Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 87731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Bria moved ahead of him, pushing it open.
As they stepped outside, cool air greeted them, carrying the scent of pine and distant sea.
The quiet rhythm of the village wrapped around them, so different from the tension left behind.
They walked a few paces before Kaelan spoke.
“May I?” he asked, extending his hand to her.
Her brow narrowed as she cautiously asked, “You wish to hold my hand?”
“Aye. The movement has stirred the wound, and you are a comfort healer,” he said as if she needed reminding.
She hesitated, though not because of the request, but because of the memory of what she had just felt. What she had not understood and, yet strangely enough, what she found herself wanting to feel again.
Slowly, she extended her hand.
His fingers closed around hers, warm, firm, and—
There it was again, only stronger this time. Not simply the easing of pain, though she felt that too, the tension in him lessening beneath her touch.
Nay, it was something more. An unmistakable tug that unsettled her in ways she could not explain. Her breath caught softly, though she kept her gaze forward. This was not how it had ever been, not with anyone.
And yet she did not pull away.
They walked on, her hand still in his, the contact no longer questioned—only felt.
Bria glanced at him. “Why the interest in Driochmor?”
Kaelan did not look at her as he answered, “I have seen how people retreat from the name… or refuse to speak it at all. It made me curious what causes such fear.”
Her steps slowed slightly, though she did not stop.
“Is it true,” he continued, “that magic resides there?”
Bria drew a soft breath. “That is what we are told.”
“And you believe it?”
“From the stories told, there was reason enough for King Halric to act as he did,” she said.
Kaelan’s attention sharpened. “Halric.”
“Aye,” she said. “It was during his rule, grandfather to King Dravic, that magic was banished. Those who practiced it were driven from the regions and sent to remain where the heart of magic dwelled… Driochmor.”
“Why?” he asked.
“To protect Scotara,” she answered without hesitation. “Magic turned against the kingdom. It could not be trusted, and so it was condemned and banished.”
Kaelan was quiet a moment.
“And now?” he asked. “It remains there… contained?”
“Aye, according to law, though recently King Dravic has opened communication with Driochmor,” she added quickly, “though the law still forbids others from going there.”
“Do you believe that law is obeyed without question?” he pressed. “And why now would the king speak with those who were once thought to betray Scotara?”
Bria looked at him then, more directly than before as she considered his questions. “There are few, if any, who would dare disobey the king’s law, and why he would seek talks with Driochmor is anyone’s guess.”
Kaelan was quiet a moment, his gaze steady on her before he asked, “And what is your guess?”
She didn’t hesitate to share her thoughts, since the matter had been an ongoing discussion in the village. “Some say it is because war with Drogath is inevitable and the king could use the magic of Driochmor. Others believe it is because he wishes to find the healer who defies death and she can only be found in Driochmor.”
“You tell me what others guess at. What do you think?” he asked.
Bria shrugged. “I cannot begin to think what is on the king’s mind. I only hope whatever comes of it that it is good for the kingdom and its people.”
“A response one would expect of a healer,” he said with a nod. “But tell me, is healing not magic?” he asked.
The question struck sharper than the others.
Bria frowned slightly. “What I do is not magic.”
They walked on, their arms brushing lightly as the path narrowed, the contact brief yet enough to send a quiet awareness through her.
“You ease pain with a touch. You calm what troubles the body without herbs or brew. How is that not magic?” he asked.
“It is a gift,” she said, more firmly now.
“And magic is not?”
She went to pull her hand from his.
He did not let go. Not forcefully but with a quiet insistence that stopped her just the same.
Her breath caught, her gaze dropping briefly to where his fingers still held hers, warmth stirring there, then spreading, slow and unexpected, along her arm.
“It is not the same,” she said again, though there was less certainty in her voice now.
“Because you are told it is not?” he asked.
Bria lifted her chin. “Because it does not harm.”
“Nor does all magic,” he said.
A stone shifted beneath her foot, and her step faltered.
Before she could steady herself, his grip tightened just enough, his other hand coming to her arm to keep her from stumbling. The contact sent a sudden warmth through her, swift and unsettling, before he released her, though not her hand.
The warmth of his grip lingered now, no longer just a comfort, but something that stirred deeper, traveling through her in a way she could not ignore.