Seekers of Nazar

Chapter Twenty-Five

Elleric pulled his chair to the window so that he could stare out at the garden while Leilandri slept. The flowers were visible yet distorted through the thick panes of glass. The style of the manor reminded him of the Andarian plains, but there were subtle differences. The window for one. In Andaria, glass was clear yet fragile. The watery green glass of the manor was designed to withstand time, and it had. It let in ample light and the garden beyond added color to the room like a painting. There was a connection between the people who built both kinds of manors, some shared legacy. Although, the secret of that connection was lost long ago.

Although his view was somewhat distorted, Elleric still marveled at the gardens. Demetria had recreated them with nearly exact precision. Elleric wondered how she kept them as healthy as she did. The Aster Mountains did not have the humidity of Nazar. He assumed magic, a slight modification to the pattern so that she could enjoy what she loved.

He glanced over at Leilandri. She was sitting up on her elbows, watching him, her hair fanning out around her like a veil. Her beauty made him ache. He took her in for a moment but turned back to the window with a tight jaw. He had made his decision. There was no point in regretting it now.

"What are you thinking," she asked, her voice soft from sleep.

He cleared his throat and pointed to the view beyond the windows. "The gardens."

"Oh," she sighed. "They are so like Nazar. It makes me long for home."

She drifted over to him, a blanket around her shoulders. She had spent the night scrubbing the dirt off her skin with a pot of warm water. He could smell the familiar scent of her soap. As she stood over him, leaning forward to take in the view, strands of hair fell forward and brushed his cheek.

"I should say they are exactly like Nazar, shouldn't I?" she observed.

"Aye." He shifted away from her.

She was studying him, but he kept his eyes forward. He was clasping his hands tightly in his lap. He wished, more than anything, she would not stand so close. She must have sensed his thoughts because she drifted to the edge of the bed and sat on it. "You have been quiet since the blizzard, is there anything else on your mind?"

Elleric turned in his chair to face her. "Is it unusual for me to be quiet?"

She pursed her lips and tucked hair behind her ear. "No. It's not usual. But you seem agitated."

He put his hands together in a steeple, thinking about her comment. "I've been wondering about Jena, and what your plans are for her."

She pulled the blanket around her. "What do you mean?"

"Are you going to take her to Tol-Aka?" He already knew the answer but needed to be sure.

Her face flickered with several emotions before she drew in a breath. "I don't have a choice, Elleric."

"You always have a choice." He leaned back in his chair. She appeared so thin and frail, and always had. He was constantly worried something might happen to her. No matter how hard he tried to protect her from threats, the biggest one came from within her. Nazar had a hold on her will in a way he did not understand.

"You know how powerful she is." Her voice was pleading. She didn't want to fight, and neither did he.

"Yes, she is." He couldn't deny Jena's potential. A Weaver who could erupt a dormant volcano with her anger was a force the world had never seen.

"She needs to learn to control it, and there is only one place that can teach her."

He stared past her. The answer felt wrong in his gut, but he didn't know why. He wasn't wise about the ways of hunches, but his instinct had saved him many times on the battlefield. "What about Demetria?" he asked.