Page 12 of A Song of Air
Loyalists
Hope was such a delicatething. It demanded to be seen, to be held within the roughened palms of a person who didn’t know what it was like to care for something so fragile. It broke like glass, leaving behind the remnants of glittering flakes.
For a moment, Bryson felt that hope a few weeks later, sitting on the stumps of cut down trees in a circle with all her other comrades from camp. Arlo stood in the middle. His scent felt particularly aggressive that day, his presence a thing that demanded attention. From the distance, she couldn’t quite make out the entirety of his features, but she pictured them as stern as his posture, his smell.
It wasn’t until he began to speak that Bryson felt her heart speed up.
“Whispers have reached my ears,” he said.
Ev stood beside him in a show of solidarity. This was normal behavior between the two. They presented a united front for the rest of the people at camp, both staring so stoically she could feel the weight of their eyes pressing down on her shoulders.
“I know we, as a group, have closed ourselves off from the outside for the most part, but I’ve still got ears on the ground,” he continued. His footsteps thumped as he stepped down and walked a circle around them. He stopped in front of Bryson. “But I believe it is important to know what’s going on outside.” He paused, and Bryson felt her breath catch with impatience.
“Rumors have made their way to us,” Ev continued, his voice booming across the small clearing.
This was normal too. While Ev deferred to Arlo, they took turns imparting news, usually about where their round of supplies would come from, or where the emperor’s prisoners would be transported to, so they could intercept it.
Bryson sat at the edge of her seat.
“There’s a group that calls themselves ‘The Resistance’,” Ev said, the disgust clear in his voice. “They’re led by a group of Fae that have taken it upon themselves to fight and win a war against the kingdom of Dana.”
Collective gasps broke through the wind. Even Bryson found herself rocking back on the stump, biting down hard on her bottom lip. She felt eyes on her and knew they were Malika’s. She didn’t turn to her friend.
“They’re rumored to be led by the Seelie Prince and his guard.” Arlo spat on the ground, and Bryson felt the hairs on her arms rise at the words and tone beneath them. She recognized it, as he’d used it before. Whenever he ranted about life outside of their camp, that tone overtook him and came out in biting words. “Our source says they’re looking to conquer the human lands in retaliation for the lost war, and maybe gain back the Feylands in the process.”
And just like that, the small, fragile thing called hope rose in Bryson’s chest, swirling through her mind incessantly. Hope, because she had been so long without it. Even years ago, when Arlo pulled her from an iron cage and into the light, even as the sun kissed her cheeks, she felt nothing but hollow sadness.
For so long, she’d been drifting within that emptiness. Lost.
And now he was giving her something she didn’t even know she’d craved.
Once upon a time, her mother had died for the Feylands, and they’d all lost their home. Now, there were those out there seeking revenge, trying to gain it back.
They’d already conquered Dana.The Seelie Prince.He’d done what Bryson’s mother couldn’t; what the soldiers of her court had failed to do: conquer a human kingdom.
“In their thirst for power, they’ve traveled far and wide, leaving chaos in their wake. Not even the West Isles was spared the wrath of fools who think they have a second chance at war.” Arlo raised his voice, startling birds from a nearby branch.
