SIX DAYS AGO

  The transport pod curved through Earth's forgotten passages, taking Ophelia westward through tunnels that grew increasingly strange the further they progressed. The smallest of the three Anunnaki daughters sat with perfect stillness, her platinum blonde hair gleaming in the pod's dim light, her light grey eyes fixed on the holographic map that glowed before her.

  "Approaching western terminus," the navigation system announced. "Borderland junction in ninety seconds."

  Ophelia nodded, her small frame tense as she adjusted the midnight blue Drow garments that had replaced her Anunnaki formal wear. Unlike her sisters, who had physical stature that commanded respect, Ophelia had always relied on stillness and observation. Her mother Ereshkigal had considered this a weakness. But in the tunnels between worlds she was about to enter, perhaps it would become her strength.

  The pod slowed, then stopped at a junction where the structured Drow tunnels abruptly ended. Beyond lay something that barely resembled a passage at all—a riot of colors and textures that seemed to shift and rearrange themselves even as Ophelia watched.

  "Destination reached," the system informed her. "Further mechanical transport impossible due to dimensional fluctuations. Fae territories begin immediately beyond this point. Caution advised."

  Ophelia gathered her small pack containing essential supplies and the codex with their evidence. The medallion True Lord Styx had given her felt unusually warm against her skin, its symbols pulsing with bioenergetic signatures that intensified as she approached the borderland.

  She stepped from the pod, which sealed behind her and began its return journey. Alone now, Ophelia faced the entrance to Fae territory with a calm that belied her inner anxiety.

  Unlike the clear boundaries between Drow and Dwarven territories, or the gradual transition to Naga waters, the borderland before her presented no distinct threshold. The passage simply... changed. Colors became more vivid and angles more improbable.

  Ophelia took a deep breath and stepped forward.

  The change was immediate and disorienting. The tunnel around her appeared to stretch and contract simultaneously. Gravity shifted subtly, making each step feel lighter than the last. The air tasted of honey and ozone, and distant music played just at the edge of hearing—a melody that seemed to consist entirely of questions.

  "Well, well, well, what have we here?" a voice sang from somewhere above. "A little lost lamb with platinum hair, so prim and proper and oh so fair!"

  Ophelia looked up to see a small figure lounging impossibly on the ceiling, regarding her with upside-down curiosity. The being appeared mostly humanoid, though its proportions were slightly exaggerated, its skin a soft lavender, and its eyes far too large and luminous for any human face.

  "I am Ophelia, renegade daughter of Ereshkigal of Nibiru," she said, her voice steady despite the strangeness of addressing a ceiling-dwelling creature. "I seek audience with the Court."

  The Fae being flipped in midair, floating directly before Ophelia with a graceful flourish. Up close, it was taller than she expected, its features androgynous and its clothing a constantly shifting array of fabrics that seemed woven from twilight and dawn.

  "Ophelia, Ophelia, rhymes with... hmm, what does it rhyme with?" the being mused, circling her with apparent delight. "So serious for one so small! So rigid for one so young! So... alien." It wrinkled its nose at the last word.

  "Half-alien," Ophelia corrected, maintaining her composure. "I bear the royal seals of Mar'Dun, King of the Drow, and True Lord Styx of the Vampires."

  The Fae being froze mid-step, its playful demeanor vanishing for an instant before returning with doubled intensity. "Ooh! Shiny tokens and grand names! Do you collect them like pretty stones? Or perhaps you stole them when no one was looking? Oh please will you tell me? I love a good, enthralling story!"

  "I was entrusted with this mission," Ophelia replied, displaying the medallion. "The Symphony accelerates and Nibiru approaches ahead of schedule. I bring warnings and a plea for alliance."

  The Fae being leaned uncomfortably close, examining the medallion. Its breath smelled of wild berries and starlight.

  "Hmm, legitimate credential or clever falsehood?" it pondered, tapping its chin dramatically. "A puzzle wrapped in a riddle served with a side of enigma!"

  It straightened suddenly, clapping its hands. The sound echoed far longer than natural acoustics should allow.

