Shan sat quietly in the other tent, the faint murmur of Raylee’s voice filtering through despite the plugs in his ears. He winced, adjusting the plugs slightly in an attempt to block the sounds. Living with a sensitivity that made it almost impossible to shut out others’ conversations was an ongoing struggle. There was a time when he might have wished for someone like Lonna to take away his heightened hearing altogether. Now, though, he was finally starting to see the benefits. After a moment, he felt a gentle pressure against his side. Loka had slipped into the tent, curling up beside him after checking on Lonna. Her presence was soothing, and he slipped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close and wrapping his blanket around them both. “Is this okay?” he asked, his voice a low murmur. She nodded, letting out a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of exhaustion. “I’m spent,” she admitted, snuggling deeper into the warmth. “I read so much from her. It’s overwhelming. I can’t even begin to sort it out.” Shan pressed his cheek against her hair. “How’s she doing?” he asked softly, knowing how Loka’s connection to people made even a brief encounter a flood of emotions and thoughts. “She’s better, almost healed,” Loka replied, her voice tinged with worry. “But as her strength returns, she’s becoming more aware of her surroundings, and it confuses her. She told me she thought everything she remembered about this place was part of her imagination—even her memories of me.” Shan frowned. “We’ll work with her, help her as much as we can,” he promised. “When we get to Menthanla, you can take her to Yotiuy. The best counselor in the kingdom is there. I think he may have even worked with Jahree. It might be the right time for both of them.” Loka nodded, leaning her head on his shoulder. “You know, when Lanni was little, her older brother tormented her so much she eventually ran away and ended up someplace much worse. We found out later he’d been under a spell. When the spell was broken, she forgave him, and they grew close. If you saw them together, you’d never guess the hurt she’d endured.” She smiled faintly, and Shan kissed her cheek. Lonna’s voice startled them both as she moved closer. “That’s wrong.” Shan blinked, looking up. “What’s wrong? Me kissing her?” “No… yes… well, no,” Lonna stammered, fidgeting with the hem of her cloak. “I mean, you two cuddling. It’s strange. Loka was my imaginary friend for so long. I thought I’d made her up. And I remember… she didn’t like to be touched.” Loka let out a small laugh. “I still don’t,” she admitted, “but someone once told me how silk, linen, and dragon skin could block healing. My cloak is made from it, and Shan’s a rare exception—he doesn’t have much I can read.” A look of sadness crossed Loka’s face. “After you had Fria, I went back to Ertonia. I moved away from the city and isolated myself. The Senate only summoned me in emergencies, but otherwise, I saw no one. I didn’t even know you were alive. I thought you’d died, and when I finally went to check on your family… Fria and her daughter Darina were gone. Dar’s daughter was missing. I’d assumed…” Lonna’s brows knit together, her expression distant. “Darina was Fria’s daughter?” she asked softly as if the name pulled at the threads of memories long buried. Loka nodded, eyes gentle. “Yes. You did know her. She honored you by naming her own daughter after you.” Lonna’s eyes shifted away, lost in thought. “That was Lanni? Where was she when she went missing?” Loka’s voice softened. “She was a prisoner of Lyra. She escaped, eventually.” Lonna stared, a haunted look in her eyes. “How long has it been since then? Since I’ve been gone?” Loka’s tone was gentle but unwavering. “A thousand years.” Lonna’s face crumpled. “A thousand?” She hugged herself, a shiver running through her. “I… only remember about half of that. The rest is a blur. I’m not sure I even want to remember it all.” Shan placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Some memories are better left in the past.” “We were best friends once. Tell me, how did you two meet?” Lonna requested. Loka looked up, her voice even. “I was working as a healer for a noble family in Yarba, and Shan was stationed there.” “I have a skin problem and need special treatments. Loka would keep me company while I was getting them,” Shan added casually. However, he knew Loka would be tight-lipped about the details. “A skin problem?” Lonna tilted her head. “Doesn’t that make touching difficult?” “If he keeps it treated, it’s not bad. He’s not an unreadable, but his condition isn’t cumulative. We’re moving slowly, but we’re managing,” Loka explained. “What about you?” Shan asked, redirecting. “You were on Tameria for centuries. Did you ever meet anyone?” Lonna’s face darkened. “I wasn’t allowed.” “They tell you who you can marry?” Loka asked, her brow furrowing. The