Cigarettes and Fairies

The poor old guy needs some Riko. Riko is a stone that amplifies magic by about 5 times. He needs about 20 pounds of the stuff.

Kinda feel sorry for the old guy if he's a fire Mage doesn't age add to his wisdom and skill.

Like the story so far is there anything that does anti ageing?

The tickkle purple threat made me chucckle behind my screen

Chapter six. A prank by the fairies goes horribly, hilariously wrong. Ever wonder what happens to Smokes when he doesn't have a cig?

Chapter 6: Nuclear

Lenyal had to hold her breath and strain to hold in the laughter building up. This was going to be the best prank she had ever pulled off. She waved to the other fey, motioning for them to go on with their task.

Each sprite was about a foot tall, and was carrying two packs of Gramp's cigarettes under either arm. One by one, they flitted outside by means of the window they had opened, the old man's tobacco supply literally flying out the window. Outside, another group of fairies had shrunk all the plants in the field down to the size of dandelions.

She jetted out the window last, a fist jammed in her mouth to stifle the giggles as she went around to the front door of the cabin. She would wait for him here, to get a good seat for observing him. She couldn't wait to see the look on his face when he woke up and discovered his ever-present cigarettes were gone. It was going to be hilarious!

A young male fairy, with pale hair and a paler face, buzzed up to her with a huge grin. Edrin was the youngest sprite in her pack, and an excellent prankster already. He snapped a joking salute and snickered.

"Mission complete, Miss Lenyal commander-capitan, sir! A smoke to celebrate our victory?"

He offered on of the cigarettes they had stolen, which she accepted. She stuffed it into the side of her mouth despite the fact that it was nearly as long as her forearm at her current size, then pretended to stroke an invisible beard, a faux-clever look on her face.

"Indeed. My stratagem has routed the enemy perfectly."

This line had the other fey dissolving into giggles. Lenyal then glared at them, making her voice gruff, growling about imps and puffing furiously on the unlit cigarette in an imitation of Gramps. That sent the fairies into gales of laughter, some rolling on the ground, kicking and holding their sides as they cried tears of mirth.

It was still dusky when Lenyal heard the elf get up.

"Hmn, I need a new cig. Where did I put that one pack?"

Lenyal bit her lip to hold in the laugh that bubbled up in her. She heard the sounds of rummaging around, the noise growing louder and more agitated as the seconds ticked by. She could see her packmates shaking with mirth around her.

"Not here . . . not here . . . not there!? WHERE THE HELL DID MY CIGARETTES GO! Where the . . . gah, I need a smoke NOW! I'm going to go NUCLEAR if I don't get a light! Who the fu- . . ."

Here it comes, Lenyal chuckled to herself. 3, 2, 1.

The whole cabin exploded into a billion pieces of flaming debris, a massive blast that sent a shockwave across the whole clearing.

Lenyal's eyes went wide. Okay, he was a LOT angrier than she had expected. Not only that, her predator sense had just gotten a big old beep by the amount of magic that was pulsing out of the ruined house. Gramp's power had just boosted by about ten times, and this fire was WAY hotter that anything she had seen out of him yet. The cabin had been blown to smithereens.

"DAAAAAMN FAAAAAAIRIIIIIEEEESSSS!"

Lenyal decided that being here had become a serious health hazard for anybody who happened to be flammable. Especially if they looked like a fairy and were named Lenyal.

Gramps came running out of the burning remains of the house as fast as someone his age could go, wrapped in a hurricane of fire ten feet tall and nearly as wide, and charged the knot of fey instantaneously. He didn't hesitate for a second, and he looked supremely furious. Then he shot a fireball the size of a car at the crowd of sprites and kept coming.

"Oh crap, everybody run!" Lenyal yelled.

The fairies scattered immediately, shooting away in various directions. The blazing missile spun through the spot they had just been at, scorching the ground as it went, and crashed into a tree. It went off with the force of a bomb, splashing flames everywhere and instantly torching the tree. Lenyal felt the heat of it even from this distance, and flew up and away.

A moment later she popped up out of the canopy, the others also breaching the sea of leaves. They all fluttered over to their leader, and watched as the clearing turned into a giant inferno. Gramps was whirling around in the middle of it, raging and throwing fire all over the place, swearing and snarling but unable to find the sprites.

It was lucky this was the Bulvon Wood, a wet, almost swampy area, or the whole forest could have burned down. As it was, the fire slowly died, the damp killing it as it tried to spread. Edrin looked over the immense bonfire, and blinked.

"Well, I think it's safe to say we shouldn't take Gramp's cigarettes anymore."

Lenyal nodded. A rush of wind buffeted her abruptly, a harpy swooping in to hover beside them. A giant harpy, so the fairies hurriedly grew to her size, not quite eighty feet. She gazed at the orange light shining out of the clearing with interest.

"I just heard some pretty pathetic badmouthing going on, so I flew over. There a snack down there, you midget butterflies?"

Lenyal gained a huge, impish grin. This was going to be funny.

"Yep. Be my guest if you want him."

The harpy nodded, then arrowed down into the clearing.

The fairy held up a hand, showing her snickering fellows the countdown. 3, 2, 1 . . .

"GIVE ME A GODDAMN CIG OR GET THE HELL OF MY PROPERTY, YOU DAMN IT ALL TO HELL &*^%ING PIGEON!"

A second later the harpy shot by them, going back the way she had come at full speed, feathers smoking and coughing, blonde hair crisped and a few strands of it with small fires.

"So not worth it!" she hacked, flying off and leaving a contrail of smoke behind her.

The fey had a nice laughing fit over that, and waited a few minutes more. The elf had to run out of steam sometime. Sure enough, his age caught up with him quickly, and twenty minutes after his rage session had begun they found him sitting on the ground wheezing, too tired to continue. The whole clearing had been blackened and charred, his tobacco field and cabin obliterated. He had certainly meant it when he had said he would go nuclear!

Lenyal flew up to him, and the elderly mage glared at her.

"The hell do you want, you damn thief?"

"Cigarette?" she suggested, offering the one she had somehow kept in her mouth this whole time.

He took it, then snapped his fingers. Normally a bright flame would immediately pop up at the end of his thumb, but he was so exhausted it took him half a dozen tries to get the thing lit. He pulled on it deeply, inhaling so much that nearly half the cigarette burned down to ash in one drag. A thick cloud of smoke billowed out of his beard a moment later.

"Gah, I'm going to have to build another damn house."

"We'll help you build it!" Lenyal offered brightly, giving a double thumbs-up and smiling.

"HELL NO!"


Gramps has a hardcore addiction to cigarettes, and goes into a nicotine-deprived fury if he doesn't get a light for a while. He gets quite a bit stronger magic-wise during the short time he is enraged, but he gets tired pretty easily.

Felarya is Karbo's

The Bulvon Wood is credited to Zoekin AKA Zoekin-3

Named characters are mine unless otherwise stated

Something tells me, something is going to break. Be it him or a fairy

Aw, poor Gramps. He'd better watch his heart, at his age.

Still, nice of Lenyal to offer to fix the mess she caused.

DAAAAAMMNNNN! He reminds me of my two psycos when any of them get angry. Talk about an "explosive" temper.

Another chapter. A pair of new folks appear. No vore, but references to it.

