CHAPTER 69: THE GLIMMERING FIELD (2)

"Hello," Apollo said, unsure of the proper etiquette for addressing such a being.

The fairy responded with a sound like tiny bells, then zipped away to join her companions, who had begun interacting with the rest of the group with increasing boldness.

A cluster of green-glowing fairies had surrounded Thorin, tugging at his beard with evident fascination. The dwarf stood rigid, clearly torn between swatting them away and not wanting to injure such small creatures.

"Stop that," he growled as one fairy attempted to undo one of his carefully placed beard-braids. "That took an hour to plait properly!"

Nearby, Nik had become the center of attention for a group of fairies with golden glows. Unlike Thorin, he seemed delighted by their interest, extending his hands for them to land upon and speaking to them in the exaggerated, gentle tone one might use with very small children.

"Aren’t you the most beautiful little beings?" he cooed, as one perched on his outstretched finger. "Your wings are absolutely magnificent, like dragonfly wings but much more elegant. And your glow! So radiant! I bet you’re the brightest of all your friends, aren’t you?"

The fairy preened visibly under his praise, its glow intensifying as it performed a quick aerial somersault that made Nik laugh with genuine delight.

Renna was having a decidedly different experience. Several purple-glowing fairies had taken an interest in her dark hair, attempting to braid sections of it even as she walked.

She tried to brush them away, but they returned persistently, their bell-like laughter increasing with her frustration.

"This isn’t funny," she insisted, though Apollo caught the reluctant quirk of her lips as one fairy placed what appeared to be a tiny mushroom cap atop a completed braid like a bizarre decoration.

Only Lyra maintained her distance, knife now drawn though held at her side rather than threateningly. Her green eyes tracked the fairies’ movements with the wariness of a hunter assessing potential predators, not prey.

"We should keep moving," she said, voice pitched low. "We don’t know what they want."

As if in response to her suspicion, the fairies’ behavior shifted. What had been curious exploration became more mischievous. A red-glowing fairy darted to Thorin’s belt, nimbly unfastening the loop that held his axe. Before the dwarf could react, the fairy and two companions had lifted the weapon, surprisingly strong for their size, and carried it just out of reach.

"Hey!" Thorin lunged for it, but the fairies flitted higher, their laughter now carrying a distinctly teasing tone.

Simultaneously, several blue fairies had descended on Apollo’s pack, opening the flap and rummaging through the contents. One emerged triumphantly with his wooden flute, while another had found a packet of dried meat, which it examined with evident disgust before dropping back into the pack.

"Please return that," Apollo said, reaching for the flute. The fairy darted away, then hovered just beyond his grasp, playing a silent pantomime on the instrument.

All around them, similar scenes unfolded. The golden fairies had united Nik’s carefully arranged scarf and were using it as a swing between two mushroom stalks. Renna’s carefully organized pack had been emptied, its contents rearranged in a bizarre pattern on the ground that almost resembled a face.

"Lyra, look out!" Apollo called, spotting a group of green fairies approaching her from behind.

She spun, knife raised, but the fairies scattered at her movement, their laughter now edged with something sharper. They regrouped at a safer distance, clearly reassessing this human who wouldn’t play along with their games.

"Nik," Apollo heard his own voice say from somewhere to his left. "Help me with this, would you?"

He turned, confused, to find a purple fairy hovering nearby, its mouth moving in perfect synchronization with the words it had just produced in his exact voice and intonation.

"Over here," came Lyra’s voice from the opposite direction, though Lyra herself stood several yards away, her expression making it clear she hadn’t spoken.

The mimicry continued, the fairies reproducing their voices with uncanny accuracy, creating a disorienting chorus of familiar words coming from unfamiliar sources.

"Stop this," Thorin demanded, still trying to reclaim his axe from the red fairies, who now played an elaborate game of keep-away with it. "This isn’t amusing anymore!"

"I think it’s hilarious," Nik countered, having apparently decided to embrace the chaos. He was attempting to teach a group of golden fairies a simple clapping game, though their tiny hands made the exercise challenging.

Apollo felt a presence near his ear and turned to find the blue fairy who had first approached him hovering close again. Unlike the others, her expression had turned solemn, almost concerned.

"Outsiders rarely pass through untouched," she whispered, her voice like the faintest chime of a distant bell. "The field remembers what walks upon it."

Before Apollo could ask what she meant, her serious demeanor vanished, replaced by the same mischievous delight as her companions. She darted away, joining a group that was now attempting to lift Thorin’s boot while he remained standing in it.

Suddenly, as if responding to some signal Apollo couldn’t perceive, the fairies froze in midair. Their luminescent bodies pulsed once, twice, then as the first hints of dusk touched the mushroom caps overhead, they scattered in all directions.

Within moments, they had vanished completely into the fungal forest, leaving only lingering trails of light that faded like dying embers.

"Well that was... abrupt," Nik said, staring at the space where his golden companions had been playing with his scarf just seconds before. The garment lay abandoned on the ground, knotted in ways that would take hours to undo.

Thorin reclaimed his axe from where the red fairies had finally dropped it, inspecting the edge with suspicious care. "Good riddance," he muttered, though Apollo detected a note of disappointment beneath the gruffness. "Meddlesome little pests."

Renna was already repacking her scattered belongings, her face tightening as she discovered several items had been swapped or rearranged. "My dried apricots are gone," she reported, holding up a pouch now filled with what appeared to be tiny, iridescent mushroom caps.