The Magi Hunter (Editing)

Chapter 21,- Puzzle Pieces

Previously in The Magi Hunter: 

It was like walking out of the morning fog and into an area which the sun had just shone long enough for it to clear up. To take a deep breath without feeling restrained.

Groggily and with a very unladylike grunt, as Knox would have said it, she opened her eyes. It took her some seconds to focus on where she was, and when she did she noticed she was sitting half upright half laying on the bed. She was in the nursery section of the palace, and Erkirhul stood with his back to her by the window. Dramatically gazing out as he always did.

There was another person in the room as well, one she had not expected to see here of all places. Her one and only dear mentor. Syron. 

~

"How are you feeling, Eve?" Syron asked, standing a safe distance from her bed with his hands on his back, and if Eve had been able to look behind him, she would have seen the dagger he was clutching in his hand. 

"Like I've been drugged over and over again until I passed out." She answered honestly, massaging her temple. 

Her mind was a mess, pieces of memories being put together like some puzzle piece together with the dreams she just had. But the memories were few, and many of them were still clouded, shattered even, like someone had ripped them into tiny pieces and now when she was putting them together again bit by bit they weren't as they used to be. 

She knew there was a lot more she didn't remember, she could feel it in her bones, but what that was she had no idea. At least her picture of Hailen felt clearer than ever, and the small amount of memories of Liam were there, the pictures at least, their conversation was more clouded than clear. 

Maybe Syron knew? Maybe he even knew how to fix this? She had to ask him after Erkirhul left them alone. 

"Here, try drink this." Syron held out a chalice for her to drink from, hot steam rising up from it. 

"What is it?" Carefully she accepted the cup, her cold fingers instantly warming up. She never noticed when she was cold anymore, it was like when you lived somewhere warm, you got used to it. And when you lived in a castle made of ice, it was hard not getting cold. 

"Healing Tea, the healers are afraid you're going to fall back into sleep if you don't drink this." He smiled at her, urging her to drink it. 

But Eve knew that smile. Syron was lying. He used to smile at her like that when he told her she only needed to run another round around the hunters headquarters. She always had to run at least three more. 

So she sat the chalice down beside the bed, and turned to address Erkirhul. 

"My Lord, would you excuse us for a while?" She asked kindly, knowing full well Erkirhul hated being even requested what to do. 

"Of course, but I will need to talk to you in my study in an hour. There is something I want you to take care of for me." With that Erkirhul turned around from the window and went straight out of the door, not even bothering to look at the two others in the room. 

"Won't you drink the tea?" Syron asked, after a minute of silence. 

"Soon, I just have to ask you something." Eve looked down on her fingers, which she was fumbling a lot with before she began tracing the small tattoos, ending with the beautiful dagger by her inner elbow. She always did this when she was nervous, and somehow talking to Syron had always made her nervous. He was the person in life she felt she owed the most, the person she needed to impress.

"What is it, Rathborn?" 

"My memory. It's all in pieces. It's like someone have torn it apart. Do you know a way to fix it?" She looked up at him again, and saw that his face had turned hard, cold.