Chapter 7: Confrontations of Character

Smokes snapped awake at the sound of a girl screaming.

He had dozed off in his chair, keeping watched on his brand-new, just-sprouting tobacco plants lest the fairies mess with them. It had been nearly a month since his house had been blown to bits, and it had taken him nearly that long to rebuild it. In the end, he had been forced to let the fey help him, the sprites growing to giant size to aid in the construction. Despite his instructions to make it just as it had been before, they had royally screwed it over.

He had called it an abomination. Lenyal and her impromptu construction crew had called it "epicly awesome to the infinity power". Now it looked like a badly done replica of a haunted house, a rickety two-story thing that leaned sideways menacingly, no windows but a skewed door. It was practically an accident waiting to happen, but if you didn't have shelter out here, you were in deep trouble. Now his home had two rooms, a living area on the first floor and a loft-bedroom on the second.

He pushed up out of his creaky chair, now thoroughly irritated. Those damn imps just couldn't shut up for even ten sec-

There was a girl standing in the clearing, about six meters from his front porch. A small, young girl, probably no more than twelve, she had short red ponytail, a line of crimson that went just past her shoulders. She was wearing a straw sun-hat, khaki shorts, brown boots with knee-socks, and a khaki shirt. He couldn't tell the color of her eyes, though, because they were closed. Mainly because she was sobbing uncontrollably and swinging a little butterfly net around in a frenzy.

The whole tribe of fairies was swirling in a buzzing cloud around her, laughing and taunting as they darted close to her and backed up again, clearly having fun teasing her. The girl was completely distraught, and completely at their mercy. She knew it, and they knew it.

"Hahaha, what's the matter? Scared? Well, just wait until it gets exciting!" one fairy snickered.

"P-please stop! I j-j-just want to catch one of you! I-It won't hurt, I swear! P-please don't resist!" the girl squeaked, barely able to speak properly through her tears.

"Ha, fairy hunters are so dumb! She doesn't even know what's going to happen to her!"

"Oooh, so sweet and innocent! I bet she'll be super-yummy! I call dibs!"

"No way, you got the LAST one, Syln!"

"Uh-uh, that was Sarch that got the last fairy hunter!"

"P-please s-stop resisting!" the young catcher yelped, raising a hand, palm outward.

She suddenly fired off what looked like an electric-blue net of energy from her fingers, starting at the size of a small spiderweb but rapidly expanding as it continued on through the air. It wasn't all that fast, no quicker than a lightly tossed baseball, but the proximity made up for it. One sprite held up a hand, about to bounce the spell away.

"Oh look, the baby knows magic, hehehe!"

Her eyes widened, though, when her counter-spell's mana was sucked up into the net, the thing absorbing the magic like a sponge and growing even bigger with the added energy. The sprites squealed as the magic-formed net hit several of them at once and immediately wrapped them up, making the group caught fall to the ground, bound and their magic being rapidly drained away.

The other fey were at first incredulous, but that disbelief was replaced by anger a moment later. The swirling cloud of some fifteen fairies that were left became a thunderstorm rather than a cheery nimbus, the flitting motions turning harsher and faster.

"She netted some of us! She caught fairies, tied them up! Let's get her!" several cried out.

Lenyal was in agreement.

"You're in deeeeep trouble, you fairy enslaver!" she snapped.

Smokes started forward, intent on breaking this up before it got ugly. The girl certainly deserved to get eaten, doing something as stupid as hunting fairies, but a fight between a magic-user and a pack of fey could cause some serious collateral damage. He didn't want to lose his home and field AGAIN, especially after just finishing it. Hell, he had been forced to open up his cellar, the only part of his house spared from his rage session, to have enough tobacco to last until he grew it all back.

"Alright, that's enoug-!"

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a trumpet started playing a fast, free-form jazz tune. It was hard to tell where it was coming from, somewhere in the trees, and coming closer. It began at a rapid pace, and from there only got faster, notes all over the place but mostly high-pitched. Everyone stopped to listen, looks of confusion all around. The only different visage was the girl's; she had relief written all over her face.

A man, rather tall and in a smart black suit and tie, dark hair slicked back, walked into the clearing. He could have come straight out of an upscale cocktail bar's jazz band. He had a trumpet at his lips, cheeks puffed out and face red as he played furiously. His fingers were going at a million miles an hour, digits a blur as the pace of the song increased to a fever pitch. His eyes were shut tightly, hiding their color, as he continued to blow on his trumpet.

After nearly a minute of playing, the motion of his fingers stopped, the farthest-forward valve pressed down, no more notes coming forth. The musician then took the horn down from his lips and spoke, face turning back to its normal peach from nearly cherry, eyes opening to reveal irises the color of a walnut.

"Whoo, hard to play enough notes for twenty fairies in such a short time. Had to speed it up so none of you ate up my 'pprentice there. Can you back up from her a little, yeah?" he requested, voice pleasant, if a bit out of breath.

"No way!" snapped all the fey at once.

He shrugged, raising the trumpet again, that one valve still held down. Just before he put it against his lips, he gave them one sentence.

"Suit yourselves."

Then he blew a final note, bell aimed at the swarm of pixies.

A massive cone of crackling orange light exploded from the mouth of the horn, some thirty feet long and close to the same in diameter at the end of the blast. It was unbelivably loud, an explosion of sound like a rocket taking off. It engulfed the whole pack of fey, knocking them all out of the air with the sonic wave. The sparking energy blast faded after a second, leaving a smattering of stunned fairies on the ground.

"Heh, you wouldn't believe how hard it is to work up enough energy to do that. Hard as all get out, let me tell you. Take me all day doing that to even PHASE a giant, lucky for me you all were small. Whoo boy, that was tiring." he exclaimed, wiping a bit of sweat from his forehead.

Lenyal was the first to rise, head spinning and dizzy, stumbling back and forth as she tried to keep her feet and point at the man accusingly.

"You . . . Wat? Can't see . . . straight . . . blargh." she groaned, sitting down hard as she lost her balance again.

"Oh yeah, that blast knocked all the magic outta this area, so you can't do anything for a few minutes. Get your wings clipped and seared, you'll be ready to go to the highest bidder. Now, Illyn, you've got to remember not to wa-"

The apprentice ran over and grabbed onto her master's middle, crying all over his suit and apologizing repeatedly.

"Oh, Yell, I was so scared! I tried to catch one, but she flew away before I could net her, and then I chased her all the way out here to this cabin, and the other fairies came after me, and I panicked even though you told me I never should panic, and-"

Smokes, who had before been standing and staring at this madness, finally regained his tongue.

"Who the hell are you people?"

The two looked started, as if just noticing his presence at his words. The musician was the one to speak.

"Well, didn't expect somebody to be living in that monstrosity of a house there, beg your pardon for insulting your home. My name is Yelleckamachi Evetts, 'Yell' for short. Professional fairy hunter. This is my 'pprentice, Illyn Drathe, cadet fairy hunter. Pleased to meet you."



End of chapter seven. Yell got lucky that the fairies were already off-guard and doll-sized. It takes him a while to build up all that energy.

Felarya is Karbo's

Named characters are mine unless otherwise stated.

Now that... is interesting. Sounds potentially disastrous.

Hell yeah the jazz man testifies and the world license.

