Jorvanultumn let Davorultumn and Hilkorultumn go ahead of him. As they left the chamber, Fevionawishtensen grabbed Jorvanultumn’s arm and pulled him aside. She looked expectantly at him.

He shrugged. “I’m hopeful, but we have to wait and see what they decide.” He touched his forehead to hers and the tips of their wings touched.

“Jorvanultumn,” Davorultumn called, “enough of that. There’s a time and place.”

“Oh, let them be,” Mikranasta said. “They’re young. We were like that once, remember?”

Davorultumn scoffed. “I was never like that.”

Mikranasta laughed. “You keep telling yourself that. No one else will believe you.”

Jorvanultumn looked into Fevionawishtensen’s eyes. “I’d better go.” He kissed her. “I’ll see you later. Coming, Diare.”

His diare glared at him as he approached. With a shake of his head, he continued down the hall, stopping at Itra. “You can go, Itra.”

“But I was summoned,” Itra said.

Davorultumn nodded. “Yes, but the meeting has ended because some people abused their rights.”

“But they did not actually dismiss me, did they?”

Davorultumn shook his head.

Itra bowed his head. “Then I will remain until officially told to leave.”

Davorultumn bowed his head as well. “Perhaps wise. Pleasant thoughts.”

Mikranasta touched her forehead to Jorvanultumn’s. “You did well in there.”

“Thank you,” Jorvanultumn said. “But I don’t understand why…”

“Why I insisted on staying?” She sighed. “A misjudgement. I was intent on annoying Griholbovroh and didn’t consider that it might drive them to move the discussion elsewhere. I’m sorry. But don’t worry. I have no doubt Chiansamorkin will ensure you have the opportunity to defend your friend. Come.”

They walked after Davorultumn and Hilkorultumn, who were some ways ahead now.

“Did you get the meditative papers I left for you?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“I hope they’re helpful.”

“I’m sure they will be.”

Mikranasta scoffed. “Come now. I know you don’t believe that.”

“Are you saying they won’t be helpful?”

She shook her head. “Don’t twist my words. I fully believe they’ll be helpful. I just happen to know you don’t believe that. Don’t you want to try again to convince me to go with you?”

Jorvanultumn smirked. “Do you wish me to?”

Mikranasta laughed. “I told you not to twist my words” She spread her wings to fly down to the entrance hall. When he did not do the same, she looked at him quizzically.

“I injured a wing,” he said. “I’ll take the stairs. Go ahead. We’ll speak later.”

She nodded and placed her hand on her chest. “Until then.” He returned the gesture, and she flew towards the exit.

Jorvanultumn watched her until she reached the doors and went through them. Then he made his way to the stairs. At least she was willing to listen to him more. Indeed, she really did seem to want him try to convince her. It was probably her way of ensuring they spent time together. His diare would not be so willing to speak with him—even if the Lamdritta determined he had sufficient cause to break his elispt. Davorultumn did not see it that way, and no decision from the Lamdritta would change that.

“Jorvanultumn!”

He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked in the direction of the call.

Chiansamorkin landed beside him. “I’m glad I caught you.”

“Is there something I can do for you, Lamdhir?” He regretted his words almost immediately as her face fell in disappointment.

“Jorvanultumn, it’s me.”

He should have greeted her more warmly. “Yes, I know.”

“I see.”

He had always managed to choose the wrong words with her ever since he had bonded with Fevionawishtensen. “I apologise. I…” He stopped, realising he was still doing it. He switched to the informal. “I mean, I’m sorry.”

She nodded in resignation. “Right.”

“With you on the Lamdritta now and overseeing my case, I just wasn’t sure the appropriateness…” That was a lie.

“Uh huh.”

And she clearly knew it.

She sighed. “I know I was less than...accommodating when we last saw each other, but I was hoping...I don’t know...that you might give me a chance to make amends, to say I’m sorry.”

“Of course,” he said. “I’m sorry. For now, I mean. I was just...scared I guess.” It had been two years, more than enough time for her to get over their not bonding. She probably even had her own fomase by now.

“I understand. I was pretty scared to even approach you.” She leaned her head forward.

He touched his forehead to hers. “It’s good to see you again. I’ve missed you.”

She smiled and looked him in the eye. “Me too.”

There was something odd about her left eye. Her clear eyes had always looked strange, but something had changed. There was a design of sorts at the back, like a central dot with two angled arms extending from it and crossing a surrounding circle.

She stepped back with a smile. “Like it?”

“Is that a…?”

“Tattoo? Yes. Kind of.”

“Inside your eye? Why?”

She shrugged. “Why not? Because I could.”

“I don’t recognise the design.”

“It’s personal,” she said. “I’ll tell you about it sometime. Not here though. Fly with me?”

He motioned to his wing. “I injured my wing recently. Mind if we walk?”

She smiled. “Walking will be fine. As long as we get out of this stuffy old building.”

He held the door for her as they reached it.

“So kind,” she said with a grin and passed through.