  "Very well, daughter-of-but-not-quite-Ereshkigal! I shall be your guide to the Court! You may call me Pixguard Tinslewhistle, Third Adjunct to the Minister of Unexpected Visitors, Grand Collector of Oddities, and part-time connoisseur of human tears!"

  The being—Pixguard—executed an elaborate bow that somehow involved bending in three places a humanoid spine definitely shouldn't.

  "Follow closely, speak precisely, and whatever you do," it advised, its voice suddenly serious, "don't eat anything unless explicitly invited to. Names have power here, and debts are always collected."

  With that cryptic warning, Pixguard began walking down the tunnel, which seemed to rearrange itself ahead of them with each step. Ophelia followed, keeping her expression neutral despite the increasing strangeness surrounding them.

  The tunnel gradually widened into a series of interconnected chambers where physics seemed optional at best. In one room, waterfalls flowed upward, collecting in pools on the ceiling. In another, flowers bloomed and withered in seconds, releasing pollen that formed words in midair before dissolving into musical notes.

  Throughout their journey, they encountered more Fae—some barely larger than insects with dragonfly wings, others tall and regal with antlers sprouting from their brows. All watched Ophelia with varying degrees of curiosity, suspicion, or mischievous intent.

  "Don't mind the staring," Pixguard advised cheerfully. "Most haven't seen someone like you up close before. Not living, anyway."

  "That's... not reassuring," Ophelia noted.

  "Oh, was I trying to be reassuring?" Pixguard seemed genuinely surprised. "How terribly out of character for me!"

  After what might have been minutes or hours—time felt strange here—they arrived at a massive clearing within what appeared to be the hollow interior of an enormous tree. The space was larger than should have been physically possible, with balconies and platforms spiraling upward along the inner bark, all connected by bridges made of living vines that looked far too delicate to support weight.

  The center of the clearing held a court unlike any Ophelia had imagined. Fae of all descriptions lounged on furniture that seemed to be actively growing, arguing in languages that changed mid-sentence, and engaging in games whose rules appeared to shift with each move.

  And on a throne that seemed composed entirely of living butterflies, perpetually taking flight and returning to maintain its shape, sat Queen Titania of the Fae.

  She was beautiful in a way that hurt the eyes—too perfect, too vibrant, too present to process comfortably. Her hair shifted between all colors of sunset, her eyes contained constellations, and her laughter, which rang out as they approached, seemed to make reality itself hiccup briefly.

  "A visitor!" the Queen exclaimed, clapping her hands with childlike delight. "How absolutely, thoroughly, enchantingly DELIGHTFUL!"

  Pixguard bowed so low their head nearly touched the ground. "Your Resplendent Whimsy, I present Ophelia, spawn of Ereshkigal of Nibiru, bearer of tokens from Mardoom and Sticks."

  The Queen's attention fixed on Ophelia with sudden, uncomfortable intensity. "OooOOooooOOh! a little lizard-girl! But not quite, hmm? A bit broken, a bit mixed, a bit... interesting!" She clapped again, and the sound sent ripples through the air like stones in a pond.

  Beside the Queen's throne stood a Fae man who seemed oddly out of place amid the chaos—his attire practical, his posture straight, and his expression one of long-suffering patience. Where the Queen vibrated with chaotic energy, he radiated a steady, grounding presence. His skin was a deep green, his hair resembling moss, and his eyes a practical amber.

  "Your Majesty," he said in a voice surprisingly ordinary after the Queen's melodic tones, "perhaps we should hear what our visitor has to say before subjecting her to the usual entertainments."

  The Queen pouted elaborately. "Poppin Poppyseed, you are terribly, horribly, inexcusably BORING today!" She sighed dramatically. "But I suppose you're right, as usual. Very well!"

  She slowly, dramatically, turned her kaleidoscope eyes back to Ophelia. "Speak, you cute, little mixed-thing! Tell us why you've ventured into our delightful realm with your serious face and your important shinies!"

  Ophelia stepped forward, bowing respectfully before the Court. "Queen Titania, honored Court, I come with grave news and an urgent request. The Symphony accelerates, and Nibiru approaches Earth not in years, but in days."