Most interesting what on earth is going to happen next crazy world

Thanks for the comments. :: Finally got around to typing up the new chapter for this story. Minor refrence to vore but nothing else.

Chapter 8

Fairy, Fairy Dangerous: Part 1

Smokes raised one bushy, ash-grey eyebrow.

Fairy hunters? He knew there were folk that caught fairies for a living, but he had never expected to see one all the way out here. As far as he knew, they went around in the Forest of Whispers and similar areas, trying to get rich, and mostly not getting rich but rather eaten.

The trade in fey wasn’t very big, not in Felarya, anyway. “ like a cage full of fairies” was a saying in Negav, meaning “Goddamn rare”. The fey were, in general, decent spellcasters, able to shrink and grow as they liked, capable of flight, intelligent, unpredictable, and organized. And, like most things in Felarya, they had no problem eating a sapient creature (including humans) alive. Not exactly the easiest of things to catch, to be sure. Being a fairy hunter, as such, was by and large seen as one of the most idiotic occupations capable of being had in Felarya.

“Are you two brain-dead? Catching fairies? That’s like offering to be a dentist to a naga. Suicide, that’s what it is.” the elf affirmed.

Yell, leaning over, picked up a sprite with plum-shaded skin and very short antennae. She was only a few inches tall and dizzy from the earlier blast, but she still tried to squeeze out of his hand and punched at his fingers.

“Not at all. Well, it’s fairly hazardous, but if you know how to go about it, it’s lucrative.” he responded, examining her brightly hued wings.

He reached into the shirt pocket of his tuxedo and removed a set of small scissors, spinning the instrument with a practiced motion before opening them. Then, very swiftly and very easily, he snipped a tiny portion off of each of the fairy’s wings. She squealed with pain as the two bits fluttered to the ground, glinting purple and blue as the sun caught on the iridescence.

Illyn watched, with a look of fascination, as he went to each fairy, clipped their wings one at a time, and put them back down. There was little resistance, the fey too disoriented and small to fight, unable to counter-attack with magic since it had been blasted out of the area and hadn’t yet refilled the empty hole left behind. In a minute they all had been handled in this manner.

* * * * *

Lenyal knew she had to do something, but she didn’t know what, precisely, she should do.

Her entire pack had been incapacitated, wings clipped, and now they were in trouble. The twenty fairies were stuck at sizes ranging between three and seven inches tall, utterly helpless and now with no chances of fighting back with their wings damaged. She fluttered a little, and a buzz of pain rolled down the clear membrane of the members, pulsing from where the small section of her wings had been snipped off.

Here, with the rapid pace of healing due to Felarya’s soil, the wounds would be gone within a day or two. Until then, though, the fey were no more dangerous than tinies. What was more, Lenyal didn’t like the sound of the word that musician fairy hunter had mentioned, “cauterization”. The fairy didn’t know what that meant, but she could guess that it would probably hurt a lot.

It was her fault, too. She was the one in charge of the pack, the one that was supposed to keep everybody safe and deal with these kinds of situations. She had been the one to suggest assaulting the junior fairy hunter, and she hadn’t been smart enough to pull back when the teacher had appeared. Now they were going to be sold as pets to whichever snacks had the most money. The idea scared her, but also made her angry.

Mostly recovered from the dizziness that had accompanied the trumpet blast, she got up from her seated position. Her pack hurriedly and nervously gathered around her in a tight huddle, looking up at their captor with a mix of fury and fear. They couldn’t fight back, and running would get them nowhere with their size as it was, so there was only one option left. With her packmates behind her, she shouted up at the man.

“Hey, you! You can’t put us in cages, we’re fairies. Catching us is . . . um, bad luck! How many fairy hunters do you see running around? Not many, I bet. It’s because catching a fairy makes you get hit by a terrible curse!” she tried.

A lie, and an obvious one. Lenyal was no good at lying. Her face tended to give away every thought, and she was a prime example of the saying “to wear your heart on your sleeve”. She strained to keep her face straight and not blow it by showing the lie in her expression. Even with the effort, her bluff fell flat.

“Bad luck? That’s a new one. If you’re going to lie, then at least make sure you can make it believable.”

“I swear, if you try to put us in cages and sell us, I’ll eat you! I’m more dangerous than a feyweed field, mister, just try me! Go ahead! MAKE MY DAY!” she shrieked, putting on the toughest face she could manage and taking a gunfighter’s stance.

Somewhere off to her left, she heard Gramps sigh, the breath followed closely by the distinct sound of a hand slapping against a face.

The fairy hunter was similarly unimpressed by her threatening.

“You, apparently, are far too stupid to realize how these situations run. I’ll just run it by you again. I wait until my target is vunerable. I incapacitate my target sprite and clip the wings. I sear the wounds closed so they can never heal and allow the fairy the ability to change size or use magic any stronger than levitating a pea. I cage and then sell the fairy to whomever makes me the best offer.”

“You can’t do this!” one sprite squeaked from the back of the group.

“I’m sure a lot of people have said that to you while you were eating them.”

“HEY, you’re argument is with ME! I’m the boss of this pack, and I’m telling you to back off before I . . . do something!”

"Sorry. I wasn’t sure who was in charge.” the human responded pleasantly.

“Me. I’m in charge, and don’t forget it!” Lenyal barked with all the bravado she could muster.

“I won’t, certainly not with that loud a voice. Or that attitude. You think you can scare me? I’ve done a lot of fairy hunting, in a lot of different places, and you’re not even a quarter as frightening as some of the fey I’ve run up against.”

“Well, I-“

Lenyal turned her head sharply as the cadet spoke up. The girl’s tone was heated.

“Yell has been all over the different worlds that have fairies, and he’s never lost to one, ever!”

The musician nodded at her defense of him.

“I’ve seen and caught some pretty mean sprites. Magma sprites in Everxa, Briarbush fairies in Sevari, managed to get a pretty vicious little Shredder sprite in Devus, and plenty of others. I haven’t caught any Felaryan fairies yet, but from what I’ve seen they’re not so tough. They’re probably in the top ten most dangerous, but they’re not the baddest of the bad.”

“We can grow giant and shrink things! We eat humans like you for breakfast, what the heck! Top ten?! I demand top five, no, top ONE!”

“You guy’s barely make number eight. Have you ever seen an Elder Fey before? I met one in Alteana. Those fey make Felaryan fairies look like wimps. They make number one. I’d never tangle with one of the Elder Fey. Now, let’s get those wings cauterized, huh.”

He scooped Lenyal up off the ground, the fairy giving one last attempt in the realms of defiance by biting his hand as hard as she could manage. The others, rather than running or any such action, actually ATTACKED the man. Lenyal was rather moved, even though the blows sent against Yell’s feet did absolutely nothing.

The man, ignoring the sprites pummeling his polished spats, brought a silver lighter, of the capped variety, from out of his pocket. With an easy flick of the wrist, he had it open and a bright flame flickering to life. Tightening his grip on Lenyal, he tilted her so that the injured portions of her wings were right above the flame.

She shut her eyes. She was about to lose what every fairy valued immensely. She would never be able to be free again. No magic, no size changing, no anything. She probably wouldn’t even be able to fly for months or maybe years, until she could teach herself how to move her wings in a new way.

Goodbye, wings, she thought, bracing herself for the pain.

