*COMPLETE* "People don't believe in us anymore. They don't believe that in the end we will do what is right. We can't let them down. We can't let Ben win."
Decisions made on top of the lonely, wind-swept cliff of Lethinor reverberate around the five...
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Flying is terrifying.
Hiran tries to spare the outside clouds as little attention as possible—each time he catches one drifting through the nets and metal outcrops his stomach roils, a pressing reminder that he is a Nature-caller, that he belongs down below, with earth and water.
Tara does not have these problems. Hiran likes to think that this is simply because she has seen the sky from this perspective so often through her birds. Any normal human being would surely feel this queasy too, at least the first time.
The same goes for Finn—though, in all fairness, Finn could never be called a "normal" human being under any circumstance, regardless of Skill propensity. Hiran holds out some suspicion on the "human being" part too, on occasion. He likes the kid, but he sometimes wonders if he grew up amongst wolves or something and missed much needed early socialization.
Regardless, said kid has finally opened his eyes—after, Hiran notes sourly, all the manual labor and hardship has passed. His first words weren't "Where am I?" or "What happened?" or even something mundane like "Do you have water? I haven't drank anything in five days."
They were: "I never thought I would come back as a bird."
Right.
After Tara explained where they are and where they are going Hiran had followed this up with a question of his own—namely: "Do you remember what happened to you?"
This, like any vaguely subjective question asked of Finn, was a shot in the dark. Anything from "a crazy fire fanatic cracked me over the head with a metal sword" to "I ascended to the zenith as the head of the fireflies" was equally likely, but even so, Finn had surprised him.
He didn't say anything at all.
It was apparent he remembered what had knocked him out for five days: upon hearing Hiran's request the boy had turned paler than milk—a feat as he was so pale already—and something like a mix of fear and revulsion had twitched across his face. It was fascinating—a boy who, to be frank, never seemed 'there' enough to be rattled by anything, suddenly appearing so young and vulnerable.
What in the world ever possessed Allayria to put him on the team? Hiran had thought, and not for the first time.
Tara had then reached across and wrapped her arms around the boy, her chin resting on the top of his head.
"Don't worry about it," she had said to him, and there was such a smoothness in her low voice, a soft, coaxing warmth that mirrored the comforting stroke of her hands across his hair. "You're alive, and that's all that matters."
Hiran had been impressed—feelings had never been something he had judged as a "strong suit" of Tara's, though there is something easily endearing about Finn. Hiran remembers well the casual fireside talk of trash and thorn lilies, the way Hiran's own insides had squirmed, unfamiliarly uneasy with the frank talk of a boy so below his own station.
