I frown and look back to Storm in unknown validation, losing myself to his bright yellow depths.
“Well, I think they spoke of the humans of the Old World. I think they spoke ofme.”
Stormfall gives a loud caw in confirmation just as Zander lets out a deep breath. The King nods his head, settling farther into his chair as he brings a hand to his temple in contemplation. I slowly peer at Keane with a frantic heart, my breath catching in my chest as he looks over me with heavy intensity, also deep in thought.
“What exactly were the words, Lady Alexis?” Desmond inquires from my left, fingers slowly fiddling with the rim of his glass.
I avert my gaze from Keane and take another long drink of whiskey, not yet ready to make the words real. Because I know once I do that the men will all come to the same conclusion that I have… A conclusion I’m not sure I agree with.
No.
A conclusionI knowI don’t agree with.
My gaze finds Stormfall again.
The Bird of Ash takes a few steps closer, reaching his head down to brush the side of his face against my fingers. I grimace at the text engrained in my mind before taking a long breath and reciting it fully.
“Born of greed and desperation, through no fault of their own… Settled into the Old World, forgotten and alone. Protected by fire, deceived by water, harbored at times by earth, Air awaits their long-lost abilities, in hopes of a rebirth. The Ancients slept as the World collides, but one hero lover remembered to provide…”
Did Stormfall’s eyes just flash gold?
“She who is touched by the Bird of Ash will see them all reborn… The consequences of that, however, are yet to be learned.”
I bow my head to Storm with a heavy and constricted chest. Golem takes a step forward as I notice Zander outstretch his hand behind him, the King reaching from the magical creature for something while still looking at me.
“One more time, Alex.Slower.”
I nod to my King and repeat the words, the recital just as hard as the first.
“The first few sentences are certainly pertaining to the humans of the Old World,” King Zander looks at the paper in his hands and the words he wrote on it, “can we all agree on that?”
Holis and Mana are the first to nod, both still leaning towards Storm and I and not hiding the excitement showing across their features. Cal settles back in his chair, frowning slightly as he looks at the King. I turn slightly to Desmond and notice that he has reverted to his hard and dark Discerni features, his emotions closed off though his eyes still narrowed on his drink in thought. And finally,slowly, I turn in my seat and look at Keane, his brown eyes catching and holding mine with both kindnessand a little bit of sadness in them.
“I understand now…” he says quietly, words directed only for me.
My chest constricts again.
“I understand why you wanted to push them away. ”
I nearly break down at his gaze, so comforting from so far.
Does he really understand,now, why I pushed them back and rejected Hirovale so vehemently? Why I refuse to be a part of his plot, of his story that is already heading forward without my consent?
My hand shakes as I reach out for the glass in front of me. Keane takes a small step forward as if wanting to take it in his, but he stops himself just slightly as I grip the drink. I wait for my trembling to stop and let Stormfall rest his beak on my wrist again, smiling at the small comfort.
“Protected by fire,” Desmond says thoughtfully, repeating the words.
He turns to his father with a hard look in his eyes. “Deceived by water, harboredat timesby earth…”
“This is Woodlands, father,” he states coolly, “we’ve allowed it to go on for too long.”
Keane turns his stance towards his father, his brows furrowing as he takes a sip of his whiskey in an agreeing nod. Zander grimaces from his chair but doesn’t say a word, though I’m glad Desmond has brought this up.The four of us from Knowledge are still completely unaware as to what exactly is happening in the Woodlands Court of Disce. Any information the King can provide would be helpful, but he just rubs his temple even harder.
“Father…”
“They are not being harmed,” Zander replies in hard resolute.
“They are also not being treated as their kind should be, asanyonein the Old Worldshould be,” Keane takes a strong step forward, dropping his whiskey down on the table, “their homes are slums. They’re taught that they are second-class beings, and their lifespans are half of those in Warrior and Knowledge. They may not be physically harmed, but they are harbored under false pretenses and taught to resent their neighbors and glorify the Discerni.”
