Denial of the Whisper

Chapter Fourteen.

Chapter Fourteen.

After Srin had brought me back to Dylana's house – without talking to me at all, he just ignored my questions – I had taken a quick bath, fuming at Nyshard.

I wouldn't go as far as to say I hated him, but he was irritating me to a great amount. The way he sometimes looked at me, his eyes cold as ice, gave me shivers. It frightened me, because I didn't know how powerful he was, but from the glimpse I've had of his rising aura... His powers must be great. Surely, they were.

But what frightened me even more, was the power he had over myself. My life was in his hands, and so were all answers I could ever get.

Dylana had also said something about a promise that evening when we were in town, and I guessed that he let them promise not to tell me anything. And from Srin's behaviour earlier... he maybe even ordered them not to talk with me at all.

I was almost sure they – Dylana, Brayhd and Caaln – knew exactly who I was. Or... who my parents were. If any of it was true.

With a light groan I got out of the tub, eyed the pile of dirty, sweaty training clothes – a simple black tunic and black pants – and went to the freshly washed clothes that Nissy always put there for me.

Freshly washed clothes every day.

A bath, every day.

Food.

A warm bed.

For a moment, I thought about my little hut, about my field, about the raccoon living in said field. And grimaced, when I thought about the hard bed, the long days and short nights, the disappointment if no one bought any of my herbs on the market, the silence that surrounded me.

In a way, I now had a better life than I had back then.

A much better life.

And I hated myself for admitting that.

It was wrong to even feel that way, to even feel a bit of contentment here.

Freedom, there's nothing that is more important. Keep it, fight for it.

I had failed her.

Sadness flowed through me, as I quickly dressed myself in a pair of dark green pants and a loose, beige tunic.

When I got back to my room, I grabbed something to eat from the little tray with fresh food from the table and took a moment, to look out of the window.

There were people walking by, all of them Fleyr. Some men, some women, some children. All of them with slightly pointed ears, just like my mother had. Just like I had, but mine were a bit rounder at the end, not as pointy as those of full-blooded Flery, Rhaayl or Lyrarn. It was the unmistakeable sign, that I was half human.

A knock at the door made me flinch, and I turned around, just as Dylana entered the room.
"Hey. Are you ready to explore the study?", she asked cheerfully.

The study was a large room, packed with shelves and a few desks, books and scrolls lying around everywhere. There were different maps pinned at a wall, a few cosy armchairs standing next to a big window, almost inviting me to grab a book and sit down, reading.

But I did none of that.

As I entered, I just stood there, overwhelmed.

I knew books. I knew how to read and how to write.