That was it. It almost felt anticlimactic to Petit, like there should have been something more. The house disappeared out of view as the three grew farther. They wandered the gravel path, following the sun as it rose in the sky.  

Worried he was slowing Milly down, since she would frequently check her shoulder to assure herself of his safety, Petit moved to Enrika’s hands.  

The gravel path ended, giving way to dense evergreen forest. Pine scents filled the air, and the area became slightly darker, the monolithic trees blocking out some of the light. 

Reclining in the girl’s palms, Petit took in deep breaths of the fresh morning air. He realized he much preferred travelling in the day. The air was less crisp, and there was, of course, infinitely more visibility for someone less visually inclined than Enrika. Though there wasn’t a whole lot to look at, the lush greens, towering trees, and blue skies adorned with puffy clouds were quite nice. 

“Wow, Petit, can’t you at least try to look like you’re doing half as much work as us?” Enrika scoffed sarcastically into her cupped hands. 

“Watch your tone, you’re currently in the presence of the princess’ most prized possession.” Petit retorted. 

“Yeah, ex prized possession if I've anything to say about it.” Enrika struck back. 

“What’s this you’re talking about?” Millicent interjected. 

Petit looked up at Enrika. “Does she know?” 

Enrika shrugged; her eyes wide.  

Petit shifted his gaze to Milly. “We’re from the princess’ estate. She was not pleased that we left. We'll leave it at that.” He explained. 

“WHAT?! I’m not going anywhere with outlaws!” Milly shouted. A smile crept across her face, and she began to chuckle. “Had you worried, didn’t I? Heh, I don’t mind.” 

Petit deflated. Enrika’s arms below him loosened. 

Eventually, noon struck, the sun reaching its apogee in the center of the sky. They paused to allow Milly to put down her pack and rummage through it. 

“You sure it’s in there?” Enrika asked after a while. 

“Yeah, of course, I wouldn’t leave without it... here it is!” Milly cheered triumphantly, withdrawing a compass from the bag. She placed it in Enrika’s hand next to Petit. 

“Look at that, now you’ve got something to do besides recite pastry recipes.” Enrika teased. 

Petit rolled his eyes and unlatched the cover from the compass. It was a simple thing but seemed to be accurate. It looked like they were a tad off their heading.  

“Turn right a little.” Petit instructed.  

Enrika did so, fixing their heading. They walked onward. 

“So,” Enrika conversed, “when your parents left to town, I saw something labelled ‘royal milk’. What’s that all about?” 

“That’s cow-kin milk. We make it.” Milly explained nonchalantly. “Very popular if you can afford it. It was on your mashed potatoes, Petit.” 

Petit became a bit anxious hearing this. “How do you make it?” 

“With these!” Milly grinned, cupping her massive breasts. 

Petit went wide-eyed. 

“Oh, relax.” Milly dismissed. “You’ve probably had it plenty of times without even realizing it, if you were with the princess. Royal family loves the stuff, says it makes 'em feel more full than normal milk.” 

“I’m not huge on it. Wreaks havoc on my gut.” Enrika shrugged. “You’ve really never heard of it?” She asked, seeing Petit’s shocked silence. 

“I... guess I haven’t.”  

“Huh.” Milly and Enrika both mused. 

... 

The sun began to dip below the horizon, it’s shining no longer bearing on the backs of Enrika and Millicent (not quite so much Petit’s, as he was in Enrika’s shadow.) 

“We should probably set up camp soon,” Petit suggested. 

“I don’t know, I think I’ve got another hour left in me.” Enrika said. 

Petit gestured behind Enrika at Milly, struggling to find her footing in the darkness. 

“Wait! Hold on, I’ve got a lamp!” Milly announced, taking her pack of her shoulder.  

She unhooked the dangling lamp and withdrew a sharpened flintstone and a piece of steel. She struck them together into the lamp, temporarily illuminating the darkness, but the lamp failed to light.  

Giving the device an inquisitive look, she picked it up and shook it around a bit before frowning. 

“Bah. No juice.” She informed. 

Enrika sighed. “Okay, let's set up camp here tonight.” 

