Chapter 23 - A Feast for Kings

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Neema led him away from Wimbi and his twigas, ducking beneath the low branches as she ventured back out to Mahali Patakatifu. Cyrus tailed her closely and he furrowed his brow when he saw the sun high in the sky. He surely hadn't been with Wimbi for as long as the ever rising sun suggested.

He merely shrugged it off and caught up with Neema, something itching at the back of his mind.

"Are you and Wimbi not friendly?" he asked her, struggling to keep up with the faerie's bouncing steps. Neema smiled at him.

"I'm normally not that terse with anyone, but that faerie... he is something else. He never really speaks to anyone, I'm surprised he even took you to see his animals. He is a strange fellow, he cares more about those twigas than he does for himself."

Cyrus didn't respond, instead thinking on Neema's words. Was it because he was different that Wimbi was so friendly towards him? Or was it something else? All the same, Cyrus was glad that Wimbi opened up to him, he needed to know why the faeries were in hiding. For his own sanity.

Neema led him back towards the Queen's Hall, constantly waving to other faeries as she passed them. They were all heading in the same direction and they were mostly all clustered together, their hushed voices whispering through the treetops. Cyrus looked around and once again, was astounded by the people's beauty. They all seemed to walk with a grace that he had never seen before. These men and women seemed to glide across the forest floor, their feet hardly making a sound as they congregated towards the Queen's Hall. Their faces were bright and full of life, their scattered laughter like a song in Cyrus' ears. How peaceful their lives must be.

Neema saw him looking about.

"What's on your mind?" she murmured, stepping over an exposed root without even bothering to look. Cyrus looked to her.

"I wish the whole world was like this very moment." he replied, his voice soft. "I wish everyone was as kind as you are. I wish it was always still and you didn't have to shout to be heard. You can just speak and the world will hear your every breath."

Neema pursed her lips and looked away, her hand brushing his. To Cyrus' surprise, his heart didn't skip nearly as much as it had the first time they touched.

"Sometimes," she whispered, glancing around quickly. "The silence here is too much. It's too... loud, no... that doesn't make sense." She smirked. "I'm like you, I have a thirst for adventure and it can't be quenched to my satisfaction by just constantly roaming this forest. The occasional kimofti is nothing compared to what I've read about. Sheta Wolves, dragons, pirates, kings, queens, and now masked people riding on the backs of black serpents. What I wouldn't give to be in your shoes, Cyrus."

Cyrus tried to catch Neema's eye but she avoided his gaze, staring at her bare feet. The setting sun casted a warm orange haze, making her skin glow beautifully and her stormy gray eyes shine. His chest fluttered. There it is.

"Why don't you come with me?" he said after a short while, nearly tripping over a mischievous twig. "When Talos awakes, you join us. Paelford is a short trip from here, but knowing our luck, we're bound to stumble upon something worthy of an adventure."

Neema laughed and looked up at him. For the first time, Cyrus saw sadness in her eyes. Seeing something so beautiful have misty eyes and a pained smile made him ache.

"You have no idea how much I would love to take you up on that offer." Neema replied, her voice small. "I would leave with you and your dragon in less than a heartbeat, but I can't. Although it doesn't seem like it, I'm needed here. This is my home and how ever much I would love to go on an adventure, I love my people far, far more."

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