  Murmurs rippled through the assembled Fae—some concerned, others delighted by the unexpected development.

  "The newly ascended Anunnaki Supreme Ruler Enzu has ordered the reset timeline compressed. By our calculations, less than six days remain before the inundation begins. The other bloodlines gather at Makhonjwa—Drow, Vampires, and hopefully Dwarves and Naga if my sisters' missions succeed."

  "Sisters?" the Queen interrupted, leaning forward with sudden interest. "You have sisters? Tell us about them! Are they small like you? Do they have your pretty hair? Do they dream in colors you can't name?"

  "Your Majesty," Poppin Poppyseed interjected gently. "Perhaps we should focus on the imminent end of the world before pursuing tangential inquiries?"

  The Queen waved a dismissive hand. "The world is always ending somewhere, Poppin Party Pooper! But how often do we get such an unusual visitor?" She fixed Ophelia with a penetrating stare. "You still haven't answered my questions, cuuutie~."

  Ophelia hesitated, then decided cooperation might be the fastest path forward. "My sister Enrosha is tall and strong, with chestnut skin and a standout afro. Qali has warm olive skin, ginger hair, and freckles across her face. We are all half-Anunnaki, born to different genetically modified humans on Nibiru. Our dreams, your Majesty, are far more downcast than you may think."

  "Marvelous!" the Queen exclaimed. "And do you love them? Would you die for them? Have you ever considered what they might taste like if properly prepared with cardamom and thyme?"

  "Titania," Poppin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

  "I love them," Ophelia answered simply, ignoring the Queen's more disturbing questions. "We've risked everything to warn the bloodlines and seek alliance. I would rather die than be forced to eat them."

  She reached into her pack, withdrawing the codex. "Your Majesty, I bring evidence stolen from Nibiru itself—proof of the accelerated timeline and the Anunnaki's plans."

  "Ooh, a light-show!" the Queen clapped excitedly. "Yes, yes, proceed with your evidence and your warnings and your terribly serious presentation!"

  Ophelia activated the codex, projecting holographic displays throughout the clearing. The evidence unfolded as it had in the Drow kingdom.

  The Fae court watched with varying levels of comprehension, some clearly understanding the technical details while others seemed entranced simply by the pretty projections. Queen Titania herself alternated between rapt attention and complete distraction, sometimes asking irrelevant questions mid-presentation.

  "Why is your mother so needlessly CRUEL?" she interrupted as footage showed Ereshkigal discussing contingency plans. "Is it because she can't taste the color of love? I've always suspected those who can't taste the fundamentals develop unfortunate personality disorders."

  "Your Majesty," Poppin said quietly. "The evidence seems quite conclusive. The harmonics clearly show disruption patterns consistent with an accelerated Symphony."

  The Queen pouted. "You and your boring FACTS, Poopin! I was more interested in the generational trauma between misguided extraterrestrial entities!"

  When the presentation concluded, Ophelia stood silent before the Court, awaiting their judgment. The Fae whispered among themselves in languages that rippled the air and occasionally caused small objects to levitate.

  Poppin Poppyseed stepped forward, addressing Ophelia directly while the Queen became distracted by a lone monarch butterfly that had separated from her throne.

  "Your evidence is compelling," he said, his practical amber eyes evaluating her carefully. "But you must understand our position. The Fae have maintained isolation from other bloodlines for many thousands of years. We've developed our own protections against the reset."

  Ophelia met his gaze steadily. "Those protections were calibrated for the natural progression of the Symphony. The acceleration changes everything. The patterns your ancestors recognized won't manifest as expected."

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  Poppin nodded thoughtfully. "A fair point. Yet alliance brings its own risks. The Drow and Vampires have... history with our kind."

  "As do we all," Ophelia acknowledged. "History deliberately engineered by the Anunnaki to keep us separated and weak."

  "Interesting assertion," Queen Titania suddenly rejoined the conversation, manifesting directly beside Ophelia in a manner that ignored the physical space between her throne and where Ophelia stood. "But I'm not convinced you're convinced, little broken-one."