Goodbye, freedom.



Part 1 of the chapter. Critiques and comments are welcome and appreciated.

Felarya is Karbo's

Feyweed is credited to Zoekin-3

Named characters are mine unless otherwise stated

Well, I don't see how the fairies are getting out of this one. Good riddance. Well, they aren't, that is unless you pull a deus ex machina out of somewhere, which WOULD surprise me considering the level of your stories up until now. On another note, Yell's so damn awesome. Oh and, there were a few mistakes, which I found rather weird, since you've never made spelling mistakes before (not any I know of at least)! Well, looking forward to Yell selling them. Or whatever else you have in mind for the next chapter and that is hopefully not too cheesy.

Ok this is just me gessing but from what i read i think smokes is going to save the faeries for all his bluster hewould miss them pluse if there gone other more agresive or teartorile preds might take there place. To coin a frase "The pest you know is better then the treat you don't." So yeah im calling it now smokey saves the faeries.

ouch this is looking pretty grim for the pack ^^;
I'm curious how you plan to continue this

Second part of Chapter Eight. No vore at all, besides a tiny reference. Feel free to critique, ect.

Chapter 8: Part 2

“Excuse me.”

Yell turned at the elderly man’s interruption. The musician could see something brewing behind the elf’s half-lidded lavender eyes, but he couldn’t tell what it was. Best to deal with whatever this strange hermit’s thoughts were before proceeding. Fairy hunting was an unforgiving job, and ignoring the small things could result in death.

“Yes?”

“About the fairies.”

So that was it. He was just worried about the danger the sprites presented. Understandable. Yell took the time to give the elf a once-over. Bald, mid-sixties by looks but probably older as this was Felarya, a bristly beard that hid the lower half of his face, a large, hooked nose that had been broken at least once, and heavy-lidded eyes.

What a senior was doing all the way out in the Bulvon wood by himself, living in a rickety house and growing tobacco, the fairy hunter had no idea. Perhaps he was an inadvertent visitor, pulled through a warp, and had somehow survived to settle here. Maybe he was a retired adventurer, one that couldn’t stay away from the jungle even though he had gotten old off-world. Maybe he was just senile.

In any case, it would be best to reassure him, and then get back to the business at hand.

“Oh, no need to worry about them. They won’t be harming anyone again. I’m sure once I get them onto the market they’ll be bought up quickly. No more eating people up for these guys.” the hunter confirmed, patting the older man on his narrow shoulder.

The elf brushed the younger man’s hand away.

Lenyal, still caught in the musician’s fist, felt her heart soar.

“I wasn’t talking about that.”

The action and statement following it sent a great big red flag up in Yell’s head. His eyes narrowed. A fairy rights activist, possibly. Yell had met a few before, none in Felarya, and they didn’t appreciate his services.

“If you’re going to tell me to let the fairies go, you are going to be disappointed. I catch them, so they’re mine. Sorry.” he finished, keeping his tone civil, not wanting to get into an argument.

“Screw you.”

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t care what you do to those nasty bugs-“

At this, Lenyal gave a shocked, dismayed yell of “GRAMPS!” She had become elated when the old elf had spoken up, thinking he would help them. Thinking that, despite his constant complaints and gruffness, he liked them enough to vouch for them.

“-but go do it somewhere else.”

“Sir, I really need to get these sprites’ wings cauterized RIGHT AWAY. Not doing so will allow them time to heal, and that could put myself and my ‘pprentice in danger. ‘Do it now, or die later’. Basic rule in Felarya.”

“I don’t give damn. Shove off. NOW.”

Illyn, though shy, spoke up at the harsh words against her mentor.

“Hey, you shouldn’t talk to Yell like that. He’s only trying to do his job.”

“Shut it, girl.” was the response.

Yell intervened instantly at that, a hard edge to his voice. This stubborn, abrasive elf could insult him all he wanted, but the fairy hunter wouldn’t tolerate any attacks against his pupil.

“Oi, your argument is with me. No need to snap at my ‘pprentice. Now, I’m telling you I need to caute-“

“And I’m telling YOU to get off my property right now. Take the fairies, don’t, I don’t care, but GO AWAY.”

“You’re being unreasonable, sir.”

“Unreasonable? I’ll tell you what the hell’s unreasonable. I’ll give you a goddamn list. ONE: I build myself a nice cabin, start a tobacco field, feel great. TWO: A whole #$%^ing SWARM of fairies decide to camp out in my backyard and pester me, day in and day out! THREE: My cigs get stolen, and I blow up my cabin, have to start all over! FOUR: Fairy hunters show up at my front door and start a fight with the imps! Beg your pardon if that makes me a little bit UNREASONABLE!” the elf snarled, ticking off the points on his fingers, voice rising and becoming angrier with each listing.

“Sir-“

“All I ever wanted to do was sit on my front porch, watch my tobacco grow, and smoke. But it seems like that’s not going to happen, because people keep showing up IN THE MIDDLE OF DAMN NOWHERE for no apparent reason but to annoy me! Why the hell can no one understand I want to be LEFT THE HELL ALONE!”

“I’ll leave as soon as I get these fairies’ wings cauterized.”

A vein was pulsing at the elf’s temple, his ashen complexion darkening to maroon. He went right up to Yell, straightening his age-curved spine as he did so. The elderly man actually was the same height as Yell, an even six feet, now that he had stopped slouching. The snarky senior shoved his face right into the musician’s own, maneuvering his cigarette to the side. The elf’s aura of tobacco smoke made the fairy hunter wrinkle his nose.

“You don’t seem to understand me very well. I’ll make it simple. In the words of many an angry old man, GET OFF MY LAWN!”

Yell was through being polite. This elf just wouldn’t listen to reason.

“No.”

The tip of the cigarette glowed so brightly Yell thought it was going to spontaneously combust right then and there. The elf was puffing on it so hard he sounded like a steam engine starting up.

“Then we’re going to have a problem.”

“Don’t try to threaten me. As I told the fairy, I’ve dealt with people and things much tougher than you.”

“Funny, I could say the same. Five years ago I was wiping snot-nosed brats like you off my boots. I’m going back into my house, I’m going to shut the door, I’m going to count to thirty, and I’m going to open the door again. If ANYBODY is still on my property, I’ll kill ‘em. Including you, you jazz band reject.”

With that, the elf went into his house, slamming the door behind him with so much force the thing became even more cock-eyed than before.

“Illyn.”

“Yes?”

“Put the fairies into the big jar inside your knapsack. I’m going to deal with this idiot.”

The cadet fairy hunter immediately opened up the large brown knapsack hanging at her side, withdrawing a jar nearly large enough to be called a bucket. She quickly unscrewed the lid and began placing the fairies into it. They struggled, a few attempting to run, but she caught each one and placed them into the container. She was exceedingly gentle with each one, apologizing as she put the lid back on after Yell had put the one he had picked up in there.

“Are you really going to fight him? We could just run and we wouldn’t have to fight. We can always make them safe later.” she suggested tentatively.

Her tutor pulled his jacket off and handed it to her.

“It’s a matter of principle, Illyn. I tried to talk to him and he wouldn’t listen. I’ve never been shoved around by anybody. EVER. Not fairies, not people. You let people push you around and they’ll never stop pushing. You just go a little ways into the trees and wait for me. I’ll be back in a tick.”