Milly happily began digging around in her bag again, withdrawing a large cloth with a string drawn around it, converting it to a sack of sorts. 

She set it down on the ground and opened it up, presenting a large pile of food stores. “Okay, I have a few boiled eggs here.” 

“We should try to save as much as we can, just in case.” Petit said. 

“I’ll get some berries!” Enrika stated more than suggested, placing Petit on the ground to head off to the nearest bush. 

“I’ll start a fire.” Milly began moving around rocks to create a ring. 

Petit was left to simply twiddle his thumbs awkwardly on the ground. There wasn’t much he could do to help with the raw labor aspect, when it came down to it. He just hoped his intelligence would make up for it, though he was certainly no academic. 

He watched Milly walk back and forth from the soon to be firepit, carrying multiple rocks at a time in her cupped arms before switching to carrying branches and dried leaves once the ring was finished. Satisfied with her work, she retrieved her flint and steel, and with a solid strike lit a spark. She lightly blew on it until it grew to an acceptable size, illuminating the surrounding area in flickering orange firelight. 

Enrika returned just as the sky turned fully to night, the glimmering stars above becoming visible. She placed the berries onto the cloth Milly had laid out before taking a seat on the ground near the fire. 

They heated up their eggs over the fire to enjoy them warm. Enrika peeled them for herself and Millicent, but Petit wanted to peel his own, if only for the fleeting sense of his own autonomy. 

He hated to admit it, but he had been feeling increasingly useless as of late. Even the compass thing Enrika or Millicent could have done easily if they’d wanted to, Petit thought glumly. 

His self-deprecation was interrupted when he noticed Enrika stand up across from him. She turned her back towards the fire, evidently warming herself up. Her puffy tail was raised, most likely to avoid setting the thing on fire. 

“Sit your ass back down, no one wants to see that.” Milly teased playfully, finishing another of what Petit had counted to be half a dozen eggs up to that point. 

“Speak for yourself!” Petit said semi-sarcastically in case Enrika took offence to Milly’s remark. 

“What?” Enrika grinned. “The ground is cold, I have to warm up!” 

Suddenly, the fire expanded into a much brighter fireball, making Petit concerned for a moment that it might have singed his eyebrows off. 

Enrika yelped and recoiled in surprise, rapidly inspecting her body to check if she was on fire.  

“Woah!” Petit exclaimed; eyes wide. His heart was almost beating out of his chest in fright. 

“What the underworld was that?!” Milly asked concernedly. 

Enrika was blushing heavily. “I didn’t know they did that.” She muttered quietly, embarrassed. 

Petit leapt up. “That was insane!” He cheered excitedly. “Are you kidding me?! That’s awesome!” 

Milly raised an eyebrow. 

“Flammable farts! Someone’s gotta write that down!” He continued. “Hell, no need, I’m never gonna forget that!” He laughed off some of the adrenaline high.  

Enrika, if one was creative enough, could now be a fire-mage. The thought was one Petit was fond of, both for the possible applications and the sheer absurdity of it. 

Despite the shock of the preceding events, Milly yawned. She made her way over to her bag and unclipped two rolled-up paillasses – a straw-filled sack one could use to sleep when a bed was not an option, as well as a cut-off portion of an old blanket. She set them out for herself and Enrika.  

“So, here’s something for you to sleep in.” Milly handed the portion of blanket to Petit. “But you might get cold at night, so… if you want to… you can… y’know… lay in this sleeping bag with me.” Milly said, blushing. “That is, if you’re okay with it.” She glanced at Enrika. 

Enrika looked at Petit then at Milly. “Do what you want,” Enrika dismissed, getting into her sleeping bag. 

Shit, Petit cursed in his own head. What am I gonna do now? I can’t offend either of them. And gods know what would happen if I went into Enrika’s bag... He shivered at the prospect. 

“I think I’ll... just go in the pack, please.” Petit requested.  

Milly seemed to understand, placing him in it and sealing it shut behind him.  

It was uncomfortable, but it retained heat adequately and it was quiet. What more could he have asked for, he supposed. He shut his eyes and went to sleep, trying to clear his mind. 