  She circled Ophelia. "So tell me, daughter of Ereshkigal, what would you be willing to wager on your conviction? What price would you pay for our alliance?"

  Before Ophelia could respond, the Queen snapped her fingers. Reality rippled, and suddenly they stood in a different clearing altogether—smaller, more intimate, with only Ophelia, the Queen, and Poppin Poppyseed present.

  "There," the Queen said with satisfaction. "Much cozier for proper negotiation! Now, little one, let's discuss terms." She connected her fingertips in front of her face.

  Poppin sighed deeply. "Your Majesty, perhaps we could avoid the traditional—"

  "Sh sh sh sh sh, Poopy-Shmoopy!" The Queen's tone remained playful, but there was steel beneath it. "This is how we've always done things. This is how we'll always do things. Tradition and novelty, perfectly balanced!"

  She turned back to Ophelia, her smile wide and slightly predatory. "Three challenges, Ophi-phi! That's our price for alliance. Complete them successfully, and the Fae will join the gathering at Makhonjwa. Fail, and... well, let's not sink into unpleasant possibilities!"

  Ophelia maintained her composure, though her heart raced. She had been warned the Fae were unpredictable, but this sudden turn was jarring even with preparation.

  "What sort of challenges?" she asked carefully.

  The Queen's smile widened impossibly further. "Oh, nothing too terrible! A quest, a riddle, and a truth. Simple, really!"

  "Your Majesty," Poppin interjected, "given the urgency of the situation, perhaps we could expedite—"

  "Time works differently here, my practical Popper," the Queen reminded him. "No matter how long our little games take, I promise to deliver our guest to her destination with time to spare... if she succeeds, of course."

  She turned back to Ophelia. "So, little mixed-thing, do you accept our terms? Three challenges for the allegiance of the Fae?"

  Ophelia considered her options, which were effectively nonexistent. She needed the Fae alliance. If that required participating in their games, so be it.

  "I accept," she said simply.

  The Queen clapped her hands in delight, the sound creating sparkles of light in the air around them. "Wonderful! Let's begin immediately!"

  She waved a hand, and the clearing transformed again, this time becoming a labyrinth of hedges that stretched far higher than the enclosed space should have allowed. The plants themselves seemed to be breathing, occasionally shifting position when Ophelia wasn't looking directly at them.

  "Your first challenge!" the Queen announced from somewhere above. Though Ophelia could no longer see her, her voice surrounded them completely. "Find the center of the labyrinth! Sounds simple, yes? But this maze changes with your thoughts and doubts. The more uncertain your mind, the more complex the path becomes!"

  Poppin Poppyseed appeared beside Ophelia, looking resigned. "I'll accompany you," he said. "Not to help—that would violate the terms—but to observe and record your progress."

  "Is this really necessary?" Ophelia asked him quietly. "With what's coming—"

  "The Queen's ways are mysterious, often maddening, but never without purpose," Poppin replied. "These challenges are as much for our benefit as yours. The Fae do not ally themselves lightly."

  Ophelia nodded, acknowledging his point. "Then let's begin."

  As they entered the labyrinth, she immediately understood the Queen's warning. Each time she hesitated at a junction or questioned her route, the hedges would silently rearrange themselves, creating new paths and closing others. When doubt flickered through her mind about the Fae's trustworthiness, an entire section of the maze transformed completely.

  "Fascinating," Poppin noted as he observed her reaction. "You see it happening. Most challengers don't notice the changes."

  "I was raised—forced, really—to observe," Ophelia replied, carefully wielding her mind as she chose a path. "When you're considered the weakest, perception becomes survival."

  "Weaker?" Poppin raised a mossy eyebrow. "Or simply different in your strengths? Your size may have been a disadvantage on Nibiru, but here—" he gestured to a small passage that had appeared, one Ophelia could navigate easily but would have been challenging for someone larger, "—it offers unique advantages."

  Ophelia ducked through the passage, which led to a broader intersection. "You seem different from the others," she observed.

  "More boring, you mean?" He smiled slightly. "I provide balance, in my own ways. Every Court needs someone watching the foundations while others design ever more elaborate spires."

  "You're her anchor," Ophelia realized.

