The Dark Fairy King
Chapter 64: Charlatans and Martyrs

Chapter 64: Charlatans and Martyrs

From every corner of the palace—beneath the furniture, around the pillars, behind the curtains—shadows bent and stretched.

They formed shapes, echoes of people who had once walked these corridors.

Guards. Cooks. Servants. Cleaners.

A perfect, bustling diversity—all made of darkness.

If you were watching from afar, you wouldn’t know the difference. The warm yellow light pouring from the palace windows cast dancing silhouettes of people moving about.

Except... it was practically silent.

Didn’t quite figure out that part.

Until I remembered one special book.

Yes, I had a book in the library that played medieval pop music when opened.

So naturally, I used it.

Let the shadows dance to the beat.

Devran watched the illusion in awe, sharpening his blade like he was enjoying a shadow theatre show. Scarlette looked like she was proud of me.

"Shadow show!" Lumera clapped excitedly. "This is so good!"

Honestly she was not exaggerating. I outdid myself.

Now, onto the next part of the plan.

"Alright everyone, stick out your wrists," Scarlette ordered.

"Why?" Devran questioned.

"We need to blend in." Scarlette replied as she grabbed Devran’s arm first and starting imprinted a temporary tattoo on it.

"Wait...why am I first?" Devran protested but Scarlette ignored him, focussed on her work.

If Devran was part of the mages, she would have already sensed it immediately with her magic prowess.

"Done," Scarlette said proudly as she stared at Devran’s wrist.

"Oh wow, it almost looks like the real thing." Devran said admiringly.

"Did it hurt?" Lumera asked, watching Devran.

"Only if you are a pansy," Devran mocked.

But Scarlette already grabbed Lumera’s wrist.

I rolled my eyes while Lumera let out a sharp shriek.

Devran laughed.

Scarlette glared at us as she continued to imprint one on mine.

"Will I turn into blue light if I say Nathaniel?" I teased.

But Scarlette was not amused.

"Wait? Did she give us the real one?" Lumera asked.

"Nathaniel" I said impatiently.

Lumera covered her eyes.

"Nathaniel, Nathaniel." Devran continued.

"Argh...We are going to explode into blue light just like the others..." Lumera winced.

But Devran and I burst into laughter.

Lumera is so gullible.

"Guys...behave." Scarlette warned.

"See Lumera, it’s fake. They didn’t explode into blue light." Scarlette assured her, while she did the same tattoo on her own wrist.

Now all our wrists were marked with temporary tattoos of broken wands, identical to the ones worn by the Anti-Magic Mages. It looked uncanny and eerily similar from afar. It just had an extra dot at the tip of the wand. It was too small to even notice but I am guessing that is what sets it apart.

Then, after what felt like hours of rehearsing and ensuring Lumera could perfect her illusion magic, evening came.

We gathered at the edge of the kingdom’s border, dressed in black hoods, queuing to enter an ancient cathedral.

The cathedral’s exterior was built of blackened stone, weathered and cracked yet unyielding, as though defying the passage of time. Tall, narrow stained-glass windows lined its walls, their vibrant hues forming an eerie contrast against the void. Each pane depicted scenes of triumph over magic: a shattered wand, a fairy bound in chains, a dragon brought to its knees.

Massive wooden doors, dark and gnarled as though carved from the bones of an ancient tree, marked the entrance. Etched with arcane runes that pulsed faintly, they seemed to hum with ominous energy. When opened, the doors groaned under the weight of centuries, revealing a sanctuary bathed in an otherworldly glow.

"Woah," Lumera gasped in awe.

I rolled my eyes. "Our palace looks nicer than this, by the way."

Scarlette stood in the middle, already appearing as Faragonda, holding Lumera’s hand.

"Country bumpkin," Devran snorted from behind them.

"I heard that," Lumera warned, but Devran only looked away cheekily.

I stood at his side.

As we queued, Lumera shifted nervously.

"They’re going to find us out," she whispered.

"They will if you don’t shut up," Devran shot back, irritated.

"You’re one of them now. Assimilate," I ordered quietly. "This charade must not fail."

Scarlette remained silent. I watched her closely. She couldn’t afford to slip—but I’d be there to protect her if she did.