… 

Petit heard rustling outside the bag. Enrika and Milly were talking to one another, mostly pleasantries and instructions they passed to one another while cleaning up the space. They’d take him out when they were finished, he assumed. 

The bag shifted and moved. 

“Wait a second!” Petit recognized Enrika’s voice. The bag stopped moving. “Petit’s in there, almost forgot.” 

The bag opened, Milly’s face becoming visible as she peered inside. 

“Morning.” Petit grumbled. 

He was removed from the bag, returning to the day prior’s place in Enrika’s hand before they set off to finish the walking leg of the journey to Starterton. 

Or, at least, they should have.  

A sudden impenetrable darkness set over the group, making vision impossible. In a flash, Petit felt his stomach lurch as he was grabbed by... something. It was fluttering audibly, but he couldn’t see what it was. 

“Sleeping spell!” A high-pitched voice said from above him. 

“I’m trying!” Another replied anxiously before switching to a strange set of phonetics indecipherable to Petit. 

“It’s caldraheed, not caldranit, you blubbering idiot!” The first voice berated. 

The other voice continued their incoherent vocalizations, though Petit did recognize that they had, in fact, corrected their mistake in saying caldraheed as opposed to the apparently more correct caldranit. It must have been correct, because his eyes grew heavier, his mind foggier, and his limbs looser. Gods, he could use a nap... 

… 

“Shit! What the underworld was that?” Enrika shouted. 

“I... I don’t know!” Milly seemed just as confused. 

“Where’s Petit?!” 

“I thought you had him!” 

“I did!” Enrika looked at her empty palms. He had just been there, right before the strange darkness upon them. Even Enrika, with her heightened vision, was unable to discern anything. 

“There!” Milly pointed to the tree line. 

Enrika swivelled toward it. She couldn’t pick it out at first, but then she saw it. A small set of human-shaped figures, flying away. They were incredibly small, no bigger than Petit. 

“Pixies.” Enrika cursed under her breath. 

... 

There was a painful, throbbing pain on the back of Petit’s head. He sat up, trying to remove the pressure on his prior table-related injury. Where was he? Hadn't he fell asleep in Milly’s pack? He looked around. 

A chamber, that was where he was. White root-like protrusions covered the walls, wrapping around the room, winding and splitting. On the mycelium walls, small white buds flowered, bathing the room in a dim white glow.  

On the far side, a door, with a female figure standing in it.  

The most concerning part was that it was all normal size. As in, the chamber, the door, the feminine figure, all were proportional relative to Petit. It gave him a bit of a headache, as he had had no experience with anything of this size, resulting in his eyes getting the idea that there was some sort of trickery afoot, and struggling to focus. 

“You’re awake!” The girl on the other side of the door said. 

She entered the room. The first thing Petit noticed was the tray in her hand, filled with what looked to be food. He must have been hungry, because that was by far the least noteworthy thing about her. For one, she was the same size as him. 

This was obviously a shock to Petit.  

Her hair was a bright orange, not a ginger type, but a true orange. She was robed in leaves, tightly wound and fitted into a skintight outfit. Membranous, translucent wings, each the length of her body, sprouted out on either side of her body.  

A pixie? 

“I’m so sorry for you!” She said, placing the tray on the ground. “I can’t imagine what those beast-kin must have done to you.” The apparent pixie wrapped her arms around Petit in a warm hug. “Your poor wings...” 

Confused, Petit looked down at the girl, resting her head in the nook of his shoulder. It was a feeling he had never felt before, being embraced. It was lovely, he thought. Her mutterings returned to his mind. “My... wings?” 

“Midori!” An angered male voice appeared on the other side of the door, outside the room which Petit was quickly coming to realize was a cell. “Return here this instant! Do not go near that traitor, we do not know how deep his dissociation runs.” 

The girl, named Midori, if the voice in the hall were to be trusted, unwound from him and stepped back. Petit tried to peer around the corner, but realized his throat was bound to the wall behind him, as well as his hands. 

“He has not been torn from the heart of the Fae!” The girl rebuked into the hallway. “I can see it!” 

