Trust and Truthfulness

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8

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The past few days had been brutal mentally, but the results were definitely beginning to show. The flower and herb names were still ludicrous and long to him, but at least Rylir was remembering the plant uses; at least, it was easier to remember some of them. If he couldn't remember, he could, at the very least, make a decent guess.

Rylir half expected Essie to be more involved as he practiced naming the herbs and tending to them in the flower boxes. Interestingly to him, that wasn't the case.

Essie's demeanor had relaxed only once in these past days and tense for the rest. Perhaps she was giving him time to learn on his own while keeping tabs on him mentally? That must be it, right? Sadly, Rylir did not think this was the case. He suspected why she seemed distracted and not quite like herself.

These past few mornings, Rylir had felt himself startle awake due to a loud sound, often a shout or a scream.

All from Essie.

A few times, he was able to discern the words, but his main concern was the state she was in after she woke up. In a word, she looked exhausted.

There were dark circles that were barely discernable forming under her eyes. When Rylir work up, she was always working away, scribbling sigils and notes onto her thick stacks of parchment. She wasn't irritable, but it was obvious something was weighing on her mind.

Rylir felt compelled to ask her what was going on, but he could not bring himself to do it. Essie was the private type and did not willingly volunteer information about herself. Rylir didn't want to display bad manners by prying into his host's privacy. At the same time, nearly two months had passed since the two of them met in the woods that fateful day and he knew almost nothing about her.

It wasn't for lack of trying, and it certainly had to do with the intimidation factor of her being able to snap him in half in between two of her fingers without a second thought if he said the wrong thing; not that he thought she would do it.

He had asked different things, like how she learned magic or what brought her to this place here in the mountains of Fanged Ridge. Her responses, as always, were almost straightforward and blunt.

"I have always been able to use magic. It was something I was undoubtedly born with, and my mentor made me stronger."

"I like the mountains."

"Snow is beautiful, and the cold doesn't bother me."

"Sigils are a way to make sense of the world. The layered patterns describe what words cannot."

"Why would I waist time staring at the sea that is contaminated with fecal matter from aquatic and sentient creatures when I could admire the freshly fallen, untouched frozen water just outside of my front door? Less travel and far more sanitary."

Needless to say, her responses were not looking to connect or engage, but rather functionally answer his questions.

On the other hand...

She had asked him about his family the other day.

Perhaps things were changing.

Rylir decided he would ask when the time was right and when she seemed ready to talk.

Besides.

She wouldn't lie to him, and he wanted to be ready for whatever response she gave him. She would be straightforward and truthful as she always had. She hadn't lied so far; and if it were important, she would tell him, right?

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