CHAPTER 30: CH 30: PLANT THIEVES - PART 3

The fairies fluttered weakly, their wings trembling against the frozen air.

They moved in frantic circles, their glow flickering like dying embers. Each beat of their wings carried the same dreadful thought—

Was this the end?

The end of their species?

Food had become almost impossible to find. Every flower was frozen shut. Every blade of grass was buried under endless snow.

Their queen was dying.

And when the queen died, so would they.

Fairies were not separate beings. They were threads tied to a single soul. Their queen’s breath gave them breath. Her strength gave them strength. Her life was their life.

When she had grown too weak, she had sealed herself away.

Her body now rested inside a crystal cocoon, frozen in a state of hibernation. It was her only chance to preserve what little vitality she had left.

The fairies had been tasked with keeping her alive.

They had to bring her nutrition.

But they were herbivores. Their bodies were made to feed on plants, nectar, and soft fruits. None of these things existed in this endless winter.

Every day, more fairies collapsed from weakness. Every day, the light of their queen grew dimmer.

Hope was slipping away.

"We can’t go on."

"She’ll fade... and so will we..."

"It’s useless. We should accept it."

The air was heavy with despair. The cocoon glowed faintly in the center of their gathering, but its light no longer warmed them.

Then, one fairy stepped forward.

It was small, trembling, but carrying something in its arms.

The others widened their eyes.

The fairy held a bundle of strange green plants. Not frostbitten weeds. Not lifeless scraps. These were fresh, pulsing with faint vitality.

Whispers spread.

"Those are predator plants."

"How did it bring those here?"

"How? Those things devour anything that touches them!"

But the fairy didn’t answer. It simply pressed the plants against the queen’s cocoon.

The leaves dissolved into motes of light.

The cocoon pulsed.

The queen stirred.

Her faint glow brightened, spreading warmth through the clearing. The fairies gasped in unison.

"She responded!"

"She absorbed it!"

"The plants work!"

The hopeless silence broke into excitement. For the first time in moons, their queen had shown signs of life.

If predator plants could nourish her, then they had found a way to save their kind.

Dozens of fairies immediately swarmed around the brave one who had brought back the food.

"Show us."

"Take us there."

"We’ll follow you."

The colony’s despair shifted to determination. They would all risk their lives. They would all gather the predator plants.

If it meant saving their queen, nothing else mattered.

---

The next morning, Lucian crouched among his protective garden.

His eyes darkened.

The plants were in worse condition than ever. Their leaves were torn to shreds, their roots gnawed as if something had deliberately sought them out.

He ran his hand along the damaged stalks. The bite marks were far too small for animals. This wasn’t the work of beasts.

It was the work of something intelligent.

Something persistent.

"This isn’t random. My plants are being targeted."

He muttered. His voice was cold.

Lucian’s jaw tightened. His protective plants were vital. They formed the barrier that shielded the valley. If they failed, so would his defenses.

He couldn’t allow that.

That night, he prepared a trap.

He blended special herbs into the garden, weaving them among the protective plants. These weren’t ordinary herbs—they released spores that lulled any creature into a deep, unshakable sleep.

He didn’t need to hunt his enemy.

He would let it walk into his hands.

Lucian’s plan begins when next dawn broke.

He returned, silent and sharp-eyed.

What he found made him pause.

Tiny glowing figures lay sprawled across the leaves, wings drooping, bodies motionless except for faint breathing. Their glow flickered softly, like captured stars.

"Fairies."

He whispered.

He hadn’t expected this. But it didn’t change what needed to be done.

Moving swiftly, he plucked them from the plants and set to work. Using sticks and vines, he crafted a sturdy prison. Small, but unyielding.

By the time the fairies began to stir, they were already trapped inside.

Now, it was a matter of waiting.

______

The fairies awoke one by one.

Their eyes widened. Their tiny hands pressed against the wooden bars.

Panic erupted.

They buzzed their wings furiously, glowing brighter as they rammed the cage, trying to force their way out.

But the prison didn’t yield.

Lucian loomed over them, his expression unreadable.

"Stop,"

He said. His voice was sharp enough to slice through their fear.

The fairies froze.

"Behave. I’m not in the mood for your nonsense. Everything you’re doing is irritating me more and more."

Lucian continued.

His tone was calm, but laced with a weight that crushed their courage.

The fairies shrank back, trembling.

Lucian exhaled slowly, then turned away. He had no time to waste scolding pests. The cage was strong. They weren’t going anywhere.

He left them to ponder.

Lucian’s exit did not calm things down much. The fairies were panicking too much for that.

Even if Lucian’s energy spoke of safety to them, his threat still looked over the fairies head, making them consider what they should do next.

Luckily for them, the other two human members of the clearing was far more understanding when they approached the fairies.

Silence hung in the air until two figures approached.

Berry crouched near the cage, peering in with wide, curious eyes.

"Tiny little things, aren’t they?"

He murmured.

Mira knelt beside him. Her expression softened the moment she saw the frightened fairies.

"They’re terrified. Poor things... they must have been starving."

She whispered.

The fairies stared back at them, wings trembling, unsure whether to trust or fear these giants.

Berry chuckled lightly.

"Don’t be so scared. Lucian may look angry all the time, but he’s not cruel."

Mira nodded gently.

"He might bark, but he doesn’t bite. You’ll be safe."

The fairies blinked, exchanging hesitant glances.

For the first time since their capture, their glow steadied.

Perhaps... these humans weren’t enemies after all.