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M aleficent leaned against the Rowan Tree, watching the end of another day. It had been a month since she’d seen Stefan, the longest time yet. The other Fair Folk had noticed her growing more solemn and quiet, but she was too ashamed to admit she was feeling a little lovesick, particularly for a human boy. She distanced herself from them, preferring to be alone in case she grew tempted to tell them about her companion, or in case Stefan suddenly appeared.
As the sun set, Maleficent’s thoughts grew dark as well. She wondered where Stefan was. If he was okay. If he missed her, even a little. Try as she might, Maleficent couldn’t shake the sadness that filled her. Was she wrong to trust a human? Had her parents been wrong, too? Not for the first time, she wondered what things would have been like had her parents lived. She could just picture the scene—running home to the Rowan Tree and finding her mother sitting there, her back against the warm trunk. Maleficent would cry and tell her everything, and then her mother would kiss her forehead and tell her it would be all right. And it would be. Somehow.
Maleficent shook her head. It was silly to get caught up in a fantasy. She sighed and gave herself a mental shake. She had to snap out of her melancholy.
Suddenly, there was a sound like thunder. Looking over the precipice, Maleficent let out a gasp. She had been so caught up in her thoughts that she hadn’t noticed the approaching army. It was charging toward the Moors, King Henry’s banner flying in the wind. Her heart sank in her chest. It was happening again. Another war. Quickly, Maleficent took to the sky.
In the countryside at the edge of the Moors, King Henry sat on his horse, addressing his army. Henry was a man long past his prime. His beard was gray and the wavy hair on his head was thinning. His waist had thickened over the years and his fingers ached with arthritis. Despite all that, he held himself proudly, comfortable in his heavy armor. This was not the first time he had gone to war. A kingdom was only as strong as the king who sat on its throne, and Henry had, on more occasions than he could count, proven his strength.
But that day was different. More was at stake than ever before. The land in the Moors was vast and, from all reports, full of riches beyond imagining. There were natural resources, such as fresh water and plentiful forests. And it was rumored that the streams were filled with jewels. Taking over the Moors would make his kingdom much more powerful.
But those were not reasons why Henry now stood in front of his army at the edge of the Moors. The reason Henry was about to go to war was that the Moors posed a huge threat. The creatures who lived there had magic. And there was no telling what they might someday do with that magic. So Henry wanted them destroyed. And if a consequence of that destruction was access to rich lands, all the better.
As his mount pranced nervously under him, Henry gestured behind himself. “There they are,” he began. “The mysterious Moors. No one dares to venture there for fear of the magical creatures that lurk within.” He paused, scanning the crowd for the telltale signs of weakness and fright. Seeing only a handful of men who looked ready to turn back, he went on. “Well, I say … crush them!”
The army let out a loud cheer. Emboldened, King Henry lengthened his pep talk. “We’re not afraid of ‘magical’ creatures!” he cried. “We have swords!” The men waved their weapons high in the air and let out another cheer. “We will take the Moors and kill anything that stands in our way!”
He threw the signal and the men charged forward. The first men reached the bottom of a hill covered in mist. They began to climb, the ground shaking under their pounding footsteps. And then they came to a screeching halt.
From the other side of the hill, two enormous black wings appeared through the mist. Then a pair of sharp, twisted horns. Slowly, Maleficent rose into the air, looking like a creature from hell. Behind her, there was only mist. No army of her own. No faeries or creatures. Just Maleficent.
For a moment, Henry was worried. He had been prepared to take the Moors unawares. And the creature hovering in front of them was rather scary. But then he smiled. There appeared to be only one.
“Go no further,” Maleficent instructed, sounding braver than she felt.
King Henry smirked at her gall. “A king does not take orders from a winged elf.”
“You are no king to me.”
Henry yelled to his troops, “Bring me her head!”
Once more, the army thundered forward, the sound of hoofbeats mixing with the clinking of armor. As Maleficent watched them approach, her heart thudded in her chest. She couldn’t help thinking this was what her parents must have seen and felt during their final moments. But she would do anything to protect the Moors, just as they had. Lifting her wings higher, she let out an ear-piercing shriek and began to fly forward.
And then, from behind her, she felt a surge of magic. Turning, she watched as a malevolent army appeared. They clawed and climbed their way up the hill. Some of the creatures were scaled, others had feet turned backward, while others had leather wings. Some snarled, while others slobbered like diseased hounds. There were ones who walked upright and others who crawled along on four legs. But they all had one thing in common: they wanted to protect their home. And they had defended this place from invading humans many times before.
As the hodgepodge army of creatures approached, Maleficent nearly cried in relief. She had been so scared that she wouldn’t be able to rise to the occasion to fight at the front lines if it had ever come to this. But now she had her army, who had no doubt rushed to her aid when they had learned of the trouble, and she felt braver with the creatures behind her. She had become their makeshift leader. And they were ready. Giving a signal, she watched as they began to attack viciously.
Confident that the creatures could take care of the larger army, Maleficent set her sights on King Henry. As soon as he had seen the Moorland army, the king had turned his horse and begun racing for home. But Maleficent wasn’t going to let him go that easily. He was one of the monstrous humans. The kind who came to destroy everything she cared about for his own gain. The kind who had killed her parents. Her fury rising as she took to the air, she flew after him.
It took her only a moment to catch up to Henry. From above, she battered the king with her wings until he fell off his horse. She landed and stood looming above him. “You will not have the Moors now or ever!” she cried, her voice booming.
Frightened, King Henry raised his armored hand, trying to protect himself from Maleficent. As he did, the iron gently brushed Maleficent’s cheek.
She let out a gasp and raised a hand to her face. Where the iron had touched her skin, it burned painfully. Noticing that his enemy was distracted, King Henry scrambled to his feet and hobbled away, wheezing in pain. All around him, the rest of the army retreated as well, running as fast as they could from the terrifying creatures.
Sighing, Maleficent gave a signal, and her army ceased its attack. Maleficent saw more familiar faces among the ranks. Balthazar nodded at Maleficent and she nodded back, hoping she was conveying the gratitude she felt.
As she headed back into the Moors, Maleficent was left alone with her thoughts. A human attack. Could they dare to hope that this would be the end of it? That peace could still be possible? How she wished she could talk to Stefan. Maybe they could make a plan to form some sort of treaty between the faeries and the humans. But a nagging notion interrupted her other thoughts: what if Robin was right? What if all the humans banded together against them? What if Stefan sided with King Henry?