The Liberian

Chapter 18

“It felt like a lifetime to me.” She gave them a tired smile, knowing that they couldn’t understand.

The master adjusted his spectacles. “Well, I think it should be obvious that we are all pleased to have Vhalla with us again,” Mohned began. “Though let’s give her some air and get back to work.”

With another round of warm words and small hugs everyone parted ways, save for her, the master, and Sareem. She followed the men to the desk. “I’ll give you a very simple task today, Vhalla. Please sort through the section of potions to make sure it’s all in place.”

Pleased with this task, walking through the library was like reuniting with an old friend. Each shelf was a familiar face, many books holding memories for her as much as holding information. Vhalla spared a glance toward the mysteries section as she plunged herself into the rows about potions and putting her situation out of sight, but frustratingly not out of mind. She could go on, she realized, just like this again. Like nothing had ever happened. She could be Eradicated and put magic in the past, like a bad dream.

Her face was wet with tears again, and Vhalla mentally cursed herself for crying so much. A shelf became her support. Sliding down against it, she tilted her head back and looked up at the tall bookcases that held the books she was supposed to be sorting.As she sat there in the silence, breathing deeply and attempting to regain control of herself, Vhalla became aware of something she had yet to consider: This was the first time she had to make a choice about her future.

Her birthday was in a few days, she realized. She would be eighteen and had never made a decision for herself that mattered. Something about it terrified her; something about it shamed her; something about it pushed her forward.

Picking herself up off the floor, she began to sort books. Her mind was too occupied to read any of them. The work was solace enough this day.

The menial task kept her hands busy while Vhalla’s mind did its own sorting in the silence. By the time the closing bells rang, she had vowed that no matter what the future held she was going to make her own decision. Despite what everyone said about sorcerers, Vhalla’s short time in the Tower had shown her differently. She wasn’t about to let the whispers of common folk, or of Lords heard through a door, decide her future for her. Vhalla was stronger than that. At least, that was what she wanted to believe.

As the library staff was leaving, a small team from the Ministry of Culture carried in items to finish decorating. Vhalla wondered how soon the festival would start. It was one of the best times of the year as most of the staff was only forced to work one day so they could enjoy the festivities.

“Vhalla, come eat with us.” Sareem touched her shoulder lightly.

She didn’t feel hungry—the weight of the world filled her stomach—but Vhalla found herself agreeing nonetheless.

The dining hall was a ruckus place, full of people from all levels of the palace. It was a cavernous space with long rows of wooden tables. Clanking metal plates and glasses, conversations in a multitude of dialects, and fights and laughter rang in her ears. This reminded her why she normally didn’t eat here, but at the same time she felt nostalgic for her girlhood years when she had been more social and often ate with her peers.

Vhalla sat with Sareem at her left. Roan sat opposite Sareem. Lidia and Cadance stayed with them too, and the library staff ate and enjoyed each other’s company until Vhalla could no longer contain her yawning.

“Someone is sleepy.” Sareem rested a palm on her forehead.

“A little.” Vhalla nodded.

“You’re likely still recovering from the fever,” Lidia pointed out, her motherly instincts showing.

“Right,” she agreed softly, looking down at her fidgeting fingers. She was still recovering, which wasn’t that much of a lie. When Vhalla’s eyes raised themselves again she caught Sareem’s. He was squinting oddly, and before Vhalla could ask he was on his feet.

“Well, I think I should see Vhalla to her room, make sure she’s all right,” Sareem announced. She looked up at the man’s form. When had Sareem grown so tall?

“It’s fine, stay.” Vhalla stood, ignoring a sideways stare from Roan.

“No, no, I want to see you back,” Sareem insisted. He offered her his arm, and Vhalla took it timidly. It wasn’t the first time she had walked arm-in-arm with Sareem, but it was the first time when they weren’t kids running off to some mischief. She felt a little odd, and it wasn’t only because of the fact that Roan’s stare followed them all the way out.

They walked down the mostly-empty halls in silence. Vhalla adjusted her hand in his elbow, but he made no indication he wanted it removed. She almost jumped when his tenor voice finally broke the silence.

“Vhalla, you didn’t have Autumn Fever, did you?” Sareem asked outright.

Vhalla gaped up at him in shock. “What are you talking about? Of course I did! Where else was I?” she replied with panic.

“I don’t know.” Sareem shook his head, and there was the tell-tale severity of concern in his ocean blue eyes as he looked at her. “But, I know you already had Autumn Fever when you were a girl, and it shouldn’t put you out for a week. Plus, I can see a bandage on your forearm.”

She snatched her hand back from his elbow quickly, pushing her sleeve down. Vhalla bit her lip. What could she say?

“If anyone asks about your fever, send them to me,” he instructed.

“Why?” Vhalla asked softly, the food in her stomach churning.

