35 Memory of the Land

Mingan led the way down a hall. He turned through what appeared to be a sort of sun room, then pushed through the back door. There was a wide expanse of porch, painted and polished, with a table, several chairs, including a lounge chair overlooking a pool with lush, green landscaping.

Considering the browns of the surrounding foothills and land they'd passed on their way here, Elloreah wondered how they kept this bit of land so green. With the massive tree overhead and the orchards that surrounded this oasis, it was considerably cooler than it had been on their drive over. She sighed and settled into one of the chairs.

MIngan chuckled. "I thought you needed to stretch your legs?" he worked to light a cigarette from the pack he'd bought at the diner.

She gave him a look. "Thank you for giving me an excuse to escape." She sighed, leaning back and enjoying the cool breeze.

"Sitala can have that sort of affect on people."

Elloreah sat up a little to look over at him. "I wouldn't say it was her," she told him. "It's more... that there is a sort of undefinable tension, and I am blind to the source."

"She's stiff and formal, and everything she says is forced," he grumbled. "She's already weighed all the options and what she says is the best for all parties."

Elloreah laughed. "Well, is that not because of her gift?"

Mingan shrugged. "I supposed, though it doesn't have to be the burden she makes it."

Elloreah shook her head. "I think that perhaps it is wrong to judge another's gifts. Perhaps this is the best way she has found to be able to do what she can, to be of service."

"Why do you defend her?" he growled. "You hardly know her, I could tell you wanted to force the subject as well. You wanted her to break out of the restrictions and speak for herself."

"I suppose," Elloreah said, rising from her chair and going to the railing to stand beside him. She leaned forward, her chin resting on her hands, her elbows on the rail. "I have been in a similar situation. The curse of being trapped between doing what is right, what is best, and what is safest."

She sighed and considered her next words carefully. "Being who you want to be, and doing the right thing, it is difficult, especially when there can be so much at stake. For me, if I made one wrong step, it could have meant the loss of my land, or my life. For Sitala, I would think it would be even more painful, more difficult to know that she could make a choice to change the world and the lives of all those she knows. I know I would be trapped in indecision were it me."

Elloreah straightened and went down the porch steps, slipping off her shoes once she was to the bottom. The lush grass beckoned, and she wished nothing more than to feel the cool blades between her toes.

Mingan watched her in silence.

Surely he must have known the difficult position his sister was in. Elloreah couldn't pretend to know the circumstances that had turned him so bitter towards his own kin. She also had no idea what it would be like to have an older sister, or really, much of a family. She'd only ever known her father and those who lived at his estate. The closest she had to a sibling was Aleric.

She paused at that thought, pushing it away as she sank down into the grass. She was here now. Aleric and her own world unreachable. There was no point in focusing on what she couldn't have, didn't have anymore.

She slid her fingers through the cool grass, her eyes closed as she lay back in it. She could feel Mingan's eyes on her. She turned her face to him and was met with a quizzical expression, one eyebrow raised as he looked down at her over the railing.

"What are you doing?" he asked, supplying the question that painted his features.

She laughed and closed her eyes again. "I'm just enjoying this luscious lawn," Elloreah sighed, her arms spread out to her sides, as much of her skin as possible touching the green grass. "This was once a meadow..." she said, as if it were an explanation. She shook her head, the grass tickling the back of her neck. "The way the ground is still moist beneath the blades, the way you can feel the moisture in the air, this... this is like my home, the lands I came from."

"I forget you are, at least in part, a tree spirit. This is artificial, though. Alistair and other farmers in the region have redirected the water to feed the lands they choose." He let out a long exhale. "Once, not so long ago, this was all marshland with tall Tule reeds. During the rainy season, you could traverse these lands by canoe.

"This checkerboard of farmland didn't exist. You can still find hints of the marshes here and there, but they are growing few and far between as the water sources are all fed into the farms. The oaks remember. You should ask them." He nodded at the large tree that shaded the sprawling house.

Elloreah sat up, looking up at the old oak. Normally she'd be able to reach out to it, sense it. With the seals on her powers tattooed into her flesh, she could only feel the faintest echo of the old tree's presence. She put her hand out and touched the bark of the stately being.

"He is well cared for, that much I can tell." Elloreah said after a moment.

Mingan said nothing, only lit another cigarette and turned to lean on the porch railing, facing in towards the house. Elloreah closed her eyes, listening to the wind rustling through the leaves. She felt so content. She wanted to sink into the grass, into the earth and never leave. Each breath was more in sync with the wind, the pulse of the world.

"Come on," Mingan said, interrupting her repose. "Alistair is here."