dragons usually insist on free choice in marriages for all treaties. Maybe they didn’t this time since there wasn’t much contact. Lonna shrugged, her tone bitter. “Not unless there’s a high probability of birth defects. But they didn’t want me tainting the population with my magic.” Just then, Tercala sat beside them, handing each a canteen of water, freshly melted snow over the brazier. He was making an effort to conserve water, given the dry winter air. Shan took his canteen gratefully, the cold biting at his throat. “So, Tercala, do you have someone back home?” Lonna asked, her voice almost too casual. “What do you mean by ‘back home’?” Tercala’s voice was sharper than he intended, a trace of his Ertonian accent slipping through. The reminder of his upbringing outside Menthanla always irritated him. He’d faced a lifetime of others ignoring his Menthanlan citizenship. “Oh, I just assumed you didn’t live in Yarba. I thought you were Menthanlan. I don’t know where in Menthanla you live.” He forced a chuckle, relaxing slightly. “I’m Menthanlan, but I go where they send me. My wife died long ago.” “Do you have children?” Lonna pressed. “Four, all grown. I’ve got grandkids and even great-grandkids now.” He smiled, pride clear on his face. Lonna nodded, though her expression seemed to dim at his words. “It must be nice to have family who remembers you.” An uneasy silence fell. Shan cleared his throat. “How much longer to the coast, Tercala?” “If the weather holds, about two weeks. Maybe less if the roads are good,” Tercala replied. Shan sighed, rubbing his arms against the cold. “Good, I’m tired of freezing.” Tercala laughed. “What are you talking about? You’re built for cold.” “Not this cold. And I don’t have a bellyfire.” “If I want to use my fire, I’m walking barefoot in the snow,” Tercala pointed out. “Yeah, not the best option,” Loka agreed, leaning against Shan for warmth as he returned from getting more water. Lonna’s voice cut through the moment. “What happened to the girl’s mother? She’s here with only her father, isn’t she?” “Her parents are nobles. She ran away because of the magic eater. We’re taking her someplace safe,” Loka explained carefully. Tercala growled, glaring at Lonna. “You stay away from her.” Lonna’s eyes widened in genuine surprise. “I was just asking.” “You’ve hurt enough people, people like you shouldn’t be allowed near kids,” Tercala snapped. Lonna’s face fell, her tone becoming defensive. “People like me?” Tercala’s eyes narrowed. “I know what you did to Jahree. I’ve known people who experiment on kids. I still have scars from experiments like yours.” Lonna looked as though she’d been slapped. “No one here did what I did,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “You experimented on him. That’s enough. After a thousand years of healers and endless shedding, I still have scars,” Tercala growled. “What happened?” Lonna asked softly. Tercala’s jaw clenched. “Morci’s experiments left me with scars that my scales can’t cover. I’m lucky it was only my leg because now I have trouble shedding.” The shock in Lonna’s eyes was unmistakable. She swallowed hard, retreating to her bedroll. “I’ll sleep so I don’t slow you down tomorrow,” she murmured, turning her back to them. Loka followed, giving Tercala a reproachful look. Shan turned to Tercala, his voice cautious. “Was that really fair?” Tercala crossed his arms, his expression hard. “She experimented on children, Shan. They both hurt them.” Shan shook his head, voice firm. “So did Drepal. You don’t talk about her like that.” “Drepal was forced into it, she didn’t have a choice,” Tercala argued. “Neither did Lonna,” Shan replied, his tone unwavering. Tercala snorted. “Drepal escaped, risked her life rather than hurting others.” Shan’s eyes met his, intense. “Drepal was only a few hundred 10-reach from safety. Where could Lonna go? Her prison included her whole world. And she did escape. Seeing her coming through that gate, she was coming willingly, fighting the Tamerians. She protected Raylee at times, too.” “I’m not saying she was right in doing what she did. But sometimes, when given the choice between being beaten or going against your principles, you don’t always make the right choice. How many times did you do something wrong to avoid being punished by Cramda or Morcri?” Shan asked. “I didn’t know it was wrong.” Tercala reminded him. “If you did, would it have stopped you?” Shan asked. “Maybe on some things, but probably not for most,” Tercala admitted. “But I don’t trust her.” Shan’s voice softened. “Were you trusted back then, or did you have to earn it?” Tercala hesitated, his expression softening slightly. “I earned it,” he admitted. “Then give her the chance to do the same,” Shan said quietly. Tercala’s face remained hard, but he nodded, albeit reluctantly. “I’ll try, but I won’t turn my back on her.” #fantasy #magic #dragons #hiddenlands