“Okay.” she agreed, hurrying off into the swampy forest at the edge of the clearing.

* * * * *

Smokes tramped up the stairs, the wood cracking and groaning at each stomp, and went into the bedroom. Why could he not get one SINGLE break around here? Well, now he had hit the limit of his patience for this nonsense, and enough was enough. Invade his neck of the woods, would they? Fairies, fairy hunters, screw ‘em all.

He reached around under his bed until he caught ahold of something and yanked it out. A large black case, he turned the combination lock –be damned if any imps got into THIS thing- and opened the steel container.

He ran a raw-boned, time-withered hand over the metal, feeling the smooth chill of it. Nostalgia hit him in a slow wave. How long had it been since he had used this? Held it? How long had it been since he had fought, not just haphazard swings at the fairies but REAL combat?

It seemed like it had been an eternity ago.

He lifted the weapon from the foam interior of the case, reveled in the familiar weight of it. This was what he had been made for. The Crowdbuster medals still in the case attested to that. Those old silver badges. Each meaning he had killed fifty men in one battle. Just for the hell of it, he pinned them on his shirt. Then he brought a pack of cigarettes he had bought in Negav out, lit one, and put it between his lips, dropping the old one and grinding it out under his heel.

He was going to burn all of them, just like when he had been called that other nickname of his. Wrath.

* * * * *

Illyn had only just taken a seat on a mossy root when a tapping noise drew her attention to the jar she had placed on her lap. The glass container was large enough that she could only just get her arms around it, but with twenty fairies inside the sprites were looking distinctly uncomfortable. The one making the noise happened to be the fairy that Yell had been holding.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Do you need something?” she asked.

The fairy said something, but the glass was soundproof, and the only thing that reached the girl was the sight of the sprite rapidly opening and closing her mouth, speaking in silence.

“I can’t hear you.” the cadet responded, indicating so by pointing at her ears.

* * * * *

The inside of the jar was far less quiet.

“Get your elbow out of my face!”

“YEOWCH! That’s my wing!”

“My foot! Ow, those are my toes!”

“Get your hands off my butt!”

“That’s not my hands, you’re sitting on my head!”

“Help, I’m getting clobstrophibic!”

“CLAUSTROPHOBIC, moron!”

Lanyal, squashed up against the side of the jar, put both hands against the glass, and heaved herself backwards. Drawing protests the whole way, she squeezed her way into the middle in a manner more like swimming that anything else.

“Okay, everybody SHUT UP!” she bellowed.

Everybody did so.

“I’m going to get us out of here.”

“How? We can’t do anything with our wings all messed up.”

“I’ll use IT.”

The jar went absolutely silent.

* * * * *

Yell jerked his head to one side, vertebrae popping, and waited for the old elf to reemerge.

“I have fairies to deal with, so skip the counting and come out.”

As if on cue, the door was kicked open, and Smokes came out.

Holding an assault rifle.

Yell reacted instantly, trumpet coming up to his lips in a split-second blur of motion, and he began to play as fast as he could. He was just barely quick enough, a hail of bullets shattering against the wall of sound he had put up. He hadn’t had the time to fully protect himself, however, and a few made it through to graze his hip, arm and shoulder.

He definitely felt them, but now he was completely concentrated on his music, matching notes with bullets to keep himself safe. His fingers vanished into a haze of pink, moving on the valves far too fast to be seen properly, as his face slowly turned from peach to brick-red.

“Gonna run outta air sooner or later, pup! Sooner or later!” the elf roared, keeping a steady rate of fire to keep the musician from taking a breath and recovering.

Yell’s mind was working furiously. He had to get in a breath soon, but if he stopped playing for more than a quarter-second he would be riddled with bullets in a moment. It was taking all he had to just keep the projectiles from reaching him; he had no opportunity to retaliate.

The elf did not, actually, have the upper hand, now that the musician thought about it. When bullets hit his sonic wall, they shattered, and though it took tremendous effort to keep up his sound-shield, he was as safe behind it as if he were behind a wall of concrete. The elderly man had to run out of bullets, as well. He had a special belt-fed set up, most likely a custom model from an off-world source, maybe his homeland, but that belt was rapidly getting shorter.

The gunner, as well, had his own problems. He seemed to be fairly steady, but that rapid-fire, repeated impact of the rifle but hitting his shoulder was bound to hurt. Age, too, had to be telling on him. It was anyone’s guess whether he or the gun would give out first.

Yell had been playing for most of his life, lung capacity increased over the years, but he was beginning to run out of air. The belt had been reduced to only a foot long, but he wasn’t sure he could keep this up much longer.

He managed it, and after a few seconds the fairy hunter was rewarded with a series of clicks from the weapon.

Immediately he stopped playing, and took a deep breath of wonderful oxygen.

“Alright, you’re out of ammo.” he confirmed.

“Not out of magic.”

The elf’s hands became enveloped in fire as flames popped to life on his arms. The old man put his gun down, spat out the tip of his last cigarette, and crushed it. He replaced the smoke with another and lit it with the crimson flames writhing from his fingers.

Yell raised his instrument again.

* * * * *

“We can’t use IT on a little girl, not even a fairy hunter! That’s horrible!” Syln, the sort-of-second-in-command protested.

“Oh, so you want to get your wings burned and then sold to a neko to eat, huh?” asked Lenyal.

Syln looked bemused at this, and quieted.

“Anybody else have something to say?”

Her question was greeted by silence.

“Then help me get up to one of those air-holes so I can use IT.”

The sprites, though reluctantly, wriggled into better positions and aided their leader in scrambling up to the top of the jar. Once there, Lenyal put her mouth up to the small air-hole and yelled out of it.

“Hey, could you unscrew the lid of this jar and let us out? It’s really cramped in here!”

The cadet hunter jumped at her shout, then looked down at the fairy.

“I’m sorry if it’s uncomfortable, but Yell told me to put you all in there. I’m sure he’ll be back in a second. He’s never lost to anybody.”

“Look, It’s REALLY not fun in here. It’s cramped and hard to breathe and nobody can move around. PLEASE let us out.”

The girl’s confidence wavered. She had grown up wanting to catch fairies, but she didn’t want to cause them any harm. They were small and delicate and really amazing, very much like butterflies, and the thought of hurting them made her heart clench up.

“I-I can’t. I’m sorry. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but I can’t let you out until Yell makes you safe. He says fairies will hurt people unless they get their wings clipped and sealed. It’ll only hurt for a little bit, and you need it, like a shot. Sorry.” she apologized.

“You want to take away our wings? It doesn’t just hurt, it’s like torture! If you could fly, and do magic, and somebody took that away from you, how would you feel?”

Illyn winced. She had some talent in the arcane, the capability to make mana-nets that soaked up magic. Though it was a minor ability, she didn’t know what she would do without it. Having that taken away would be awful. That really WAS like torture.

“Terrible.” she admitted, squirming with emotional discomfort at her own words.

And you’re just going to let us get our freedom taken. We’ll never be able to fly or use magic again. Never, ever, ever, ever, EVER. Do you want that?”

“No! I just wanted to catch a few of you, not make you miserable.”

“Then let us out. Let us free.”

