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?
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