Working in a dead-end, post office job in the heart of a primarily-Human city, Arya Salcrest cannot let her secret out else she loses her rights and her safety. Norren Sterling, a member of the Council whom she met after a failed museum trip, is det...
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A girl was prancing up and down the slopes of hills rolling in vast, multicolored landscapes. She had luscious locks, the strands flying with the wind with each bounce she executed. The flowers swayed from their stalks, waving at the girl. The breeze was soft, wafting around the girl in invisible waves. It has enough realism to convince Arya this was happening in the observable world.
Except it wasn't.
Because one, there wasn't anything resembling the valleys anywhere in Aldermere. Ruins from the bygone kingdom, sure, but there was no nature left apart from the spots of trees pretending to be forests to populate the parks. Arya, herself, couldn't remember ever seeing this spread of undisturbed nature. Even her oldest memories were of skies peppered with airships strolling by and tall spires competing to reach the heavens first.
One thing Arya was sure of—whatever this scene she was seeing, it's just a dream. A vivid and hyper-realistic dream.
So,with curiosity and awe fit for her sprawling imagination, Arya watched the girl run down the valley with strong, sure strides, disappearing into the thick forest rimming it. Then, with a swirl of wind and motion, the girl unfurled a set of feathery wings behind her. If one could be amazed in a dream, Arya knew what it felt like now.
This girl was one of the primordial fae.
The contemporary fae didn't have such features. There were no winged fae in Aldermere or in the surrounding countries and towns. Mermaids lost their tails and most of their scales, leaving only the barest traces of them being non-human. Elves exchanged their striking eye colors for the muddy ones humans have. Kobolds stopped living underground and opted to wear waistcoats and trousers. Changelings refrained from changing shape and features unless necessary, hiding their horns, fangs, and skin tails. Dryads learned to shed their soft green skins and flowers growing with their hair.
Arya, herself, being a nymph by descent, hadn't retained most of the features her kind had before the New Civils were established. She certainly didn't get the wings. But this girl...
Seeing as how she was able to spread her wings and fly, this could only be somewhere during the Old Kingdom's era. Had she seen a moving film or a theater drama somewhen for her to be recalling it now?
The girl clambered from tree to tree, looking so natural and familiar with the forest around her. A loose tunic and trousers fluttered with her every motion, reminding Arya of the articles of clothing she saw in Barnholdt's common section of the Old Kingdom's artifacts. Did her visit to the dreadful museum inspire this, then?
With a rush, the girl swung off a branch before coming to a perch on another. Then, she dropped to the ground. There, a little boy no taller than her waited. A hazy veil blurred most of the boy's face. He wasn't someone Arya met at any point of her life anyway. That much she was sure.
She watched the fae and the boy interact, seemingly unaware of the thick undergrowth surrounding them. The girl was talking to the boy but the words flitted to the nonexistent wind before they could reach Arya's ears. Then, the girl flew away.
