a young woman, whose golden hair stood out in the dark, and who came running toward him and Titania.
"Father!" Her voice almost broke on the last syllable.
Ophira! he wanted to call, but he could only manage to articulate a gurgling sound. Blood filled his mouth, and he coughed.
Titania turned away from him and scoffed. "My sister. You can't imagine how delighted I am to see you."
"You!" Ophira cried, her voice trembling with rage. "When will you ever be done shedding the blood of our family?"
The king couldn't hear what Titania replied. Her words were drowned out by the pounding of his heart that desperately tried to continue pumping blood through his veins. But then several things happened at once: the boar advanced on the group of newcomers, chomping with fury, and the knights lashed out with their weapons at the beast; Ophira charged forward with her sword in her hands, but she missed her sister by mere inches.
"I can't be defeated," Titania mocked as she spun away from Ophira, her wings beating the air. "Once I've killed you, I will rule Tír na nÓg." She swung her father's blade at her sister.
Ophira moved quickly and gracefully, as though she was dancing, to evade Titania's attacks. Her eyes darted to her father, and for a split-second, she hesitated. He could see in her tear-filled eyes the pain of a hundred deaths, but she had to know that there was no way of saving him. She looked away again.
As the life drained from his body, the king felt himself slip away, and there was nothing he could do but watch his two daughters battle each other, slashing out with their weapons. There were so many things he wished he'd said and so many questions he had no answer to. Had it really been his fault? Could he have saved his daughter from becoming the monster she was now?
Everything was fading away, his vision blurring, but he could still see his daughters through half-closed eyes. Ophira had disarmed Titania and leaned over her, the tip of her sword hovering over her sister's heart.
Where had it all gone wrong? he wondered as he took his last breath.