30 Elloreah

Days passed quickly for Elloreah. With Maggie, some nights were better than others, as were some days. Having the self-imposed responsibility of this woman she had helped to rescue gave Elloreah a sense of purpose she would have surely been lost without.

There were rare moments when she'd coaxed Maggie into sleep that she was left alone with her thoughts, drained, raw and aching. It was during these times that she was left to ponder her own existence in this place, this world so like, and yet unlike her own. To wonder why she had been sent here, abandoned here, by the man she'd been promised to.

It was during one such night that she heard a knock at the door, and realized she'd not set her runic spell, having needed the freedom to feel, to respond to Maggie's needs as only her own unbound powers allowed her to do.

Untangling herself from Maggie and the blankets, she scrambled to the door, hoping the soft knock had not disturbed Sarah and John, sleeping just one room over.

It came as little surprise that Mingan was on the other side, leaning heavily on the wall. She gave him a tired smile, relieved to see him there.

"Everything alright?" he asked, rubbing at the freshly healed mark on his collarbone.

"Mingan," she said, stepping out into the hall, pulling the door closed behind her. "Is the rune not working?"

"I couldn't help but notice the time you've been spending with Maggie," he said. "It seems to drain you."

She nodded, glancing up at him before turning down the hall. "It does. Would you like to go for a walk?" she asked. "I could use some fresh air."

He gave a bitter chuckle, limping down the hall after her.

"Oh!" she gasped. "I forgot. Forgive me."

"We could sit on the porch. I could use a smoke. You'll get your fresh air."

She nodded, waiting for him to catch up with her. The limp was still evident, though much improved. He moved slowly, stiffly. Scar tissue, he'd explained. She knew it was more painful than he'd admit.

He left his protection rune, the one specifically made for her, unactivated more often than not. She sensed him as strongly as she did any of the humans, if not more so.

She held the back porch door open, relishing the bite of cold and the scent of campfires. He settled down on the old porch swing, shifting uncomfortably for a moment before taking out his tobacco and papers.

She sat down beside him, stiffly, her mind full of questions, but hesitant to ask. "Why do you not you use the rune?" she asked finally, unsatisfied with the non-answer he'd given earlier. "If my abilities bother you, why don't you--"

"They don't bother me," he grumbled. "As I said before, I am curious," he said, pausing to give her a quick once over. "Before I take you to Alistair, I'd like to pin down why it is that I feel adversely affected by your abilities and if others of my kind will as well. Though it is curious that John feels nothing."

Elloreah only shook her head, rubbing absently at her right arm. The scar had begun to ache, and she wondered if it were simply because she was worrying at it, or if there was something more.

"It is my fault," she admitted. "I... I do not feel about John as I feel about you. In those first moments of need, you were there..."

"I've not been kind to you, Elloreah." There was a tinge of guilt in those words, and she studied him briefly, his profile cast against the moon light as he lit his cigarette.

"You helped me in the ways that mattered."

He exhaled, studying his cigarette for a while before turning his gold eyes on her. "Do you think it is simply your, lets say, interest, that is causing this empathic link?"

She could feel her cheeks blazing under his scrutiny. "If it is, I assure you, it is not intentional," she squeaked.

He smiled, shook his head, and stared back out over the darkened landscape. "I suppose it doesn't help that the interest is somewhat mutual."

"Mutual?"

"You've piqued my curiosity, your circumstances, your abilities..."

"You have only to ask if there is anything you would like to know," Elloreah sputtered, caught off guard.

He only shrugged. "I've noticed that in the evenings, you're particularly distressed. If you care to share..."

She touched her cheek wishing she could will the heat away. The glamour, it seemed not only made her appear more human, but at times, she could swear it made her feel more so as well.

"I, ah," she stammered, wishing she could collect her thoughts. She'd been so drained after helping Maggie, all she could think to even ask was: "I have some trouble with my abilities. They drain me physically and emotionally."

"Backlash," Mingan commented. "You must use restraint."

Elloreah only nodded, she'd gathered as much. "My world has limitations, but not in the same way. I have found I rather like the freedom, though, to use my abilities to help where I can." She watched him, considering carefully before asking the next. "Which makes me wonder why you do not use yours..."

He tensed, and she cringed as a muscle in his jaw jumped. It would have been the first time she'd been slapped for her insolence.

He considered her for a long moment, cigarette in hand. "You flinched. Almost as if you expected to be struck."

She shook her head and looked away, shamed she'd been so obvious, that she'd insulted his restraint.

"I'd begun to think that if all your people were like you, perhaps I'd been led to believe the Ethereal worse than they truly are. I'm not so sure now."

"I am a poor representation of them in most every way," she said softly.

"Hmmm," he grumbled. "If that is true, maybe you're best off here."

"I have my friends, my family, my lands to think of— "

"Who was it among those friends and family that taught you to flinch?"

The color drained from her face and she looked down at her hands, twisting the ring absently on her finger. She could feel his gaze hard upon her, and she felt vaguely sick to her stomach at the thought of defending Aleric. She gave into the urge, nonetheless.

"It wasn't his fault," she murmured.

There was no judgment, no further questions from Mingan. The following silence was a blessing in its own way. She could not defend what she did not understand.

He put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it lightly. "I feel increasingly responsible for you, Elloreah. I will continue to help you, until you are secure in this world on your own."

"I understand," she choked out, wishing nothing more than to lean into him, to feel more of him than the warm, strong grasp of his hand on her shoulder. She put her hand over his, where it rested on her shoulder, squeezing the fingers lightly. "I am glad to know you will continue to help me. I need a guide to help navigate this world of yours."

He sighed. "A guide," he murmured. "It is more responsibility than I had hoped to have, but perhaps it is time."

She turned to him. "Time for what?"

He slipped his hand from her grasp, climbing slowly to his feet. "Change. A distraction. And perhaps even, transition. I've been running a very long time."