The moon's soft rays cascaded over charred wood and rubble, glistening on tears. Cruel was war, and crueler were the fairies' military losses. Sons and daughters, fathers and mothers, died along with their king and queen.
However, behind the sadness, a soft smile tugged at the oldest ones' lips—those with wrinkles drawing deep patterns on their withered faces.
Though they couldn't complain about Oberon and Titania's peaceful rule, something was missing compared to what they had experienced before. The couple had promulgated laws and ensured the supply of basic necessities from the depths of the tree of life, never interacting with them.
If the younger saw that detachment from their citizens as regal behavior, it had annoyed the older generation. After all, they had seen the most flawed yet liveliest queen fly around the capital, blow up research facilities with strange experiments, and organised dancing contests during their youth.
