Here’s the conclusion to Minerva and August, Supernatural Investigators: The Little People Village.
“I am the queen here.” she declared in a proud voice. The leaves of her dress rustled as she walked past Minerva and August. She smelled of dry leaves and the cool autumn night. Her dark eyes met with August’s as she sat on the throne. Hewn from stone and bearing carved images of thousands of faeries intertwined with each other, the throne looked impossibly uncomfortable, but the queen seemed perfectly easeful. She traced the body of one of the faeries with her fingernail, bringing the carved being to life and letting it dance in her hand. Minerva watched; August was transfixed by the queen and her power. The tiny villagers began to dance around the throne, chanting.
“August.” whispered Minerva. The spell cast by the beautiful queen preoccupied August’s mind. His hand had gone for a scroll, but he made no move to unroll the parchment. Minerva weighed her options. She knew her powers were limited; she had placed the limits on them herself. She wouldn’t use the scroll; she couldn’t bring herself to cast a spell ever again. She felt herself slipping into the past, her mind wandering back to one night, seven years ago. Minerva forced herself back into the present; the queen was looking at her quizzically.
“What did you do, dear?” asked the queen in a motherly tone. Minerva had to decide what to do quickly, before she gave the queen a chance to learn anything she could use against her. The queen blew softy on the faerie in her hand and it turned to rose-scented dust. Minerva pulled at August’s arm and rushed at the startled queen. She crashed into the queen with all her weight and sent her hard into the throne’s back. August fell to the ground, dazed but free of the spell. He tried to stand, but his head was swimming. Pawing at the scroll, he tried to remember what he was doing here and why. Five tiny people rushed at him with pitch forks; each sting brought a wave of pain and rememberance. He brushed the people aside and unravelled the ten foot long scroll. The parchment bore an intricate painting of a labyrinth. Agust struggled to remember the words he needed to recite, his concentration breaking when he chanced to see Minerva trapped in a series of roots that flowed from the queen’s hands.
“The thousand eyes of Uggthac are on you,” he yelled, “the master of the maze calls you.” August repeated the words, louder and louder. He could feel the power swelling slowly from the scroll. He saw one of Minerva’s hands grab for a rock; in a moment, the rock crashed hard on the queen’s skull. The queen fell to the ground, pulling the root entangled Minerva with her. August continued his invocation, drowing out the little peoples’ attempt to counter his spell. The roots relaxed as the queen began to fade from reality. The tiny people screamed in anguish as he winked out of existence completely.
“What did you do?” they demanded, brandishing their tiny farming implements. August pulled a small parchment out of his coat and placed a drop of ink on it, smearing it into a magical symbol of rememberance. Minerva stood up, brushing herself off and combing the leaves from her hair.
“Remember who you are.” he said as the symbol began to glow. A scent of rosemary filled the air as a wave of energy pulsed from the symbol. Slowly, the little people remembered that once, they were not so little. Sadness filled their faces as they remembered lives long abandoned and forgotten. “She got into your minds and made you her subjects.” said August. The silent shame of the little people brought him his answer. Minerva rested her hand on August’s shoulder. He looked up to see sadness in her expressive blue eyes.
“You didn’t need to do that.” she said softly as they left the melancholy village.
“I did. They had a right to know.”
“But you can’t undo the spell she put on them, can you?”
“No, the magic is too old and powerful. I’d fall into a horrible debt calling on such strength.” August felt disappointed with himself. He looked at the scroll with the labyrinth and saw a tiny speck moving through its drawn corridors. “One hundred years isn’t enough for her.” he said finally. Minerva lost herself in thought. She knew why August did what he did; he had lost one friend to a monster in the past and wouldn’t let it happen again. However, she knew it didn’t have to end the way it did. If only I used the spell instead. I could have trapped her and freed August from her spell. I could have stopped him…
They sat in the station wagon and gloom blossomed. Neither of them spoke through the ride back to Woonsocket. When August shifted the car into park and turned the engine off, he sunk into his seat.
“I got carried away. This was supposed to be just an investigation, not a removal. It was supposed to be a fun escape and nothing else. “I go get myself entranced, then I start slinging curses and spells.”
“Don’t worry. I would have done the same thing if it came down to it.” said Minerva, “Don’t beat yourself up about it.”
“I guess you’re right. I just feel so bad.”
“You were right; the people had a right to know. Maybe there was a kinder way to tell them. The queen was aggressive and you did what you know how to do. I’m the one that’s wrong. I should have cast that spell.” Minerva sighed and sunk into her seat. August studied the pensive expression on her’s face. He just didn’t know how to respond.
“You want some ice cream?” popped out of his mouth.
“Sure.” responded Minerva. August sat up and started the car again. He drove down the street to a small ice cream stand. Somehow, as they sat there eating their ice cream cones, everythng started to seem all right again.
“What should we do tomorrow?” asked August.
“Hopefully, we get a call. The electric bill’s going to be coming in.” said Minerva, punctuating her sentence with a bite of the crunchy ice cream cone.