  "And the father of our six children," he added casually. "Though that part came later."

  Before Ophelia could respond to this unexpected personal disclosure, the maze shifted again. This time, however, she recognized a pattern in the movement—the hedges weren't just responding to her doubts, but forming a subtle pattern that pointed toward the center if viewed from the proper perspective.

  Understanding dawned. The challenge wasn't to overcome her doubts, but to use them—to observe how the maze responded and read the patterns created by the changes themselves. It was like a living hologram of her mind.

  With this realization, Ophelia began deliberately cycling through different thoughts, watching how the labyrinth responded. Doubt about her mission caused leftward shifts. Concerns about her sisters created new passages heading right. Memories of Nibiru opened paths behind her.

  By carefully controlling her thoughts, she effectively steered the maze, rather than allowing it to confound her. Poppin watched with growing interest, saying nothing but nodding appreciatively at her approach.

  In less time than seemed possible, they reached the center—a circular clearing where Queen Titania lounged upon a throne of living violet roses.

  "Well done, Ophi-phi!" the Queen exclaimed, genuinely impressed. "You solved it through paradox. How delightfully unexpected!"

  "Thank you, Your Majesty," Ophelia replied, carefully neutral.

  "But we've only just begun!" the Queen continued cheerfully. "Your second challenge awaits!"

  She snapped her fingers, and the labyrinth dissolved into mist. When it cleared, they stood on the bank of a river that glowed with an inner light, its waters flowing in impossible patterns sometimes splitting to flow in different directions.

  "The River of Sacrifice," the Queen announced. "Its waters flow with forgotten memories and discarded dreams. Your challenge is simple: retrieve something precious I lost in its depths many ages ago."

  "What are you looking for specifically?" Ophelia asked.

  The Queen's smile turned enigmatic. "If I knew that, it wouldn't be lost, would it? You must determine what's precious to me."

  Ophelia looked at the river dubiously. "Am I expected to swim in it?"

  "Oh my, no!" the Queen laughed. "The waters would dissolve your consciousness in moments. You must use other means to search its depths."

  She gestured to a collection of curious tools arranged on the riverbank—a silver net with holes too large to catch anything physical, a mirror that reflected nothing near it, and a dotted mushroom carved from opalescent crystal.

  "Choose your tool wisely," the Queen advised, "and perhaps ask the right questions before diving into impossible tasks."

  Ophelia studied the tools thoughtfully, then looked back at the Queen. Despite her chaotic nature, there were patterns to her behavior—her delight in questions, her constant references to Ophelia being "broken" or "mixed," and her fixation on Ophelia's sisters.

  A realization formed. The Queen wasn't just testing Ophelia's problem-solving abilities—she was probing for something specific about Ophelia herself.

  "Before I choose," Ophelia said carefully, "may I ask why you called me 'broken' earlier?"

  The Queen's eyes sparkled with increased interest. "Ooh, questions about questions! How meta! I called you broken because that's how they made you feel, isn't it? Your mother, the others on Nibiru. Too small, too quiet, you’re not proper Anunnaki material. A failed experiment, riiiiiiiight?"

  The words struck uncomfortably close to Ophelia's core insecurities, but she maintained her composure. "And yet, here I am, entrusted with a critical mission."

  "Indeed!" The Queen clapped delightedly. "Which suggests you're not broken at all, just built different! Now, what tool will you choose to find my precious lost thing?"

  Ophelia approached the riverbank, examining each tool more closely. The net with holes too large for physical objects might catch something conceptual—memories or ideas. The mirror that reflected nothing nearby might show what was distant or hidden. The crystal mushroom… she didn’t quite know.

  But something felt wrong about all three options. They were too obvious, too literal for the Fae's riddling ways.

  Ophelia looked back at Queen Titania, noting again her fixation on probing questions about family and connections.

  "I choose none of these tools," Ophelia said finally.

  The Queen's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Oh? Do you forfeit the challenge then?"

  "No," Ophelia replied. "I believe what you lost—what's precious to you—isn't in the river at all."

  She took a calculated risk.

