SAO: Strawberry Bunny

Strawberry leaned back against the broad trunk of an Aruyt tree, the sun filtering through the dense canopy above. The soft light bathed her in a warm glow, illuminating the fine details of her gear and the vibrant pink hair that spilled out from under her hood. Muffin perched happily on her shoulder, his tiny paws gripping her as the cool breeze ruffled his snowy fur.

The last few days had been grueling, and she welcomed this moment of peace. While Quinella ventured toward Faerie, Strawberry had opted to remain in the third-floor forests to hone her skills. Training amidst the ancient trees, she spent hours perfecting her wire techniques, wrapping the sturdy branches to create makeshift swings, and slicing through the air with her scythe. Muffin seemed to enjoy the training as much as she did, his delighted chirps echoing through the trees every time she launched herself from one branch to another, the wires glinting in the dappled sunlight.

Taking a break, Strawberry nestled herself into the crook of a sturdy branch. She reached into her inventory and pulled out two strawberry tarts, still warm, and a flask of milk tea. Muffin's ears perked up at the sight of the pastries, and he eagerly hopped onto her lap.

"All right, little guy," Strawberry chuckled, breaking off a piece of tart. "Don't get too spoiled."

Muffin let out an approving chirp as he nibbled on his share, his tiny face lighting up with joy. Strawberry sipped her milk tea, her gaze drifting to the breathtaking view. From her perch, she could see the sprawling forests stretching into the horizon, the rivers glinting like silver ribbons beneath the sun. The tranquility of the moment made her forget, if only briefly, the danger that lurked in Aincrad.

But the peace didn't last.

A faint buzzing reached her ears, growing louder with each passing second. Strawberry froze, her sharp senses kicking in. Tilting her head, she pinpointed the source of the noise. The buzzing was unmistakable—it was getting closer.

Muffin chirped in alarm, ducking into her hood as Strawberry quickly rose to her feet, balancing on the branch. Her scythe materialized in her hand, its dark blade gleaming ominously.

"Great," she muttered, scanning the area. "Can't even enjoy a tart in peace."

The first wasp darted into view, its iridescent body catching the light. Then another. And another. A swarm emerged from the trees, their wings beating furiously as they honed in on her. Strawberry tightened her grip on her scythe, preparing to strike.

One of the wasps lunged at her, its stinger glinting. Strawberry sidestepped, the branch swaying beneath her feet. She swung her scythe in a graceful arc, slicing the insect cleanly in two. But as she prepared for the next strike, her foot slipped on a patch of moss, and she lost her balance.

Muffin let out a panicked squeak as the world tilted around them. Strawberry's heart leaped into her throat as she plummeted from the branch, the forest blurring around her. She hit the ground—or rather, the water—with a loud splash.

Coughing and sputtering, she surfaced, clutching Muffin close to her chest. The little rabbit was drenched but unharmed, his wide eyes filled with indignation.

"Well, that could've gone better," Strawberry grumbled, wading to shallower water.

She realized she had landed in a serene lagoon, nestled at the base of the towering trees of Aruyt. The water was clear, reflecting the green canopy above, and the air was filled with the gentle sounds of nature—chirping birds, rustling leaves, and the soft ripple of water. It was peaceful, almost too peaceful, given the chaos of moments ago.

"This must be the lake at the base of the trees," she mused, setting Muffin on a nearby rock to dry off. "Guess I got lucky."

As she wrung out her cloak, she noticed glimmers of light beneath the water's surface. Intrigued, she stepped closer, her boots splashing softly. The lagoon was littered with treasures—dropped items, shiny stones, and rare materials likely lost by the Faune. She bent down, retrieving a small, glowing crystal from the shallow water.

"Well, this makes up for the fall," she said, examining the crystal. "What do you think, Muffin?"

The bunny chirped in agreement, his fur already fluffing up as it dried. He hopped onto her shoulder, clearly ready to move on.

Strawberry scanned the area, her instincts still on high alert. The wasps seemed to have lost interest after her fall, but she couldn't shake the feeling that something—or someone—was watching her. The lagoon was eerily quiet, and the shadows cast by the trees seemed darker than they should have been.

"Let's get out of here," she said, her scythe at the ready.

With Muffin on her shoulder, she began to make her way toward the edge of the lagoon, her boots squelching softly against the muddy ground. As she moved, she couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. The lagoon was beautiful, yes, but it was also isolating, a stark reminder of the dangers that lurked in every corner of Aincrad.

She would need to be more careful next time.

Meanwhile, Quinella had just entered faerie.

