Chapter 3 #2
Fuck, this is a terrible situation. A really terrible, awful situation.
For the first time in a long time, emotion welled up, and tears filled her eyes.
Homesickness. Desperation. She didn’t want to die.
She didn’t want to fly to her doom. She wanted to go home and see Lexi and Mordecai again.
She wanted to chat with Bria, play games with Amber, and crack jokes with the guys.
She shouldn’t be here. She couldn’t do this.
Shh, shh, shh, Tarian cooed softly, huddling around her.
Soothing emotions also came from Stratow.
I know this is hard. It’s a lot, all of this.
You’re in an entirely different realm with strange and dangerous new creatures.
All without preparing. That darkrend scared me, too.
It scared us all. Flying like this, when your kind is not used to it—not even naturally capable of it—has got to be terrifying.
But you are tough, Daisy. You’re the toughest, most courageous human I’ve met.
You’re smart and you’re fierce and you do not say die.
That darkrend scared you, but it did not get the better of you like it did the rest of us.
I know you will do whatever is necessary to reach the end of this.
You’ll protect your family. You’ll kill a bunch of fae even though the odds are against you.
You, above anyone, will survive. You were built for it.
There is a way. We simply need to find it.
He hugged her tightly, his other arm coming around to join the first. A tear overflowed, and she had to clench her jaw to keep the sobs at bay, surprised by his speech. Surprised by how much hearing those words meant to her. Surprised by how much she wanted to fall apart in his arms.
She struggled to pull it all back in. To regain some of her former strength.
Right now, you don’t need to be tough, he murmured. Right now, you can give in and let go. Purge. We have a few hours. Lean against me. I won’t let you fall.
With that, she completely fell apart. She allowed herself to drop her guard and give in to it. Give in to this moment, to the fear and the uncertainty. With him holding her, she closed her eyes and gave herself over to his safekeeping.
The tears came, fat and painful. The memories of her life with her family played through her mind bittersweetly. She hoped they had stayed in the human realm—stayed safe. She hoped they’d lead long lives filled with love and laughter and adventure.
Thinking of them, she was reminded of why she had agreed to this in the first place.
It was there she found renewed strength.
Because even if she would never see them again, they would live on.
They’d be sad to lose her, but they’d have each other.
They’d laugh at family dinners and relax with a glass of wine in the living room together.
Someone would take over guarding Mordecai’s back, probably Bria, and everyone would make sure to check in with Dylan periodically to ensure he was doing okay.
They’d handle this. Their light and love would continue, and she would continue through their memories.
Her crying reduced to sniffles, and she stared out at nothing for a while, the crisp air sweeping by them, nothing but a light breeze within Tarian’s magical bubble.
The air smelled fresh and rich, a balm for all that ailed her.
The sky sparkled overhead, like someone had sneezed glitter all over it.
I thought fae were supposed to be vicious and awful, she mused idly, watching the other stormbacks and their riders soar around them. Not comforting and supportive and uplifting.
Surprisingly, it wasn’t Tarian who answered her.
Fae are mirrors of Faerie, Stratow murmured, using words this time.
As a whole, they are the light and the dark and the in-between.
They are, in themselves, a balance. Some are effervescent and pure, too sweet for the senses, and some are the reapers of death and destruction.
But most are both. They are vile and vicious and willing to slit a throat for their own gain, but in a society that lives forever, that is necessary for population control.
They also practice moderation and goodwill.
That is how the kingdoms thrive. It is how the society grows.
Most fae pretend at constant cruelty, and members of the court are unpardonably egotistical and priggish, but most fae will surprise you when you most need to be surprised.
She nodded, turning her head so the side of her face rested against Tarian’s neck.
His palm gently cradled her face, his thumb wiping away a tear.
He didn’t speak, and the air around them was subdued, as if he were fascinated by her turn of emotions.
As if he had to wipe away her tears, used to seeing her so strong, so determined, and doubting they were real.
In awe of her allowing him to see her walls crack and break away.
His nose traced a line on her cheek before his lips softly pressed against her temple.
His actions soothed her frayed edges. She could feel him all around her. His strength. His comforting touch.
She understood what Stratow had said. It was how the human world worked, after all. Good people and bad, with the mostly insufferable Demigods to rule over it all. On the magical side, at least. She didn’t really know how the Chester side worked other than in theory.
The same, Tarian said. I’ve had dealings with both.
They are not so very different creatures, magical and non-magical humans.
The issue is power. Chesters view magic as power, and they fear it.
They work hard to defend themselves against it.
They create borders and bombs and weapons.
They do not realize that, in their innovation, they have become equally powerful.
Their weapons could create so much more destruction—from a distance—than a Demigod and their army.
But of course, one on one, it is another story.
Very at odds, that realm. It’s fascinating to learn about. I greatly enjoy my time there.
No one else enjoys your time there, she grumbled without thinking.
The rumbling started again. Stratow liked it when she picked on Tarian.
Yes, he does, Tarian said dryly.
They fell into silence for a while, the wind drying Daisy’s eyes as she contemplated what was to come.
She needed to prepare. She needed more information.
And so, she requested from Tarian all he knew.
He complied by filling her head to bursting with images and anecdotes and names and appearances, political maneuvering and how he’d been playing the game.
There was so much complex information that she shut her eyes again, focusing solely on that and forgetting everything else around them.
That was…until the storms came.