  "What you lost was connection," Ophelia continued. "The Fae have isolated themselves from other bloodlines and maintained separation even as the cycles repeated. You've forgotten what it means to be part of a larger collective. You’ve sacrificed the ocean to swim in the river."

  The Queen's expression shifted, her playfulness replaced momentarily by something older and wiser. "Interesting theory. And how would you retrieve this connection?"

  "By offering it anew," Ophelia said, extending her hand toward the Queen. "An alliance not just of necessity but of recognition. We are stronger together, as my sisters and I discovered when we rejected our heritage to forge our own path."

  For a moment, the Queen remained still, her wild kaleidoscope eyes studying Ophelia with newfound intensity. Then, slowly, she extended her own small hand, touching Ophelia's palm lightly.

  "Clever little pioneer, aintcha?" she said softly. "You saw past the challenge to its purpose. Few have managed that and with such finesse."

  The river behind them began to glow brighter, its waters rising up in a spiraling column. Within the liquid formation, images appeared—Fae interacting with other bloodlines in ancient times, sharing knowledge, celebrating together, and fighting side by side against shadowy figures clearly recognizable as Anunnaki.

  "We were not always apart," the Queen acknowledged as the images played out. "The divisions came later, forced by those who feared our combined strength."

  The river subsided, returning to its bed with a musical splash. Poppin Poppyseed watched the exchange with quiet approval, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

  "Two challenges met," the Queen announced, her usual exuberance returning. "One remains: the challenge of truth."

  She snapped her fingers again, and their surroundings transformed once more. This time they appeared in a simple circular room with walls of pure crystal. In the center stood a small pedestal upon which rested a single feather that shifted colors continuously.

  "The Feather of Non-Duality," the Queen explained. "Place your hand upon it and answer three questions. If you speak pure truth—not just factual accuracy, but truth from the depths of your being—the feather remains light. If you dissemble, equivocate, or lie, even by omission, it grows heavier with each untruth until it weighs more than mountains."

  Ophelia approached the pedestal slowly. "And if it becomes too heavy?"

  "Then you fail the challenge," the Queen replied simply.

  Taking a deep breath, Ophelia placed her hand on the feather. It felt strangely warm against her palm, and seemed to pulse in rhythm with her heartbeat.

  "First question," the Queen announced, her voice suddenly serious. "Why did you really leave Nibiru?"

  Ophelia hesitated, considering how to frame her answer, but immediately felt the feather grow slightly heavier. Understanding that even calculation would be interpreted as evasion, she let her defenses drop completely.

  "I left because I was nothing there," she said quietly. "Not a daughter, not even a failed experiment anymore. Just a forgotten thing, irrelevant to their plans. When I discovered the truth about Earth, about the Symphony, and about what they had done to countless beings... it gave me purpose. It gave me a way to matter; not to my parents, but to the universe. It… it gave me a path to finally be something other than my mother's embarrassing mistake."

  The feather remained light, even seeming to float slightly upward against her palm.

  The Queen nodded, apparently satisfied. "Second question: What do you fear most about the gathering at Makhonjwa?"

  Again, Ophelia answered from her deepest truth, without calculation.

  "That we'll succeed in gathering the bloodlines, but still fail against the Anunnaki. That all this hope, all this sacrifice, will end with nothing changed. That I'll watch my sisters die for a rebellion that was doomed from the start."

  The feather continued to float gently against her palm, accepting her answer.

  "Final question," the Queen said, leaning closer. "If you could return to Nibiru right now—restored to your mother's favor, accepted fully, and given everything you ever wanted—would you?"

  Ophelia closed her eyes briefly, genuinely contemplating the scenario. The feather waited, neutral, neither lightening nor growing heavier as she thought.

  "No," she said finally, opening her eyes to meet the Queen's gaze directly. "Because what I wanted there was acceptance based on their terms, their values. I've discovered different ones now. Better ones. I don't want to be Anunnaki anymore. I want to be... Ophelia. Just Ophelia. Whatever that turns out to mean."

  The feather glowed suddenly, lifting entirely from the pedestal to float in the air between them. It spun rapidly, then burst into a shower of tiny fireworks that spread throughout the chamber before fading.

