ELRED VALKALIN IS ON THE RUN. After narrowly escaping the Synketros prison, she finds herself in the scent trail of two notorious communities miles below the island's surface. When she stumbles upon a hidden gathering of fairies from different races...
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2412, Xavem 26, Velpa
Elred eyed the clusters of people they passed, not missing any detail. Their destination for today was the Elders' office which Argyll told her was somewhere along the twists and turns of the tunnels. If they're such a tight-knit community, why were they living in separate bunks and not in one huge cave?
Several times, she passed by caves like the one they stashed her in. Fairies, humans, and maybe even half-bloods loitered inside, either lost in a game of cards, some kind of craft involving strings and dried fronds, or an impromptu ensemble where they busted out incomprehensible versions of folk songs from different races. Elred had never heard of most of them, even though the raucous voices followed them further down the tunnels and until they rounded another corner. It's truly a wonder how no one was able to find these rowdy communities until now.
Something nagged at the back of Elred's mind. Seeing the different races spend time with each other without much regard for what separated them in the first place left an impression on Elred. Synketros had been like that once upon a time. It's a safe haven for every soul who found the current government distasteful. For those seeking a time-passing thrill or a different kind of freedom, it was their beacon of light. The Sovereign was known to grant wishes, and people flocked towards her words like desis towards sugar.
How long would it be before the Ionarai become radicalized in their beliefs and start taking over the world?
"Do you have warriors in this place?" Elred prompted Argyll who walked a few paces ahead. With the new boots given to her by Ranet before they departed earlier, she dared not clamber closer in fear of stepping on the banshee's ankles. That, and the wounds on her feet stung even through the cushion made by the bandages. "Do you really not venture to the surface? Ever?"
"Yes to both questions," Argyll snapped his fingers in the air to prove his point. "All of us are prepared to defend the Ionarai if the need shows itself."
Elred quickened her steps despite her soles' protests. "Do you believe a need will come?"
Argyll's stare was flat when it landed on her. "We live on an island where a single difference can be a source of an age-long war," he said. "It's best to be prepared for anything and everything."
Smart. The Ionarai's elders weren't complete imbeciles.
"But don't worry about us attacking anyone," Argyll continued when she failed to muster another question. The banshee must have felt his contribution to their conversation lacking. Now, he's trying to compensate. "We would never inflict pain first. We would only defend everything we believe in and consider an enemy in anything or anyone who threatens it."
Argyll rolled his shoulders. "Besides, we desire nothing but acceptance. Our doors are always open to people who do not want to be associated with a race, a territory, or anything they feel to have caged them their entire lives," he said. "We are united by treating everyone based not on looks or anything else, but based on your soul."