The man rounded the corner, into the cell. He was visibly taller than Petit, but on the skinnier side. He was betrothed in an armor set built of bark, and what looked to be a short sword was holstered at his hip. “That is not for you to decide.” He said to Midori. “That is a decision to be made by the choir, when he stands trial.” 

Midori groaned, the groan of someone who had heard the same thing many times before and had given up on pressing against it. She walked out, leaving the tray of food with Petit. 

The door shut, and the pair of pixies walked away. Through the bars of the door, Petit saw Midori glance back at him, looking disappointed.  

He was left alone, for the time being, with nothing but the food, his thoughts, and the mycelium walls to keep him company. Biting into what looked to be a small mushroom, he tried to recall the preceding events. 

Memories began falling into place. There was the morning, he remembered that. Waking up in the bag, Enrika and Milly talking to one another. They started walking, and then... 

He had been kidnapped. By the fairies, assumedly. Why would they throw them in a cell, if they hadn’t? But why? For who’s purposes? The way Midori was talking, she seemed to believe it was for his own purposes. 

His mental ramblings were cut short by a group of soldiers at the door. Wordlessly, they entered and flanked behind him to release his bindings from the walls. Midori was no longer present. 

“What’s going on? Why am I here?” Petit asked his foremost questions. He had plenty more where that had come from, but that would be a good start. 

No answer.  

“Come.” One of them said to Petit. The other three (there had been four, apparently) surrounded him, two holding his wrist bindings, another holding the one around his neck. On of them had their foot firmly planted in Petit’s half-eaten food tray. For some reason, this disappointed Petit the most out of all his current issues.  

They led him down the hallway, the glowing mycelium buds and white roots giving way to soft moss. Purple-hued lichens dotted the walls. 

“The bastard hasn’t got wings.” The one from before spoke. “He’ll need to take the bridge.”  

The other three stomped their left foot in a gesture Petit assumed to have a similar meaning to nodding one’s head. 

The interior gave way to an exterior, where Petit came to the realization that he had been within an exceptionally thick tree.  

So this was a pixie civilization. Bridges of spider silk stretched across the vast spaces between trees, beehive-like spherical structures hung from and encased branches. Pixies flew back and forth through the trees, attending to their own purposes without passing a lick of attention to anything else.  

Petit looked down. 

They were very high up.  

Petit looked back up and decided to never look down again as long as he was there. 

“So, where are we?” He asked. 

No reply again. 

These soldiers were very poor conversationalists. 

They marched forward toward one of the silken bridges before them. Petit took a closer look at the structure. 

It had bits of bark placed to serve as steps, and it had a handrail of admittedly pretty ivy curling around. He stepped on. 

... 

“They went this way, right?” Enrika looked around, trying to find any sign of the presence of pixies. She looked back to Milly, who had begun eating their supply of azureberries. “Put those away!” 

“Girl’s gotta eat.” Milly insisted. “Faster we get Petit, less time walking, less eating.” 

Enrika groaned. 

“They did go that way.” Milly answered Enrika’s previous question. 

... 

Petit stood in front of an amphitheater of pixies. In the center, a small, more professional-looking group of six. The four guards continued to surround him. 

The speaking one, who he assumed to be the highest-ranking member of the group, presented Petit. “Behold! We humbly present to the choir, and all viewing parties, one who stands trial under the crime of separation from the heart of the Fae.” 

“Your trial stands accepted. Present your case.” One of the members of the professional looking group in the center permitted flatly. Petit assumed this group to be the choir, as the guard had called them. 

The crowd leaned in, taking interest in the case. 

“Thank you, voice of the choir.” The guard gave a courteous bow. “The accused, as witnessed by myself and others, was seen affiliating with beast-kin.” 

The crowd gasped, repulsed by the idea. 

“Indeed, this is most concerning.” The guard continued. “Furthermore, he has committed the crime of unmuted expedition, for a length of time we assume to be extensive.” 

A series of boos from the crowd. Petit almost couldn’t believe it. 

“we are left unsure of the state of his mind. Accounting for all evidence, we conclude that this man is either a traitor and coward, or a victim of deceit.” 