* * * * *

Yell strafed across the clearing, running but still blasting out a brassy tune from his trumpet. Bright orange orbs of sonic energy came flying out of the instrument’s bell, zipping toward the elf like a rain of tiny glowing pumpkins. The fire mage responded with waves of flame, swinging his arms in wide arcs, leaping down from his porch and ducking as the balls of sound exploded against his house.

Though each individual orb was no more powerful than a firecracker, the barrage left dozens of splintered indentions in the wood. Smokes copied the attack in his own way, winding up with a volleyball-sized sphere of fire and hurling it at the musician. The projectile burst in midair, scattering into a handful of smaller fireballs; though he was weaker, the elf had not lost his grasp of technique.

The fairy hunter had to run; his sonic wall could halt only solid objects, but temperature would transfer through the barrier. No fire, but he’d still get burned by the blast of heat. He blared out a fast solo, sending a wave of notes at his opponent, and rolled behind a tree to get out of the line of fire.

It was then that he noticed some of the undergrowth had caught fire. It probably wouldn’t spread far, with the inherent dampness of the Bulvon Wood, but it certainly presented that danger. And his apprentice wasn’t far off.

“Stop it, you’re going to burn the whole forest down!” he shouted.

Flames bifurcated around his cover, the bark and moss blackening as the fire forked in different directions. The heat of it set fire to Yell’s shirt-sleeve. He hurriedly slapped the flames out, leaving a blackened hole in the white of his dress-shirt.

“Who gives a damn if it all burns to the ground!? I’ll incinerate anyone who messes with me. Leave me alone, all of you! Fairies, people, goddamn carnivorous plants, I don’t care who the hell you are, get off my damn property and leave me alone!”

Yell put his trumpet to his lips. This had gone on long enough. He had a job to do, and he didn’t have time to deal with an enraged hermit. He started to play, note after note, gaining speed as he went. It was different than the music he had played to incapacitate the fairies, stronger and more structured. He kept playing for nearly a minute, ignoring the increasing heat of the flames blasting against his tree as the elf approached. Finally, the song done, he held the foremost valve down and darted out from behind his cover.

The elf raised his arms, about to send out a massive inferno, but the musician was faster on the draw. One last note came out, all the sonic energy of the song behind it. The force literally knocked the elf off his feet, the wave of sound throwing him into the air like a ragdoll. He performed half an involuntary backflip, landing with a heavy thud and a hideously loud crack.

“Like I said, tougher people and things than you.”

* * * * *

Illyn was waiting for her mentor patiently when he returned, smelling of smoke, face and hands darkened with ash, and a hole burned in his shirtsleeve. He had three bullet wounds as well, but they were no more than nicks, barely even bleeding.

She immediately stood up, frightened by his state.

“I’m alright, no need to worry. Just superficial, reall- . . . Illyn, where are the fairies?”

Indeed, the jar in the apprentice’s arms was empty, not a single sprite to be seen.

“I . . . I let them out. I’m sorry, Yell, but I couldn’t let them be hurt.”

The senior fairy hunter took a deep breath, let it out very slowly, and finally just put a hand on his pupil’s shoulder.

“It’s alright. I should have known better than to let you alone with them.”

“I’m so sorr-!”

“Don’t worry about it. It wasn’t your fault. I know better than anybody how convincing fairies can be. Mistakes are bound to happen. Just remember this: Do not trust a fairy. EVER. I dealt with the elf. Let’s go back to Ur-Sagol.”

“Okay. I’m really sorry.”

“No worries. Always another day.”



There we are, the final chapter of Cigarettes and Fairies done. May continue on this with stories about the two fairy hunters. Fortunately for the pack, Illyn is inexperienced in the realm of fairy hunting.

Felarya is Karbo’s

Credit is due to Zoekin-3 for the Bulvon Wood

Named characters are mine unless otherwise stated.

Real tension in this one. You got me worried for more or less everyone. Except Smokes; I simply assumed nothing could really happen to him. :p

Poor Lenyal, though, with her dashed hopes. I suppose she definitely was expecting too much there.

I was saprised how it ended i really didnt see this ending coming

Epilogue for the last chapter. No vore.

Cigarettes and Fairies: Epilogue

Smokes always knew he had been headed for the place he was now.

It was hot down here, so many kinds of hot. He had thought that he had known “hot”, having burned innumerable buildings, vehicles, and soldiers back in the war, but he hadn’t known “hot”, not even close. It was the sweaty, humid hot of body heat filling limited space. It was the overbearing, stuffy hot of a mine, being deep in the earth. It was the familiar hot of fire. It was the excruciating, bone-melting hot of magma.

He was in a cave, a gigantic cave, the cavern big enough to contain a dozen skyscrapers. Flames were arcing along the walls and ceiling like lightning, casting an infernal glow over the whole pit, fire slithering around as if it were alive. A massive crowd of people filled the place, overseen by hulking demons.

Hell. He was in hell.

“Dammit.”

A demon standing nearby jabbed its heavy spear into his arm. The elf shrieked, pain shooting from his wrist clear up to his armpit, a shockwave of agony. He flung himself at the brute, just because he had reached the end of his rope. He was already dead. Why the hell not?

More monstrosities surrounded him, holding him down and shouting in surprisingly high voices.

“Hold him still! Ow! Stop fighting, Gramps!”

What the fu-!?

And he woke up.

He was in bed, surrounded by fairies, arm in a makeshift splint. There was that idiot sprite again, the one called Lenyal, grinning like a moron. What the hell was going on, why wasn’t he dead? He had heard his own neck snap, then blackness . . . What the HELL was going on?

“Well, hello, Gramps! Feelin’ awesome?” the fairy pack-leader asked cheerily.

Maybe this was hell? It was certainly confusing and annoying enough.

“What happened? Am I dead?”

“Nooooope. Your shoulder is broken, but you’re alive.”

“You did this? How? Why the hell aren’t you pests in some collector’s canary cage?”

“ I used IT on that girl, and she let us go. Syln still won’t talk to me, after using THE GUILT TRIP on a kid. Anyways, we just found you in bed, arm wrapped up, plus this note. Here.”

He reached for the paper, hissed with pain, then used the other arm to snatch the note from out of the fairies grubby little paws.

“Dear Hermit-person,

Apologies for the rough treatment, but you wouldn’t stop fighting. Your arm is fractured, and I think you got a concussion, but you will be fine. I found your military medals. Very impressive. I’m sure you will be able to nurse yourself back to health with that kind of record. Apologies, but I have some fairy wings to seal.

Yours,
Yelleckamachi Evetts”

Smokes roared up at the ceiling with all the violence he could manage.

“I don’t need your damn sympathy, you grassroots trumpet-playing bastard! You hear me!? SCREW YOU!”

Lenyal jokingly made cooing noises and patted his bald head.

“There, there, you poor old elfie. The nasty fairy hunter is gone, you just rest up. Your arm’s broken. I checked by poking it a minute ago.”

“Get the hell off of me! You don’t take anything seriously, you warped little imp! We got our backsides handed to us by a brat with a butterfly net and a damn MUSICIAN, and all you want to do is joke! Buzz off. All of you, GET OUT!”

The other fairies hurriedly shrank and zipped down the stairs to fly out the open door, but Lenyal hovered at the landing, a massive smile on her face. When the elf snapped “What the hell you want?”, her expression turned into a bright, excited laugh.

