Written April 10th, 2020 11:24 PM

Ailith couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy. She had been there when Feyra got her stolen memories back and found out that her parents had sacrificed themselves for her survival. Obviously, Ailith was happy that Feyra had closure, but there was part of her that wished they could both be orphans abandoned by their parents, nebver knowing them, never needing them. Now, Feyra was a lady. Actually, the capital “L” Lady of Dragontower, and Ailith was still just… Ailith.

She tried not to look at Feyra differently, but now that she knew the truth about Feyra’s past, she felt disconnected. Ailith remembered the girl who stumbled across her in the forest, aiming an arrow at her chest, ready to loose it without hesitation. The girl who taught Ailith how to forage for food and who watched her back as they took turns sleeping next to their fire on their journey south. That girl felt farther away now that Ailith knew who Feyra was supposed to be.

Shaking the lingering feeling away, she stood at Feyra’s shoulder as the latter delivered a guilty sentence to Melinda Corvus with a sombre grace. When the time came, Ailith stood stood in the crowd, one hand on Gregor’s shoulder, and watched with grim pride as Feyra delivered the justice herself, quickly and cleanly. For someone so used to a bow and arrow, her family’s ancestral sword suited her and she wielded it deftly. Ailith locked eyes with Feyra from across the room, Feyra’s eyes glistening slightly. Ailith gave her a small smile of encouragement and committed this version of Feyra to memory, slowly reconciling her with the girl from the forest. This was the moment that girl truly stepped into her role as Lady Amberwood of Dragontower with stunning finesse and poise.