Quinella's Descent into Faerie's Secrets

The gates of Faerie loomed before Quinella, wrought iron intricately twined with vines and roses, as though the forest itself had conspired to craft the barrier. Sunlight filtered through the trees, casting golden beams that danced upon the gates' surface. Despite its elegance, there was an air of caution that Quinella could not ignore. The Faune had warned her of the Fae's trickery, but curiosity had always been her weakness. Muffin had stayed behind with Strawberry, leaving her to journey alone through the enigmatic paths of Faerie.

As the gates creaked open, a breathtaking realm revealed itself. Faerie was unlike anything Quinella had encountered in Aincrad. The sparkling stream that wound through the center of the town reflected the sunlight like liquid gold, while the surrounding foliage shimmered with unnatural vitality. Houses made of glass and crystal jutted out from massive trees, their structures blending seamlessly with the natural world. Nightingbloom flowers dotted the landscape, their buds closed tightly against the daylight. But even in their dormant state, they emanated a faint glow, hinting at the wonder they would reveal at night.

Quinella walked with measured grace, her violet eyes absorbing the marvels around her. Fae bustled about, their movements almost too fluid and graceful to be real. Their beauty was disarming—skin tones ranging from earthy browns to luminous silvers, and eyes that shimmered like gemstones. Yet beneath their ethereal appearances, Quinella sensed an edge, a cunning intelligence that kept her guard up.

It wasn't long before she was drawn into the heart of Faerie's nightlife. As twilight descended, the Nightingblooms opened, their soft blue light illuminating the town like a constellation brought to earth. The Fae gathered in the main square, their laughter and music filling the air. Quinella found herself swept into the revelry, the allure of the Fae's world too strong to resist.

A particularly charismatic Fae with piercing green eyes approached her, offering a glass of honeydew milk. "For you, a traveler in our midst," he said, his voice smooth as silk.

Quinella hesitated for only a moment before accepting the drink. It was warm and sweet, the taste laced with an odd, otherworldly sensation. She didn't realize her mistake until the world around her began to spin. Her eyelids grew heavy, and before she could protest, darkness claimed her.

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Quinella stirred as she regained consciousness, the faint glow of the cavern piercing through the haze clouding her mind. She blinked slowly, her violet eyes adjusting to the dim yet luminous surroundings. The cavern stretched before her like a scene torn from a dream—or perhaps a nightmare.

The walls shimmered with an ethereal blue light, a mix of bioluminescent moss and crystalline formations casting their glow. The light wasn't comforting; it flickered like a dying ember, painting the cavern in hues of mystique and unease. Lanterns hung intermittently, their glass panes clouded but still managing to cast erratic shadows. Quinella could see roots snaking down from the ceiling, their forms twisted as though caught in eternal agony. The damp air clung to her skin, chilling her through her armor.

Each step forward revealed more of the cavern's unsettling beauty. Pools of water glistened with an otherworldly luminescence, their surfaces rippling from disturbances Quinella couldn't see. The occasional splash echoed eerily, blending with the rhythmic drip of water from above. She paused by one pool, her reflection distorted by the shimmering light, giving her the brief and unnerving image of someone—or something—else staring back.

The paths branched out like veins, snaking in all directions. Some disappeared into foreboding darkness while others led to chambers filled with remnants of lives long lost: shattered barrels, broken crates, and the scattered remains of what might have once been tools—or weapons. Vines crawled along the walls, their moisture-laden surfaces glinting under the faint light of glowing fungi. The air carried an unmistakable metallic tang, underscored by the faint, foul odor of decay. It was clear this cavern held more than just beauty; it was a place that had seen suffering.

As Quinella moved cautiously, her footsteps soft against the damp stone, the whisper of the cavern seemed to grow louder. Faint murmurs drifted through the air, as if the walls themselves held the voices of those who had perished here. She gripped her weapon tightly, her pulse quickening with each sound that seemed too close, too real.

Ahead, the flickering lights of the lanterns illuminated what appeared to be a cage. Within its rusted bars were the hollowed remains of a Faune captive, its delicate frame twisted unnaturally. Quinella's stomach churned, and her fingers trembled as she pressed on. The farther she went, the more sinister the cavern became, its beauty masking the dark horrors lurking within.

This was no mere cavern. It was alive. She could feel it in the air—something ancient, something dark and watchful. Each vine, each glowing crystal, seemed infused with the energy of the Fae's magic, pulsing faintly as if in time with her own heartbeat. This place was more than a trap—it was a prison. And somewhere within its depths lay secrets darker than the shadows that danced across its stone walls.