“You said, ‘we’. Not ‘I’. Does that mean we’re packmates now?”

The fairy had to duck to avoid the clay bowl that was flung at her. It shattered somewhere farther down the stairway. That was all the answer she needed. Laughing, she shot out the door with the old man’s shout on her heels.

“HELL NO!”



Surprised? I did say this was a comedy piece. Comment as you like.

Felarya is Karbo’s

Named characters are mine unless otherwise stated.

LOL i think you should keep it going maybe have like a long lost dauter come looking for him or somthing eals funny . Also i could see this redone as a webcomic if you find the right artest.

Aww, packmates! How sweet. He's clearly in good hands. Thank you for an enjoyable read throughout!

A very unexpected set of event in this last chapter
And a great ending for very enjoyable story ^_^
The "we" of the end makes me optimistic for the future of that bunch XD

Thank you all.

Well, now we start a new arc, one primarily focused on the two fairy hunters. This chapter details more of how the two operate. Dialogue referencing vore but nothing else. Critique as you like and enjoy.

Catch-As-Catch-Can

Chapter 1: The Hunter's Apprentice

Illyn sat with her net across her lap, waiting for Yell to return.

She was sitting at the entrance of their current base of operations, a damaged but still mostly intact building in the ruins of Ur-Sagol. A crumbling structure made of heavy, dark stone, the entire thing was encased in thick green vines, a nest of serpents that writhed without motion over the ancient piece of architecture. Moss grew on it, too, accompanied by the occasional jungle flower accentuating the green with a brighter, more cheerful spot of color.

All around were other buildings, the remnants of palaces, temples, homes, all of different sizes and styles but all taken as the same by the slow, grating march of time, erosion, and the jungle surrounding and merging with it. Illyn thought it was very nice, a calming feel to the area. It was very old, and somehow comforting to her with the sensation of all those years. It was like being buried under a pile of warm blankets, an aura of age and history.

Then again, that could have been the humidity of the jungle.

Illyn let her mind slowly drift away from her, staring off into space as her thoughts became fluffy. Yell had told her not to let her guard down, to pay attention and duck into the base if she felt any danger, but the daydream that enticed her into the realm of semi-conciousness was far too good to resist.

It was about fairies, of course.

There were two of them. One had short red hair, steel-colored eyes, and pale skin, a set of wide orange butterfly wings that glinted obsidian when turned to the light in just the right fashion. Her grey eyes were bright with mirth, crinkling at the edges as she smiled. The other was slightly taller than her companion, skin a bit more peach, with unusually curly antennae and unusually curly red hair. Her wings were nearly identical to those of the other sprite, a pumpkin hue underlaid by black. Her eyes, like those of her companion, were grey, though they contained a bit of pale blue, as well. Sisters, probably, and close.

They were both laughing, flashing bright grins of enjoyment at each other as they raced around the sky, flitting around at unbelievable speeds and making hairpin turns so fast it was hard to keep them in sight as they darted about. Illyn gave a long sigh; she had yet to catch even a single member of the fey, and she doubted she ever would. She wasn't very good at the job, hesitating at the wrong moments and panicking when she should stay calm. Still, if anyone could teach her, it would be Yell. She turned the mood around with that thought. Yeah, Yell will make sure I become a great fairy hunter! she coached herself.

It wasn't until both the 'imaginary' fairies landed in front of her that she realized something was wrong. Very wrong, in fact. She hadn't dreamt up these two at all! They were really there! She felt panic flare up in her chest, but quenched it hurriedly. 'NEVER panic. EVER' It was something Yell said all the time, and what had gotten her into trouble with the fairy pack in Bulvon Wood a few days ago.

Besides, these were fairies, and fairies weren't bad. It was a good opportunity to actively talk to and learn about the fey, and they didn't seem to be angry or upset with her. Excitement slowly leached all the fear away, then replaced it when the taller of the two sprites spoke.

"Hello, human." she greeted, the words echoed by her sibling a few moments later.

"Oh, uh, hi." was the only thing she could think to say, and felt her cheeks heat up as a result.

"What are you doing out here on your own? It's not very safe." asked the one with shorter hair.

"Oh, I'm not alone. Yell should be back soon."

The cadet fairy hunter never noticed the exchange of glances the two made, nor the slight shift in their bodies and stances as the taller one nudged her sister with an elbow. The change went right past her without causing the smallest stirrings of suspicion. The sprites smiled at the girl as the smaller one continued the conversation.

"Oh, a friend?" she asked.

Illyn started to shake her head, then rethought it and switched to a nod, then switched it again to the horizontal.

"Err . . . Yes? Sort of. Yes. He's my teacher, but he's my friend, too, I guess." she gave, flushing again at her lack of ability to verbalize her position.

"Hmmmmm. Not very friend-like, leaving you alone and vulnerable to whatever might show up. Or whoever." the sprite amended, a slight smile appearing on her lips.

"Oh, it's okay. All I have to do is duck into this building and I'll be safe. See these poles?"

The apprentice indicated a pair of long, straight steel poles set up on either side of the doorway. They were about as thick as a human thumb and almost seven feet long, set vertically in the ground to flank the entrance like a duo of gaurds. Etched into the metal were hundreds of symbols, each gently glowing with a dull orange light. The two fairies came closer, bare feet padding silently across the moss-encrusted stone as they approached, to get a better look at the dual posts.

"Yell told me that these poles resonate sound between them so that only humans can go through. So I'm safe. Unless they get taken down."

The fairies once again glanced at each other, and the taller of the two reached for one of the poles. She changed her mind, though, and it was to her fortune that she made that decision. He she touched the barrier or the object producing it, the trap would have activated, the poles giving off a note precisely matching the frequency at which the atoms of her flesh vibrated. The result would have been her hand exploding.

But the fairy did not touch the pole, nor the sheet of hyper-dense sound over the entrance to the building, and thus went on unscathed. Rather than this, she turned to the girl.

"That's interesting, sure, but now you can't invite us in. Could you take them down for us?"

Illyn paused. It was the briefest of hesitations, but it was there. Yell had told her never to trust a fairy, of any kind . . . but surely there was no harm in having these two in the base.They weren't at all aggressive, had not offered her any threat of violence. They seemed perfectly trustworthy. The cadet nodded, then pulled one of the poles out of the ground and laid it down beside the door. Connection severed, the barrier dissipated, the two guardians of the building only able to stand forlornly and watch as the two sprites walked into the base after the girl, double smirks aimed at the back of the fairy hunter ahead of them.

The two waited until they were led down a short passage and a sharp corner, emerging in a small storeroom that had been converted into a living area before making their move.

Illyn felt vertigo suddenly grip her, a tingling buzz like ambient electricity washing over her in a shockwave, starting at her back and sliding forward from there. The bottom dropped out of her stomach, giving that peculiar weightless feeling that accompanied falling, as the floor abruptly rushed up to greet her, expanding as it did so. It was horrendously disorienting, and nausea gripped her for a few seconds before she settled into her new perspective.

She looked around, confused and terrified, still dizzy from the rush of shrinking to barely two inches tall.

