The Obsidian Marks ✔️

| Chapter Forty One |

Levitating above an elongated pedestal, Sorein watched a Caster from Chiori Faire's Infirmary perform a medicinal examination. An older woman with rounded features and warm skin, Ezre had mentioned how she tended to Iliya personally, thinking it might offer comfort.

Nothing about his mother's situation was comforting, not even the new information or forced aid from their allies.

"You look like her," the Caster murmured.

Sorein scrubbed dried out hands over his face, sighing. He'd been told, though besides the long locks of black hair and sharper facial features, he didn't see it.

Elsie was slender and elegant, barely reaching his shoulder once he'd grown. A Lady.

Despite this, he developed the broad shoulders of a warrior, lengthy and lean like his father.

His silver eyes from no one, Andrin told him.

Heithos, himself, Sorein assumed.

So he said nothing, nodding vaguely until he heard a knock at the door and went rigid. Launching himself off a worn out ottoman, his face twisted with anger as he opened his mouth to curse out anyone who dared enter that room.

Anyone but Iliya.

Her soft green eyes rinsed over him like spring rain and doused his raging effortlessly.

He searched for the pity, but there was none.

Only a war for dominance between concern and sadness.

Sorein sagged, wind leaving the sails of the brewing storm crawling through his skin. Anger wouldn't save him.

To his surprise, Iliya didn't say anything as she entered the room. She trailed from the entrance, hesitantly coming to stand in front of him. Her head tipped upward, her gaze never leaving his.

The Caster behind them chuckled and only glanced their way once before grabbing her case.

"Halavesta," Iliya said, smiling warmly. Gratitude washed over her face now. "Thank you for coming."

The Caster – Halavesta – blinked, quickly masking her surprise. Sorein observed her guarded mannerisms earlier, marking them with curiosity. Perhaps she'd come from Nynoli where mortals with magic were considered Dynali.

Whatever the reason, the Caster wasn't comfortable with praise or gratitude and it showed.

Certainly not from the immortal races.

Another layer of weight left his shoulders as he stared at Iliya, watching her ignore species entirely.

A soul was a soul to her.

Halavesta cleared out, hastily nodding to them as she ducked into the hallway.

Offering privacy.

Iliya inspected his floating mother, the Queen still hovering in the air, her breathing shallow but even. Her critical gaze scoured for something popping out of the ordinary. He knew she could see those faint soul ties tethering emotional connections, manipulate them if she wanted.

Sorein held his breath as his friend gently lifted her hands to either side of his mothers head.

Tiny threads of gold unwound from her fingertips, bridging ladders to her mind. After a few moments, they evaporated.

Elsie smiled faintly.

"She deserves a better dream," Iliya murmured.

"I wanted to tell you," Sorein found himself saying. "I almost did..."