Thin, grey light filtered through the ring of fog that encircled the group at large. “Very real.” Ry’llia replied wanly. “The hubris of our two peoples is destroying everything. Humans believing they can live without nature, Fae believing they can live without dreams.” Her eyes flashed around the canopy of leaves sorrowfully. “Our choices are few, and severe.”
The young man pondered for a bit. Then replied, “I don't care what any of the others think. I want to help. I will do whatever I can to help you fix this. I must.”
A tribal pixie, fierce and as wild as the forest itself turned to look at him. Her voice was a bit disconcerting as it came out; almost sultry, but clear and pure. "One step in the right direction can send a storm of change." She turned to Ry'llia. "My tribe will protect these ones. I accept that responsibility as they start this Journey."
She bowed deeply and then moved to stand next to the humans. The pixies were savage fighters. Nothing would harm them without serious incident. Thankfully, though, they chose negotiations before war.
"Your offer is both generous and dangerous.” The Speaker regarded the pixie tribe, no less ferocious for their diminutive size. She didn’t need to ask them if they were willing to take the risk, they wouldn’t have stepped forward otherwise. “You will have to return with them to the iron cities, choked with poisons to us.”
Ry’llia’s narrow brow pulled together pensively. What she understood was that mortal ways were causing decay and decimation to seep across the world. Ever since the Great Lockdown, the steel skylines had long ago been quarantined from the natural world, but their contaminates had not been so contained. All the while, the population seemed to amble through their days in a stupor, unwitting. Why?