Now the bricks of the floor had become blocks bigger than cars, the mortar crumbs between the stones the size of her now-tiny fists. It seemed like miles to the nearest wall, even though she knew it was only ten feet. Yell's chest, as well as her own trunk, had grown to the size of buildings, dwarfing her in their immensity. She was still staring, eyes darting around at the sudden changes all around her, when the smaller fairy picked her up. The grip was warm, but that was of no comfort knowing what the intentions behind it were.

She struggled, screaming for help, for Yell, for her LIFE, as the fairy lifted her up, world becoming a blur from the sheer speed of it to her eyes. She could only watch, helpless to do anything but cry out, as the other sprite opened her personal chest and rifled through it. Several articles of clothing were tossed out, a set of books, two spare butterfly nets, and a few odds and ends. After a moment, the curly-haired fairy straightened up, a plush fairy doll in her hands.

"Hey, that's my doll, please don't hurt it! Yell bought it for me from that nice neko man's* shop!" the cadet protested, scared but still not wanting for her gift to be damaged.

The traitorous fey simply laughed, and tossed the toy back into Illyn's trunk.

"Let's see if her teacher has anything better."

Yell's chest was more like a footlocker, and a large one at that; it was close to six feet long, three feet wide, and a meter tall. Black with gold trim and lock, it looked vaguely Victorian in its simple styling. The fairy threw it open unceremoniously.

A millisecond later a blast of solidified sound erupted from out of the chest and hurled her into the ceiling. Her companion was gaping as the other fairy crashed into the roof and then fell back down with a heavy thud, both wings crushed and unusable from being smashed between the stone and the body of the fairy herself. The injured sprite was unconscious before she even hit the ground. There were several seconds of stunned silence, and then Yell sat up in the trunk, climbed out of it, and straightened up. With a swift jerk of his head, his neck popped.

"Cramped in there. Feel sorry for my clothes, now."

The fairy holding Illyn simply stood there, mouth hanging open in disbelief, as the fairy hunter turned his attention to her. He raised an eyebrow, nothing more, but even that the sprite took as a threat, and took a nervous step backwards. The whole thing had happened so fast she had barely had time to register it before it was over, and that was frightening.

"Put that girl down." he ordered.

The fairy, not thinking, automatically did as he said, hurriedly setting the cadet fairy hunter down. The apprentice immediately scurried across the floor towards her master, and it was only then that the fey realized her mistake. She had just let go of a bargaining chip, because she hadn't been paying attention to the situation, and now she was in deep trouble. She started backing away, edging towards her downed sister at a diagonal, hands up in a placating gesture. She was sweating bullets as she leaned down to pick her unconscious sibling up off the ground, arms hooked under the other sprite's armpits.

"Ah-haha . . . Sorry about that. We, um, didn't mean anything by it, you know? Nothing at all. Yup. Just passing through, you know, checking out the sights, and we saw the girl, thought we could . . . uh, babysit her . . . for you . . ." she gulped, dragging her companion towards the door.

Yell's eyebrow was threatening to interweave itself with his hair.

"Um . . . look, I apologize. We weren't going to do anything bad. To the girl or to your stuff. So . . . um, we'll just be going."

Yell's eyebrow integrated itself with his hairline.

"CRAP! I'M OUTTA HERE!" the fairy squeaked, voice rapidly getting smaller as she shrank both herself and her sister down to the size of hummingbirds, hoping to make her escape that way.

"Bad choice." announced the musician.

He had been waiting for this, for them to shrink. Human-sized fey were not worth nearly as much as the small ones, not even close, and so he generally tried to get them while they were between a foot and a few centimeters tall. Now he had the pair right where he wanted them. He lifted his trumpet to his lips, and trilled out a dozen notes in barely half a second. Even though the conscious fairy was now in flight, zooming for the exit, she couldn't outpace sound. The condensed ball of noise hit her in the back, bursting and shredding the fabric of her wings with the force of it.

The fairy spiraled to the ground, just outside of the storeroom door, and fluttered feebly about on the bricks, the motion as frantic and futile as that of a netted bird.Yell, placing Illyn up on his shoulder carefully, strode over to the fallen fey, picking the conscious one up first. He had his clippers out in a silvery flash of glinting steel. The sprite blanched at the sight of the shears, and promptly began begging.

"Please, just let us go! We weren't going to eat your student, I swear! We just were wanting to take a look at your things, and . . . yeah, okay, I planned on taking some of it if there was anything goo- but that's not the point! Really, just put me down and I promise we'll never, ever bother you again!" she squealed, her tone changing from frightened to pained as the man snipped off the ragged ends of her wings.

"Plenty of people, I'm sure, have said much the same to you. I doubt you ever listened to any of them. I'm a fairy hunter, and this is my job. You are not getting away. EVER." he intoned.

"Please . . . If I get sold, my sister . . ." she sniffled, tears rapidly growing in the corners of her grey eyes to run down her cheeks.

"You'll be sold as a sibling set. No separation. Here we go." the sprite screamed as he let the flame of his lighter play over the wounds on her wings, the fire searing the injuries closed, ensuring they would never heal.

Illyn squirmed, biting her lip, as the fairy eased into sobbing. Still, this was for the best. If she kept her wings, she would keep on hurting people. The junior fairy hunter quickly held out her large collection jar, top open, when Yell indicated for it, and he dropped the fairy in. The fairy immediately slid down to her knees, crying as she realized there was no way out of the situation she had entangled herself in. She was soon joined by her sister, and hugged her sibling close as the lid of the jar was replaced. Illyn set the container aside, then turned to her mentor.

"I was worried they were going to hurt me, for a second." she admitted, heart doing a flip-flop at the memory of being caught in the fairy's hand.

Yell shook his head, reaching into his coat to remove a small vial of reddish liquid.

"Unlikely they would right off the bat. The fey tend to like playing with people, and these Felaryan ones don't seem to be any exception. The only difference is that they eat you after they're done playing. Besides, even if they did, I have this vomit concoction on me at all times."

She felt her stomach knot up for a moment. Eating people. There it was again. The slight chill vanished quickly though, and she gained a hopeful look as she inquired as to her own performance in the exercise.

"Did I do well?"

"Top-notch. They never suspected that it was a trap."

The cadet blushed at the praise.

"Well, I think that's enough for one day. A good rest will keep us charged up for tomorrow. Just remember to put the sonic guard rods back up." he reminded.

Illyn made sure to double check the barrier. They wouldn't want anything to sneak in, now would they?



Fairy hunting, though more like fairy trapping in action.

Felarya is Karbo's

*Reference to Mhurr - Mhurr is Frenchsnack's

Bulvon Wood is credited to Zoekin

Named character's are mine unless otherwise stated

Ah, clever. Though the narrative voice cheated a bit there. The narrator seemed to be telling us that Illyn really did let the fairies in because she trusted them. (Or... did she? Was she just being naive but obedient?)

In any case, the trap was well sprung, and the story's structure was well chosen - effectively taking the reader by surprise just as much as the fairies.

I rather like the idea of an apprentice fairy hunter who feels sorry for the fairies. It's difficult not to, after all, despite what they do. They lead carefree lives, and all of a sudden they're trapped and sold, with their wings cut off.

It's nice, too, to see a competent fairy hunter!

This is definitely the story I liked best out of all your other works, I feel like this arc will be amazing. Not that your other stories weren't good, this just has something, I can't quite put my finger on it, that attracts me to it. Thanks for the great read!