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“So, your family didn’t abandon you?” I questioned. Her eyes found mine and worry flickered across her face. Doubt stormed inside of me, casting a shadow over everything she had ever told me.
“It’s complicated.” She frowned and turned from me to end the questioning.
"Why would you choose to come to Exile if you had a different option?" Her body became rigid at my questioning. My fingers dug into the skin of my palms as my fists clenched tightly. What else had she not been truthful about? My heart raced with this news. Sybil wasn't abandoned by her family; she chose to come here. Had I chosen to come here, too? Uneasiness swarmed in my stomach; something was wrong about all of this. It contradicted all of her stories from before.
"There are decisions we make because it is what’s needed. We don't always have the luxury of doing what we want." Her eyes focused on a spot over my shoulder. "If you had your memories, I'm sure you'd agree with me."
"There is no reason I can think of that would make me choose this hell over my family."
Her eyes frosted over as she spoke, making me shiver even though the air was warm. "You would if it meant saving them." Sybil frowned. "You would give up anything for those you loved, even your own happiness."
All I could think of was that we would never be saved, we would never find our places in society, and elite magic would die out once and for all. The king would never allow us to exist in this realm again just because an Elitist tried to kill him.
Or at least that is what I had been told when I woke up in Exile without any memory of myself, my past, or the realm of Elloryon. I couldn’t trust that anything I had been told was true. My skin prickled at the realization of how easily I could be manipulated by others. My lack of memory could be used to other’s advantage and that was terrifying.
“Enough sad talk. Tell me how using your magic was.” Sybil’s gloomy expression was replaced by intrigue. A war raged inside of me. Did I continue with this conversation and risk losing Sybil's companionship or should I let it go?
“Honestly, I don’t even know how to describe it, Sybil. It feels comforting and so much stronger each time I use it. It’s like every time I leave Exile, it grows bigger inside of me.”
Her eyes widened at this bit of information, but then she smiled softly as if remembering a fond memory.
“What I would give to have my magic coursing through my veins again.” She chuckled. “You know I met my husband when he came to me for healing.”
Sybil rarely talked about her family. All she had told me was she was married and had a couple of daughters and a son. She did not pass down the elite magic to her children and thanked the gods every day she didn’t give them her mark.
My hand instinctively rubbed the mark of elite magic behind my ear. I was lucky that mine wasn’t as visible. Sybil’s was on the back of her hand in the shape of some sort of black flower. Everyone’s mark was different. Mine was a half-moon with four stars that lined the crest of it, but all of our marks glowed slightly making them different than tattoos.
“What was wrong with him?”
“He shot himself in the foot with an arrow on accident.” Sybil’s burst of laughter made me smile. We didn’t experience sounds of happiness here very often.
A woman’s scream from outside jolted us back to reality. I grabbed my viper-handled dagger and stood in front of Sybil. We didn’t hear anything again, and I cautiously opened the front door to assess if I could help.
A woman around my age lay on the ground next to a man, I assumed was her husband, who was dead. He had been moved into the streets with others who died so they could be buried.
Grief surged through my veins at the sounds of her overwhelming grief. I longed to be able to do something to take away her pain. Powerlessness filled me as I watched her body tremble with loud sobs. Her hands clenched her husband as if it would bring him back to her.
We couldn’t keep living like this. We would all be dead by next year. The woman wrapped herself around the man and cried into his lifeless chest even harder. I wished we had our magic still. Sybil would be able to save everyone from sickness, but the king made sure to take the biggest parts of us: our families and our magic.
We might as well have been born humans. We were weak without our magic abilities. We would become extinct like humans had hundreds of years ago.
Fae walked by her, not saying or doing anything to ease her suffering. No words of comfort, no helping her or making sure she wasn’t alone. She was on her own.
That thought compelled me to step forward. I didn't want this woman to feel what I did every day I was stuck in this prison. Sybil pulled me back before I was able to take another step.
“Let her grieve, Thea.”
I nodded as I watched the woman still pleading with the man to open his eyes. Hatred and sorrow waged a war inside my chest. I couldn’t do this. I went inside and grabbed my bow and arrows before slipping on my cloak.
“Thea.”
“I’ll be back,” I muttered as I headed towards the meadow. I crossed the meadow to the farthest part of it. I wanted to be far away from the shitty town we were forced to call home.
Once my makeshift targets came into view I stopped and loaded an arrow onto my bowstring. My breathing quickened. My chest felt like it was slowly caving in on my lungs. Dizziness made my eyes blur, but I tried to focus on getting my breathing to slow down. I spent the first few years here perfecting my fighting and defending skills. One, because there was nothing else to do, but two, I wanted to be ready for when I had an opportunity to save us or kill the Crimson King. I was still waiting for that second part. I envisioned the targets to be the king and his disgusting line of heirs, not that I had the faintest idea what they looked like. It didn’t matter. They all deserved to die. All the fae living outside of the shadow boundary deserved to be punished for allowing the king to dole out such a cruel fate, simply because our magic made us more powerful.
My arrows hit the center of the target every time, each small victory making it a little easier to breathe again. Something deep in my chest stirred with uncertainty. Would I ever have a chance to at least fight for us?
I would give up anything to kill the king.
