The confusion held.
The man in black armor, the Holy Son, waited for it. The birds on his pauldrons shuffled once and stilled. On a second-tier overlook two branches above Aewyn, a shrine maiden had pressed both hands to her mouth and was whispering rapidly into them.
Then he spoke again.
"I've never been to my Mother's homelands, not once in my life. I was really curious, though."
A thousand gasps rushed through the crowd.
"Hearing the tensions going on, I decided it was time I did what felt right. Wanting to help my Mother's people, I sought out her descendants and made a deal with the Alliance of Elvardia."
A soft inhale went through the tiers. Aewyn heard it as much as felt it.
"He came for us..."
The whisper had left the overlook above hers. It traveled down the bridges faster than sound had a right to. Three tiers away, a shrine maiden was silently praying.
