The Unexpected Enemy

The Cup had to be close by; it just had to be. Oleandra didn't fall for dead ends; paths that did not lead anywhere would not fool her eyes; fake paths were a type of lie, after all. Due to this, she was making good time… She could already see herself heaving the cup over her head… Her mother would be forced to admit she was a great witch… What would she spend her winnings on?

Oleandra turned around a corner, and there it was, in all its beauty: the Triwizard Cup stood proudly on a plinth, in the middle of a large clearing. But as she was about to set foot in the open space, a flash of bright red light caught Oleandra's eye. Only someone with Astoria's reflexes could have possibly reacted to it; the bolt of red light blasted through the hedge on her right and struck her in the temple; Oleandra instantly crumpled into a pile, unconscious.

Viviane blinked; she was once again in control of Oleandra's body. This was the reason why Fae Folk could not be knocked unconscious through magical means; if the main consciousness was knocked out, then one of the shadows would take control to avoid the body being incapacitated.

The hedges then began shifting; as if sliding on rails, they moved all around her; the path to the Cup was now blocked; the opportunity missed. Viviane waited a few moments to be safe before pulling out Oleandra's wand and pointing it at her heart.

"Rennervate," she whispered. Oleandra's body shuddered, as the effects of the magically induced coma were dispelled.

"Ugh, my head," Oleandra moaned. "What happened?"

"I'm not sure," Viviane said. "A Stunning Spell, I think. I didn't see it coming either; the culprit must have shot it through the hedge. Someone's not playing by the rules."

In any case, all her progress was for naught; after wasting some time trying to clear the way using the Reductor Curse, Oleandra had to double back and find the new correct path. The wall of cedars was healing itself faster than she could damage it…

"Hel," Oleandra swore. "If only Daphne were here!"

But it was no use thinking about what ifs. Yes, Daphne would have a much easier time navigating her way through the maze than her; but she would have had much more difficulty with the first two tasks. And so, Oleandra resumed navigating the winding paths through the maze.

At some point, Oleandra realized that she could not hear anything any more; not the sound of her feet as she walked, not the sound of the cedars rustling in the wind, not the distant sounds of the crowd.

"…" Oleandra pointed out. Wait, why couldn't she hear her own voice?

"What was that?" said Viviane. "I can't hear you. Come to think of it, you can't hear anything, can you?"

There was some kind of silence bubble around her; she was certain that she hadn't been hit by a Silencing Charm. Part of the maze must be under some sort of enchantment, she realized. The silence in itself wasn't a problem; the real issue was that Oleandra hadn't really learned Nonverbal spellcasting.

As Oleandra turned a corner, she spied a dark, hooded figure at the end of the path. A Dementor? Here? Impossible; there was no way that Professor Dumbledore allow their use. But, Naudhiz, the rune of distress, never lied; it began vibrating slightly, and then with greater intensity. Oleandra was in mortal danger, and she could not even use her Patronus.

"…!" Oleandra shouted, but no sound escaped her mouth.

The Dementor was now gliding towards her; faster than any Dementor she had ever seen; and as it approached, Naudhiz began ringing in her mind with deafening intensity; ironic, since she was trapped in a zone of complete silence.

But for some reason, she did not feel the chill that usually accompanied Dementors, nor their signature aura of despair. Oleandra suddenly felt as though her veins had turned to ice. This was no Dementor; it was a Lethifold. A pale hand shot out of its long sleeve; it was holding a sharp knife. Oleandra broke out in cold sweat and unconsciously took a step back. No, it couldn't be… this couldn't be happening…

And yet, Oleandra was forced to accept the truth. She had found her missing female Dusk Elf, and it was wearing a Lethifold of its own. Oleandra's knees suddenly felt as if they had turned to jelly, as her trauma came to life before her very eyes.

"MOVE!" Viviane screamed.

The Dusk Elf flashed forwards, slashing with her dagger. Her movements were faster than any humanoid's had any right to be! Oleandra barely had the time to duck under the swing, before rolling out of the way… but not before the Elf caught her in the ribs with a sharp kick, sending her tumbling into a hedge.

Fortunately, Oleandra was not too winded; she immediately sprang to her feet and began making a series of hand signs, but she was forced to give up the spell mid-cast as the Elf lunged at her with inhuman speed. Unlike House Elves, their Light Elf brethren, they did not share their spellcasting proficiency, but they were still creatures of magic: they possessed inhuman speed and agility, which made them amazing hand-to-hand fighters.

Oleandra barely had time to put up her forearms to block the slash, and even then, she felt a dull throbbing as the shock jarred her bones. The way her outfit had been designed allowed her to safely block slashing attacks with her forearms: her combat robes left her back, shoulders and her upper arms exposed, but her forearms were protected by reinforced Basilisk leather vambraces.

Oleandra's trauma originated from the Dusk-Elves' sharp knives, which they had used to great effect to torture her by inflicting debilitating cuts into her hands and arms while interrogating her. And yet, since she had killed so many so easily, she unconsciously underestimated this one. But this time, she was stuck in close combat, which was a spellcaster's nightmare; and she could not cast her Patronus without speaking out loud.

"Stop fixating on her weapon!" Viviane shouted. "The eyes, the feet and the hands! You need to pay attention to each of them!"

But it was too late; the Elf grinned, and with a flourish, her dagger disappeared from her hand. Whether it was magic or sleight of hand, Oleandra had no idea, but the trick had its desired effect. Her eyes drawn to the sudden disappearance of the weapon, Oleandra had no time to react as the Elf flew into her at breakneck speed and slammed her through a hedge.

Human versus Elf, Lethifold versus Lethifold.

Together, they burst through hedge after hedge, half-tumbling out of the air, half flying. They each rained blow after blow on each other, though Oleandra was at a clear disadvantage compared to her opponent's unnatural strength.

At the same, the Lethifolds were fighting a terrible battle of their own on their wearers' backs. Dark tentacles lashing, whipping, slashing, lacerating and tearing into each other while emitting inhuman shrieks in a veritable whirlwind of death and flashing teeth, both sides inextricably tangled together.

"HAGAL!" Oleandra screamed.

They had exited the bubble of silence just a second ago, allowing Oleandra to shout an incantation. A weak jolt of electricity surged through her hands, causing the Elf to cry out in pain and let go of her, though Oleandra couldn't escape being shocked by her own spell as well. Both fighters rolled to their feet and faced each other, panting.