“Will there be anything else?” Another of the choir piped up. 

“Yes, voice of the choir. Due to his affiliation with beast-kin, and the questions he presented during the travel here, we are led to the belief that he is also under a spell of amnesia.” 

There was a silence. The crowd grew tense, looking to the choir, who sat unconcerned, their facial expressions unchanging and emotionless. 

“Does the accused have any words for himself?” Yet another member of the choir spoke. 

“Yeah!” Petit shouted. “I’m not a Pixie, I’m a guy! A human!” 

A few members of the crowd stood up, dismayed. Petit spotted Midori among the crowd, looking concerned. 

“More evidence of the claim.” The guard concluded. 

“No, no! That’s not it at all!” Petit continued. “I’m shrunk, and those were my friends! Look, no wings.” He turned his back to the choir.  

“Preposterous!” Someone from the crowd shouted. “He has been deceived!” Another cried. 

They would assume he had had his wings removed. Left no better option, Petit tore open his tunic, revealing his scarless back to the crowd. 

“OoOo!” A voice from the crowd swooned.  

Petit rolled his eyes. “I’ve never been a pixie, I’m a man, always have been.” 

“An impossible claim!” The crowd spat. 

“An intriguing case.” One of the choir members noted. Petit thought he saw a twitch of emotion in their facial expression. 

“Listen, alright? I don’t even know what ‘muting’ is! What in Statera is the ‘heart of the Fae’?” 

“Inspect his radiance.” A choir member instructed. 

From the far right, a hunched, aged figure approached, leaning on a wooden staff, which had a large asymmetric crystal imbedded in it. 

The old figure, a man, Petit noticed. He placed a hand on Petit’s chest, his spindly fingers laid flat against him. He shut his eyes tightly, focusing intently. 

There was silence once more. The crowd leaned in. Midori looked hopeful. 

The man retracted his hand and whispered into the guard’s ear before shambling back to his previous space. 

“Present his findings.” The first choir member demanded. 

“Balthazar finds no incantations upon the accused, neither amnesia inducing nor shrinking.” The guard spoke. “However, he noted that the accused possesses no energies indicative of the Fae. Quite the contrary, he demonstrates powerful magic capacities, the likes of which only seen among the ranks of man.” 

The crowd whispered among themselves. Even the choir turned to speak to each other. This went on for a while before the choir all together stood. 

“We present our conclusion.” The choir sang in unison, heavenly harmonies Petit had never heard before. “This is the wingless fairy-king foretold in prophecy, one destined to defeat a great evil and save the Fae!” The choir grinned, looking exceptionally excited. 

The crowd leapt up out of their seats, shrieking cheers and applauds. They clapped and danced, and generally looked quite happy. 

Petit’s heart sank to his gut. 

... 

Enrika held her hand against her forehead, shading her eyes while she squinted at the strange blue lights in the distance. At the treetops, concealed by the dense branches, there was something. She wasn’t sure what it was, but it was certainly there. There wasn’t much to go off, but her mind seemed to recognize the objects as something other than the forest. There wasn’t any evidence of this that she could pick out, more so a gut feeling.  

She gestured for Millicent to follow her and approached the strange artifacts, intending to get as close as she could without having to climb a tree.  

There were small dots flicking through the area, almost indiscernible. As Enrika got closer, their shapes became more apparent. They were pixies, sure enough, in their own little forest civilization. 

Enrika was not fond of pixies. 

The pests were uppity good-for-nothings, to her. They always bragged of their supposed divine descent, and their great connection to magic. Constantly, they would bug beast-kin with claims that they were below them and would demonstrate their distaste for the beast-king of old at any opportunity. 

“Found ‘em.” Enrika spat.  

... 

Petit inspected himself in the mirror. The outfit they had tailored for him was quite a treat. It fit him tightly and was luxuriously flexible. The frilled collar was a style he was unfamiliar with but didn’t dislike.  

“Like it?” The tailor asked. He was an affable fellow, a good conversationalist. Petit found the change welcome compared to the guards who had greeted him. 

“I do, thank you very much.” Petit thanked. 

The tailor gave a polite bow. “It is my honor.” 