They strolled slowly through the gardens, over the hpakrik and between the rows of szadan and szadene. The sun had already set, and the moon had not yet risen, so there was only the starlight reflecting off the snow and ice for light. For a few moments, they remained silent.

“Shouldn’t you be deliberating my case with the Lamdritta?” Jorvanultumn asked.

She shook her head. “We’ve taken a recess. Griholbovroh needs time to calm down.”

“Wouldn’t that mean waiting forever?” Jorvanultumn said.

She chuckled. “I would have said as much, but that would’ve made him worse. I suppose we’ll just never go back in session again.”

Jorvanultumn smiled. He was glad to see her like this. This was the Chiansamorkin he had grown up with, not the angry soul from two years ago. “I heard you spent time with Princess Sinitïa Alessia Deanna Folith. She asked me to pass her greetings on to you, by the way.”

She glanced at him with a wry smile. “I’m pretty certain she didn’t ask you to do it in such a formal manner, though.”

Jorvanultumn nodded. “Yes, she actually asked me to say hi.” He made a point of saying it in Arnorgue.

Chiansamorkin smiled. “That’s better. And yes, I spent time with Sinitïa.”

He did his best to mimic an aghast look. “Always a bit of a rebel.”

She laughed. “That’s me.” After a moment, she said, “Humans are strange, aren’t they? But while I might not really understand it, I know they don’t treat names with the same reverence we do. She asked me to call her Sinitïa, so I will. Except when the Lamdritta is in session, of course. And any time I’m around Griholbovroh. Or maybe not, if I feel like annoying him.” She laughed again.

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“I’m not sure I could do that,” Jorvanultumn said.

She chuckled. “You can barely use the informal with me. You definitely couldn’t do it. At any rate, I enjoyed my time with her. She’s...unusual.”

“She is certainly that.”

“But fun.” Chiansamorkin grinned, but then her face fell serious. “She’s not trained, is she?”

Jorvanultumn held back a groan. “She...she told you that?”

Chiansamorkin shook her head. “But it was obvious. She knows nothing of any magical discipline. I’m not even sure she understands there are different disciplines.”

Jorvanultumn sighed and nodded.

“Who else knows?”

“Paydamat. She’s the one who instructed us not to tell anyone else. She’s commanded Meleng to fix it somehow, though such a fix would take…”

“A long time,” Chiansamorkin said. “What do you plan to do?”

“She needs training, but I don’t know how to get her it.”

“Are there any humans capable of handling someone with so much talent?”

Jorvanultumn shook his head. “No. None I’ve ever encountered or heard of, at any rate.”

“And no Isyar would ever do it. Quite the dilemma.”

He nodded. “I suppose I just have to watch her and try to make sure she never accidentally kills herself or anyone else.”

“Will you drag her with you everywhere on your elispt?”

“If I have to.”

She smiled. “Always the valiant and honourable one. She is lucky to have you.”

He shrugged. “Don’t be so sure. Without training her myself, I’m not sure how to prevent her killing herself. I can just hope it never happens.”

“She is still lucky to have you. I almost envy her, getting to travel with you for your whole elispt.” She stopped moving and plucked a needle from a szadan. “I meant it in session, you know, when I said your elispt is ridiculously hard. Personally, I won’t hold it against you if it’s determined you broke it. It’s not a fair elispt to begin with.”

“Should you be telling me this?”

She shrugged and held the needle out to him. “Do you know what mine was?”

“Your elispt?” He took the needle and bit into it. Its juice was bitter, and he grimaced. “Ugh.”

Chiansamorkin chuckled and plucked another needle. She bit into it. “Hmm.” She held a straight face for a moment, but then spit it out. “Yeah, not ripe.” She laughed.

After a moment, he laughed with her.

“So,” she said. “My elispt. Do you know what it was?”

He shook his head. “No, sorry. I was too engrossed in my studies.”

She shrugged and started walking again. “As we all were. And it’s not like I gave you much choice. I wasn’t very friendly at the time. For my elispt, I had to find a new, more efficient way to conjure all four elements into a finished product.” She looked to him for his reaction.

“But that’s…”

“What every conjuror has to do all the time, yes. There were a few other parameters I had to follow, but nothing extreme. My elispt wasn’t much harder than the tests my diare gave me all the time during my training. Do you know what I did? No, silly question. Of course not. I conjured my home. I originally wanted to conjure it completely furnished, but I couldn’t figure out a way to pull that off. I spent...I think it was ten days working out the movements. It was more time than I really needed, but I wanted to impress, make it as efficient as possible. Plus, I still hoped to find a way to furnish it.”

Jorvanultumn smiled. “I can see why you made Lamdhir at such a young age. Congratulations by the way. You were always talented. I envied you a lot.”

She grinned. “Thank you. But my accomplishment is nothing compared to what you’re being asked to do. I was done in ten days. You’ve been gone two years, and how close are you to finishing?”

He looked away from her and sighed. “Maybe a quarter done. It’s hard to say. It took my diare seven years, his diare a little over ten.”

She shook her head in disbelief. “And you have to go everywhere?”