When we reached the entrance, two mages greeted us.

"Names, please," they asked flatly—until they took a second look at Scarlette.

"Sorry, Faragonda. We didn’t recognise you earlier," one said quickly, bowing his head.

"These are?" the other asked.

"Anti-Magic Mages from the palace," she replied coldly.

So far, so good. She stuck to the story.

"The council?" they pressed.

"They are with me," she answered.

"What about the King and Queen?"

Scarlette narrowed her eyes on the guards. "Are you seriously going to ask me an entire list of questions and hold up the queue?" She pointed to the line forming behind us. "Is this the same interrogation you give every palace fairy who joins the Anti-Magic Mages?"

The two mages glanced at each other, hesitating.

"Sorry, Elder Faragonda. We thought you weren’t coming tonight."

"Nonsense," she snapped. "Let me in. I was asked to bring a gift."

She raised a gloved hand, revealing the Midnight Orchid.

They stepped aside immediately.

Scarlette entered the cathedral, with Devran and me flanking her, Lumera close behind.

We were in.

But the real play was just beginning.

Inside, the cathedral was grand yet austere, its architecture evoking the solemnity of an ancient church. Towering white pillars stretched skyward, their marble surfaces streaked with veins of silver that gleamed in the flickering candlelight. The air was thick with the mingling scents of wax and ash.

But I’d say it’s too much. Probably a waste of donations from the foolish.

Sure, there were long rows of wooden benches, scarred by age and devotion, lining either side of the central aisle, leading toward a raised pulpit. Carved from dark oak and adorned with symbols of broken wands and shattered sigils, the pulpit stood as the room’s solemn focal point. Behind it, a massive stained-glass window dominated the space, its depiction of a broken wand glowing faintly, as if alive.

As the room filled, I noticed the people.

My fairy folk.

Light Fairies, Dark Fairies, Love Fairies—all bearing the same broken wand symbol on their wrists.

While my council of four were pretenders, the people sitting on those benches were not.

Who were they? The easily impressed. The radicalised. The gullible.

Did they know what they signed up for?

Would they become martyrs?

I wondered what messages were even preached from this pulpit.

Lies from charlatans are always plenty.

Light streaming through the stained glass painted the sanctuary in shifting hues of red, gold, and deep blue. Shadows crawled across the walls and ceiling with an unnatural rhythm, slithering like living things.

A faint hum reverberated through the space, emanating from the portals flickering within alcoves along the walls. Framed in white stone, their shimmering surfaces revealed glimpses of otherworldly realms. The juxtaposition of the cathedral’s ancient reverence and the celestial energy of the portals created an eerie harmony—one that spoke of both faith and power.

At the centre of it all stood a hooded figure in brown, blending seamlessly into the shadowed sanctuary.

He glanced at Scarlette, giving her a knowing nod.

Something churned in my stomach as if my gut told me that something was going to be wrong.

Just then, one of the mages approached him.

"Nathaniel, sir—the congregation is ready."

Crap. Is that Nathaniel?

Nathaniel removed his hood, revealing brown hair and hazel eyes. Was this the leader of the Anti-Magic Mages?

He looked just like anyone else you’d pass on the street. Ordinary. Unassuming.

And somehow, that made him even more dangerous.

The air hung heavy with incense and anticipation.

Then, he spoke.

"My brothers. My sisters. My kindred spirits." His piercing gaze swept over the assembly, the light from the stained glass catching the sharp angles of his face. "We are the chosen few—the harbingers of salvation. We will prevent the extinction of Fairies."

He paused, stepping down from the pulpit to pace slowly before the congregation.

As he spoke, his words made my powers wane. I noticed Scarlette and Lumera trying to focus their attention too. Devran remained unaffected. He had no magic after all.

Then, Nathaniel’s next words caught me off guard.

"But you’re not a Fairy, Nathaniel. Why do you care?"

He raised his voice into a shrill, mocking falsetto.

Without missing a beat, he deepened his voice theatrically. "Yeah, why are we even called the Anti-Magic Mages?"

His delivery was so seamless, so unnervingly confident, it was like he’d rehearsed this before.

Then—his tone dropped, razor-sharp.

"Today, you will get your answers."

What a shitshow.