As the light from the Labyrinth dimmed and the figure of the stranger materialized from its mouth, a thrum of excitement vibrated through the hidden Fairy horde.
The Fairy King, Oberon, stood tall among them, his expression grave.
'To think he actually survived those trials. How far did he get before giving up on his search?'
He refused to believe a mere human would be able to get to the end of the Labyrinth without the use of Magic.
No one had managed to do that. Not even him.
His silvery wings, catching the moonlight, shone with an ethereal glow, underscoring the severity of the impending confrontation.
"Remember, capture him. We need him alive." Oberon commanded, his voice no louder than a whisper, but it carried clearly to every Fairy present.
The stranger, his clothes torn and his body battered, stepped out of the Labyrinth, a small smirk on his face. His aura was of victory, but his body told a different story.