  Queen Titania's smile was different now—still playful, but with a depth of genuine emotion that had been absent before.

  "Well done, Just-Ophi-phi," she said softly. "You have completed all three challenges with more insight than most who have tried, ever."

  The crystal chamber dissolved around them, returning them to the grand Court where the other Fae waited expectantly.

  "The Court has decided!" the Queen announced grandly. "The Fae will join the gathering at Makhonjwa! Prepare the shadowpaths! Awaken the boundary-walkers! We march with the bloodlines against the Symphony's yucky discord!"

  Cheers and exclamations of surprise rippled through the assembled Fae. Some immediately began preparations, their bodies shifting into forms more suited for travel or combat, while others engaged in animated discussions about what defenses to bring.

  Poppin Poppyseed approached Ophelia, bowing slightly. "You've accomplished something unprecedented today," he said quietly.

  "Thank you for your support," Ophelia replied, recognizing that his steady presence had provided crucial counterbalance to the Queen's chaos throughout the challenges.

  "I did very little," he demurred. "The challenges revealed your character, not mine."

  Queen Titania danced over in the air. "We leave immediately! The shadowpaths will carry us swiftly to Makhonjwa—much faster than boring surface travel!"

  "Shadowpaths?" Ophelia inquired.

  "Our own network of connections," Poppin explained. "Similar to the Dwarven deep ways, but operating on different principles."

  "Less physical, more metaphorical," the Queen added cheerfully. "Perfectly safe! Usually. Mostly. Well, safer than trying to outrun the wacky wild water across the surface, certainly!"

  She spun in midair, her excitement palpable. "Oh, this will be GLORIOUS! How long has it been since we properly opposed the lil’ snakey-snakes, ???oppin?"

  "Since the time of our ancestors, Your Majesty," he replied promptly.

  "Too long!" She clapped her hands, creating a sound like tiny bells. "We've grown complacent in our joyful, delightful, revelrous isolation! It's time to remember who we are when we stand together!!!" She struck a pose, to no one’s current knowledge, all too reminiscent of those select humans twenty-one million years in the future who sacrificed everything to deliver messages of love and friendship to humanity; those humans who would use their voice and body to sing and dance on a stage, in their room, or even on the street to make others smile.

  She turned to Ophelia, suddenly serious again. "Your sisters were right to send you to us, Just-Ophelia. You brought patience and observation—qualities the Fae respect beneath our dazzling frivolity."

  "Thank you, Your Majesty," Ophelia said, genuinely moved by the recognition of strengths that had always been dismissed on Nibiru.

  "Now!" The Queen's exuberance returned instantly. "To the shadowpaths! Makhonjwa awaits, and we have a closing act to improvise!"

  As the Court mobilized around them, Poppin leaned closer to Ophelia. "Prepare yourself," he advised quietly. "The shadowpaths are... disorienting to the uninitiated. And there are things that dwell between the worlds that even we approach with caution."

  "Things?" Ophelia asked.

  "Beings that predate even the eldest among us," he explained, his practical amber eyes serious. "Most sleep. Some wander. Some wait coiled in the depths to exact revenge on the ones who cast them there. All are best avoided."

  Before Ophelia could inquire further, Queen Titania swept between them, linking arms with both.

  "Enough whispers and warnings!" she declared. "Adventure awaits! Danger lurks! Rebellion beckons! And if we're very, very fortunate, perhaps we'll survive to see what comes after! YAHOOOOIII!!!!!!"

  With that ambiguously encouraging sentiment, she pulled them toward a previously unseen doorway that had appeared in the massive tree trunk—an opening filled not with light or darkness, but with something that seemed to be neither and both simultaneously.

  As Ophelia stepped through the doorway into that impossible space, she spared a final thought for her sisters. Had they succeeded in their own missions? Were they already on their way to Makhonjwa? Or did they face challenges as strange and revelatory as those the Fae had presented her?

  She would discover those answers soon enough. For now, she followed Queen Titania and her husband into the realm between realms, carrying the alliance that might determine the fate of all bloodlines—and perhaps, the future of Earth.