Gilda's defiant grunt echoed in the sudden, profound silence of the town square. She stood her ground, a wall of stone between the guards and her friends, braced for a clash that never came. The guards didn't move. Their perfect, unnerving stillness made them feel less like opponents and more like some immovable, alien force. Intimidating them was like trying to glare down a mountain.
Then, with a quiet pop—as soft as a bubble bursting—the tension broke.
A new figure appeared between them. He was a short, wizened fairy with wings the color of old parchment, and he carried a clipboard almost as large as he was. He didn't so much as glance at the drawn spears or the defiant warrior before him. His entire attention was on the neat stack of papers balanced in his arms.
