The courtyard was littered with bodies, painted with blood spatters, some with wings still fluttering as the nervous systems were hit with stray spells. Many a white steed lay with mouths agape, throats wide open, while slain black wolves bled, some still with fairy limbs, or horseflesh grasped in their teeth.

The small band of remaining wolves circled the cages, held back by a single shield spell. Dark fairies ringed outside them and growled at the occupants. The king and queen stood resolute, staring above their heads at their daughter, crying beside the Dark Fairy Lord on the balcony. At least she was alive and well.

The wolves in the heat of battle had broken through the cages and gnawed on the king’s arm and the queen’s leg before they were called off. The queen teetered on her bad leg and collapsed. The wolves lunged and the shield was lifted. Her scream was deafening as they ripped her limb from limb followed by the king’s yell, as teeth met flesh.

It was all up to the Princess now.