Axelius crouched behind an overturned table, grinning like a gremlin as he peeked over the edge, frosting still smeared on his sleeve. Cream-filled pastries and crumpled napkins rained through the air like battlefield debris, and the garden was now an all-out warzone of sugar and screams. His heart was racing, but not from fear—from the sheer thrill of it all. He hadn't laughed like this in ages.
Then came a soft voice, almost drowned out by the chaos, "Brother?"
He turned and saw Ellory making her way through the madness, ducking as a flying tart zoomed past her head. Her eyes were wide, her arms held close to her chest in panic. "What's happening?! Are we under attack?!" she whispered loudly, sliding behind the table with him.
"No," Axelius said, chuckling, "This is war. And guess what? We're winning."
Ellory blinked, still unsure.
Axelius leaned closer, eyes twinkling. "Wanna help?"
"M-Me?" she pointed to herself.