The entire wingless fairy thing confused Petit to no end. He was very clearly not a fairy. However, at the end of the day, free stuff was free stuff, and in all fairness, he had tried to convince them otherwise. They simply hadn’t accepted his rejection of their prophecy.  

He soon found himself crossing another bridge, into the central structure of the entire city. It was the largest of the beehive-sphere things Petit had seen, and was ornately decorated with jewels and beautifully maintained plants that curled and flowered in satisfying symmetrical patterns. 

Entering the structure, the first thing he came to notice was the towering throne which sat in the center, with lurid radial patterns flowing outward from it on the floor. 

“Governor!” One of Petit’s personal guards, Irvik, called out. Apparently, the prophecy found Petit trustworthy enough that he should have personal guards. 

From a chamber to Petit’s right, a woman ran out. She looked quite disheveled, especially for someone Petit assumed to be the governor. 

“Ah!” She exasperatedly greeted. “You must be the wingless fairy king. Thank the heavens, we have been in quite a lot of trouble lately. Surely, you’re familiar with all that already, though.” Seeing Petit look at her cluelessly, she raised an eyebrow. “The fairy arch-mage! She’s been missing! You really haven’t heard?” 

Petit shrugged. 

“Is there anything about that in the prophecy?” The governor asked Irvik. He also shrugged. “Curses.” She continued. “I have been extremely busy what with the sudden lack of a leading figure, so if you could send this fellow off with an apprentice or something of the like right now that would be lovely. I simply don’t have the time for pleasantries, and if he is who he says he is then he’ll just complete the prophecy anyway.” 

“I am who I say I am! Who I say I am just isn’t who everyone else says I am!” Petit interjected, though he lost himself halfway through the sentence. 

The governor shot him a confused look. “Whatever. Just get it done, please.” She gave a quick bow, clearly one she had no emotion in but one which she was required to perform for one reason or another. Immediately afterward, she left back out of the room. 

Petit turned to Irvik. “Apprentice?” 

Irvik shrugged again. He was not a very aware individual. 

... 

“What are we gonna do?” Milly said, craning her neck up at the city above. 

“We’re gonna get Petit back.” Enrika sat on a rock, boredly drawing pictures in the dirt with a stick. 

“And how are we gonna do that?” 

“Probably gonna have to climb a tree.” Enrika groaned. She was not enthusiastic to go about climbing any trees, particularly tall ones such as the ones the pixies were hanging out on. “You got another idea.” 

Milly drew in a breath, preparing to say something. She paused for a moment, making Enrika’s anticipation mount. “Nah, I got nothin’.” Milly said flatly. 

Enrika threw her hands in the air. 

“I guess that leaves me with no other options, huh?” Enrika said. 

“Guess not. Say, while you’re up there, think you could grab me a souvenir?” Milly requested, moving towards one of the more optimal trees. She bent down into a squat, leaning against the tree, and laced her fingers together to provide a foothold.  

“I’ll see what I can do.” Enrika placed her foot into Milly’s hands.  

Enrika prepared for a strong shove but was surprised with just how strong it was. Milly launched her up, getting proper airtime, high enough that she could grab a branch higher than the one she had been aiming for. Hurriedly lifting herself up, Enrika clambered atop the limb. From there, she stood up, holding her arms around the trunk for balance, and grabbed onto another, thinner, branch. She pulled herself up it and repeated the process for another branch, each time gaining altitude. 

Her breathing grew heavier as she got higher. Enrika was not one for heights.  

The city was growing nearer, now. Summoning what courage she had, she continued upwards. 

Structures became visible. Dangling huts and branches that extended across the trees, the shimmering blue lights that Enrika had noticed before. 

Many of the pixies were noticing her. They congregated, flew into the huts, or simply flew away. 

“Hey!” She cried out. “I don’t know which one of you is in charge here, but if you don’t give me back my friend, I’ll have to do... something!” 

They didn’t answer. Some of the congregated backed up, others retreated to the huts. 

“The guy! The tiny one, you took him and I want him back!” Enrika elaborated. 

No response of any kind.  