“Not literally everywhere. That would be...literally impossible. But I do have to visit every realm, every society, every culture. Except the Volgs, but they’re the only exception. There are a lot of human cultures.”

She stopped walking and grabbed his arm, waiting for him to face her. “Tell me, Jorvanultumn, how will anyone actually know you’ve done it?”

“Well, I’ll tell them.”

She pulled a face. “And how will they know you’re telling the truth? How do you know your diare accomplished it? I don’t mean to suggest he’s a liar. That’s not my point. But think about it. How do you really know for sure?”

He shrugged. “I suppose I don’t, but it’s about trust.”

“Okay, but how will you know for sure when you’re done. What if you think you’ve gone everywhere, but there’s actually some small group of humans living off in some isolated area of the world? What if you miss them and come home thinking you’ve done everything?”

“That’s not the point.”

“So, what is? What’s the point of your elispt?”

Jorvanultumn looked away from her again, and she let go of his arm. “I’m...I’m not really sure.”

She shook her head sadly. “See? It’s a stupid elispt.”

“Perhaps, but I still have to complete it.”

She sighed. “Perhaps. There are a lot of young people today who feel it’s an outdated custom and we should get rid of it.”

He shook his head. “It is outdated, but we can’t get rid of it.”

“Why not?”

“It just wouldn’t be possible. It’s too ingrained in our society. No one else would accept it.”

She shook her head. “Everything has to start somewhere, Jorvanultumn. Perhaps it’s time.”

Jorvanultumn shrugged. “Perhaps, but—”

She waved dismissively. “But you’re not the one to do it. I know. You’re not enough of a rebel.”

“Is that a problem?”

She sighed and shook her head. “No, I suppose not. It’s hard on Fevionawishtensen, you know?”

“Not being a rebel?”

“No, your elispt. It’s hard on her. It would be hard on anyone.”

“Well, yes, but she—”

“She wants a siare, you know?”

“Yes, but…” Jorvanultumn paused. That was a very specific thing for Chiansamorkin to mention. “How…?”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Do you really think we’ve never spoken? Just because I was...angry for a while doesn’t mean I didn’t take the opportunity to get to know her when I calmed down. We’ve become close.”

“She...she told you about this?”

Chiansamorkin shrugged and looked away. “Not in so many words, and maybe I’m projecting a little, but yes. A few things she’s said have made it clear. She hasn’t really said a lot. Not that she ever does.”

“Was that a joke about her muteness?”

Chiansamorkin shook her head. “Not a deliberate one, though it came out that way. Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Fevionawishtensen’s difficulty communicating had led to her saying very little. “Do you know her signs, or does she air-write for you?”

“Both,” Chiansamorkin said with a smile. “Early on, it was mostly air-writing, but I’ve since learned her signs. Have you discussed who gets the first child?”

Jorvanultumn nodded. “She does. We decided that before I left, in case she was already pregnant. I could hardly take the child in such a case.” While they had discussed the possibility—very briefly—Fevionawishtensen had never expressed to him a strong desire to have a siare right away. She seemed content to wait. Though perhaps he was projecting like Chiansamorkin. That reminded him… “Chiansamorkin, can I ask…?”

She looked at him, a sadness in her eyes. She knew what he was about to say, and he now knew her answer. When he did not continue, she said, “Well? Ask.”

He sighed. “Have you met your fomase?”

She stared at him for a moment, then shook her head and looked away.

“Ah...well...I’m sure it will happen soon.”

She looked up in the sky while shaking her head. “No, it won’t.”

“How do you know?”

She glared at him. “Do I really need to tell you? Are you that out of touch?”

He gulped.

“Statistically speaking, I’m too old.”

“But you’re not…”

“No, I’m not. I’m pretty young, but Isyar who reach my age without bonding almost never do. It’s becoming more frequent, you know?”

“Is it?”

She sighed in exasperation and shook her head. “This isn’t something new to the last two years, you know? You always did have a way of being out of touch. You congratulated me just a short while ago for being Lamdhir at such a young age. But what good is that? I will never have a siare. People marvel at my power and expect me to be Lordhir one day, but what good is so much power if I have no one to pass it on to, no one to carry on my family legacy?” Her wings fluttered irritably. “It’s not fair.”

Jorvanultumn nodded. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

She took a deep breath, then another. “No, it’s all right. I guess it’s still a bit of a sore subject for me. It’s not your fault, and I don’t blame you anymore. And you deserve to know.” She approached him and touched her forehead to his. “I should get back. See if that bent-wing, Griholbovroh has calmed down, may his wings rot in the deepest shit. I’m sorry to leave on such a…”

“It’s okay,” he said.

She stepped back. “We’ll talk again, though, yes?”

He nodded.

She smiled and spread her wings. “Until then. Pleasant thoughts.”

“Pleasant thoughts to you, too.”

She flew low over the gardens, landing at the doors to the Governance Building. Jorvanultumn watched her until she’d gone inside. Then, instinct caused him to unfold his own wings to fly home, but he paused. Meleng was right. He needed to stop stressing his wing. With a sigh, he started the long, awkward walk home.