“Haven’t I told you before? You’re a bad liar.” Sareem shook his head. “It’ll be more convincing if you send them to me.”

“Why would you do that?” They stopped walking before her door, and Vhalla stared up at her friend.

“Because, it might help you,” he answered, glancing away. Something suddenly felt awkward. “I don’t know why you’re lying, Vhalla. But I trust that you wouldn’t be trying to if it weren’t important. If you ever need someone to talk to, I will be there.”

“Thank you, Sareem.” Vhalla shifted her feet.

To her surprise he raised her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles lightly. “Rest well, Vhalla,” Sareem whispered, before releasing her fingers and starting back toward the dining hall.

Vhalla was helpless to do little more than watch him go in a dumbfounded silence.

TWO DAYS CAME and went with such a normalcy that it seemed slightly surreal. Vhalla returned to almost all of her usual duties. The master gave her extra leeway in the mornings to help with her recovery. While Vhalla habitually woke with the dawn, she enjoyed the extra time to relax in bed and dressed at her leisure. It caused some guilt, but there was a good deal of that feeling lately as she felt no closer to her decision regarding the Tower.

Things with Sareem had not changed after her first night back. At times she could feel a strange stare coming from his direction. Sometimes he would sit closer than normal as they hid from work on her window seat. But neither were prepared to cross the line between them.

She began to look at him differently, forcing Vhalla to think back on Roan’s words. Vhalla had so readily dismissed her friend’s inquiry about a relationship, but now she thought of it during each of Sareem’s glances. Why was he paying so much attention to her? It piled on her list of everything she would eventually sort through.

So on her birthday, she slept past dawn, curled in bed with covers pulled up over her head. As custom, Mohned had given her the day off, and she took the opportunity to sleep in. She was almost completely healed, but her body still demanded additional rest.

Or rather, it would have demanded additional rest were it not for a knock on her door. Vhalla squinted open her eyes, hoping the person would go away. But after a few moments, the second knock pulled Vhalla to her feet.

She struggled to think of who it could be. The library staff was at work by now, and Vhalla didn’t have a large number of friends. Therefore, it shouldn’t have been any surprise who greeted her.

“Larel?” she exclaimed, looking at the other woman in the black coat.

“Hello, Vhalla.” Larel flashed one of her dazzling smiles. “May I come in? I wouldn’t want anyone to notice me when I’ve avoided being observed until now.”

Vhalla nodded and moved to the side to allow her friend to pass.

Larel walked into the small space and looked around. Vhalla’s room was little more than a bed, desk, chair, closet, and mirror, but Larel’s eyes went over each. She paused a moment, staring at the closet. Right as Vhalla was about to inquire what the other woman thought she saw, Larel turn with a clap of her hands.“So! How are you feeling?” Larel led Vhalla back to the bed, and she played the patient obediently.

“Very well,” Vhalla responded.

“Good.” Larel pulled up the chair to sit across from her and started inspecting the last of Vhalla’s bruising. “You really have healed amazingly.”

This conversation felt very odd after returning to what Vhalla considered to be the real world. Intentionally or subconsciously, she had hardly given more than a passing thought to magic for almost three full days.

“Have you been experimenting?” Larel looked up from her medical diligence. Vhalla shook her head. “Any reason?”

“I don’t know what I’m doing.” Vhalla held up her leg for Larel to check the bandage on her calf.

“Hardly,” Larel remarked dryly.

“Hardly?” Vhalla tilted her head to the side, her hands stretched behind her on the small bed.

“You broke flame bulbs in the Tower,” the Western woman pointed out.

“Fritz was helping me,” Vhalla retorted. She instantly felt a pang of longing at the idea of seeing Fritz again.

“Oh, yes, Fritz is such an astounding teacher,” Larel laughed sarcastically.

Vhalla smiled despite herself, remembering the Southern man’s clumsy nature and efforts to help her understand magic. Larel may not understand, but after the minister and the prince, Vhalla thought Fritz was quite a good teacher.“Maybe for the best though,” Larel continued at Vhalla’s silence. “Without a teacher overseeing your efforts, it could be dangerous now that you’re Awoken. Has anything strange happened?”

“Strange?” Vhalla repeated.

“Yes, strange. Since you’re not actively using magic, then I need to know if your powers are seeking any outlets, such as through your emotions.” Larel’s dark eyes held a severe note.

“Oh!” Vhalla shook her head and added, “No, nothing strange.” Vhalla paused and Larel did the same. Her eyes fell on her window. “Actually, the wind feels different now. I’ve kept my windows open a lot since coming back. Well, it’s hard to explain... Like there’s something in the air. Of course you can feel the wind but...”

“I understand; fire feels different to Firebearers.” Larel combed her fingers through her bangs. “I enjoy having fire around me. In the flames I don’t feel heat, but I do feel something there, like the essence of the flame.”

“You don’t feel heat?” Vhalla blinked.