Enrika turned around, raising her tail threateningly. “Someone talk, or I’ll gas this place to the underworld and back!” She shouted. 

“Hey!” Enrika’s ears pricked up. It was a voice she recognized.  

“Petit?” She turned around. 

“Howdy.” Petit waved. He was in some new outfit, just hanging about casually. 

“Uh, hi. I’m here to, uhm, save you from the pixies.” Enrika grew confused. 

“Aww, thanks!” Petit grinned. “Fairies, by the way. Pixies is a rude term.” A pixie, no, a fairy guard approached the shrunken man, saying something Enrika couldn’t hear. “No, that won’t be necessary, Irvik, she’s my friend.” Petit said to the guard, gesturing to Enrika. 

“What’s going on here?” Enrika glanced around, trying to get even a meagre understanding of the events that had unfolded for Petit to have enough authority to order around guards. 

“Some prophecy, apparently. I don’t know.” Petit shrugged.  

Enrika looked at him, dumbfounded.  

“I’ll be over there in a sec, I’m just waiting for something.” An awkward silence fell over the city while they waited for whatever it was they were waiting for. 

“Milly also wants a souvenir.” Enrika broke the silence. 

Petit looked to his side at the guard. “You heard her, she’s an acquaintance.” The guard flew off. 

“So, what are we waiting for?” Enrika asked. 

“Just give it a moment.” Petit answered. 

A group of fairies approached Enrika, carrying what looked to be a pan flute, composed of several bamboo shoots of descending length placed together. They placed it in her hand, though they shot her a dirty look while doing so, clearly not fond of giving gifts to someone who had threatened to stink bomb their town, especially a beast-kin.  

Enrika looked down to the base of the tree and held out the pan flute for Milly to see. Milly smiled and gave her a thumbs-up. It had a rope attached to it, which allowed Enrika to hang it conveniently over her neck, freeing her hands for her later descent to the ground. 

When Enrika looked back up, another fairy had appeared beside Petit. A woman, this time. She gave him a tight hug. 

Enrika felt a spike of jealousy, but it quickly settled. “Are we ready to go?” 

“Yes.” Petit answered. “This is Midori, she’s going to join us!” He exclaimed excitedly.

“That’s... great.” Enrika spoke through gritted teeth, wearing a pained smile.

“Alright, you can head back. Midori will help me down.”

Enrika didn’t like the idea, but what could she do? She obviously couldn’t hold him, since her hands would be occupied, and he couldn’t go on her person because he’d just fall off. Putting him in her pants flashed across her mind, but she quickly dismissed it as stupid – as much as she would have liked it.

She was a tad envious watching Petit gently float down, while she had to torturously climb and put herself in harm’s way, but that was life, she supposed.
 Yes.” Petit answered. “This is Midori, she’s going to join us!” He exclaimed excitedly. 

“That’s... great.” Enrika spoke through gritted teeth, wearing a pained smile. 

“Alright, you can head back. Midori will help me down.”  

Enrika didn’t like the idea, but what could she do? She obviously couldn’t hold him, since her hands would be occupied, and he couldn’t go on her person because he’d just fall off. Putting him in her pants flashed across her mind, but she quickly dismissed it as stupid – as much as she would have liked it. 

She was a tad envious watching Petit gently float down, while she had to torturously climb and put herself in harm’s way, but that was life, she supposed. 

“Oh, Petit! Are you okay? Thank goodness Enrika went up there to save you.” Enrika heard Milly greet, unaware of the preceding conversation. 

“Umm, yeah, thank goodness!” Petit clearly trying to help Enrika save face. 

“Alright, pixie, you can fly off now.” Millicent shooed Midori. 

“No, she’s... she’s coming with us.” Petit corrected. 

“Oh.” Milly said disappointedly. 

Enrika dismounted the tree, landing on the ground with as agile a roll as she could manage. She still hurt her leg a bit, though. Milly gave her a confused look, glancing over at Midori. Enrika merely shrugged. 

“Bye guys! Thanks for everything, I’ll defeat that great evil for ya!” Petit happily waved up at the city above, its citizens whooping and cheering. He looked back to the group. “You guys ready to go?”