in some plan, but he didn't say what. In fact, that night in the study, he- He was going to tell me something, but didn't get a chance to. I want to understand what's going on, since it clearly affects me."
Eliar frowned. "There has been bad blood between your father and I, but I shouldn't have been so harsh with you. Calder isn't your fault. I know enough of you to be sure that you aren't like him."
"You don't know me at all."
He smiled faintly. "But I do. Samell and I kept up a correspondence over the years since I was his mentor, as best we could at least. He has written of you in his letters to me several times since you went to Voleno." Eliar sighed. "He thought quite highly of you, and I imagine he would be... well, more than disappointed with the reception I gave you."
Fay suddenly remembered the bundle of letters she had been given. She slipped out of the bed and dug them out of her bag, handing them to Eliar before getting back under the covers. He looked at her, frowning again. "He left me a caeldar, that was how I knew to come to you. He said you could help me, but he also left these for me, he said 'in case age and bitterness overcome his good sense.' I- I'm not trying to make you feel bad," she said quickly as his face fell while he looked down at the stack of folded parchment. "But I'm guessing they're your letters to him, and I think you should have them. In any case, I guess I thought that if I just got here- I didn't expect that creature- None of this is how I thought my life would go after I graduated."
She heard the frustration in her own voice and pulled her knees tighter to her chest, pressing her face into them. His voice, more gentle than she had heard him yet, said, "I will help if I can. If you'll let me. I am truly sorry, Faylanna, to have ignored everything Ganson said about your relationship with your father. If I had listened to him more carefully... Ah well, regrets are part of living to this great an age."
Lifting her head, she stared into his eyes. There was very little light in the room with only a single candle burning, and his face was shadowed, light gracing only the edges, but she could still see real remorse there. She told him about the blond man being there, about the vision of him with the dead woman, but not what he had said to her both before and after the vision. A part of her thought she should explain that as well, but those parts, like the other dreams, had seemed private, somehow just between herself and the blond man, so she kept them to herself. She also didn't mention the image of Tavis, too confused by that to know how to explain it or the feelings it had caused. She wasn't sure that his own great-grandfather was the right person to talk to about him either.
When she was done, Eliar sat down on the floor near her, his back leaning against a nearby chair from the table. By this time, she was sitting on the edge of the bed with one leg folded under her and the other trailing over the edge. He was quiet for several minutes. "Let me tell you a story in return, because this nightmare of yours sounds very much like it. A long time ago, when Ganson was a young man just graduated and I was still working on my first century, a terrible crime happened in Rianza. A young woman was killed, and her partner was accused of the murder, and something worse. The facts of the case were uncertain, as there were no witnesses and the accused was pronounced unfit after her death, but he was found alone with her body, in a scene described almost exactly as you saw it in your dream." He paused. "I find it odd that you could describe it so accurately. I saw only the aftermath, what was left after they took him away, though they did not imprison him in one of the Mirrors of Bershan immediately as your dream suggests."
"What's a Mirror of Bershan?"
"It's a special type of prison, really, or at least that's what we've been using them for. I'm not surprised you haven't heard of them. It's a very
Eliar frowned. "There has been bad blood between your father and I, but I shouldn't have been so harsh with you. Calder isn't your fault. I know enough of you to be sure that you aren't like him."
"You don't know me at all."
He smiled faintly. "But I do. Samell and I kept up a correspondence over the years since I was his mentor, as best we could at least. He has written of you in his letters to me several times since you went to Voleno." Eliar sighed. "He thought quite highly of you, and I imagine he would be... well, more than disappointed with the reception I gave you."
Fay suddenly remembered the bundle of letters she had been given. She slipped out of the bed and dug them out of her bag, handing them to Eliar before getting back under the covers. He looked at her, frowning again. "He left me a caeldar, that was how I knew to come to you. He said you could help me, but he also left these for me, he said 'in case age and bitterness overcome his good sense.' I- I'm not trying to make you feel bad," she said quickly as his face fell while he looked down at the stack of folded parchment. "But I'm guessing they're your letters to him, and I think you should have them. In any case, I guess I thought that if I just got here- I didn't expect that creature- None of this is how I thought my life would go after I graduated."
She heard the frustration in her own voice and pulled her knees tighter to her chest, pressing her face into them. His voice, more gentle than she had heard him yet, said, "I will help if I can. If you'll let me. I am truly sorry, Faylanna, to have ignored everything Ganson said about your relationship with your father. If I had listened to him more carefully... Ah well, regrets are part of living to this great an age."
Lifting her head, she stared into his eyes. There was very little light in the room with only a single candle burning, and his face was shadowed, light gracing only the edges, but she could still see real remorse there. She told him about the blond man being there, about the vision of him with the dead woman, but not what he had said to her both before and after the vision. A part of her thought she should explain that as well, but those parts, like the other dreams, had seemed private, somehow just between herself and the blond man, so she kept them to herself. She also didn't mention the image of Tavis, too confused by that to know how to explain it or the feelings it had caused. She wasn't sure that his own great-grandfather was the right person to talk to about him either.
When she was done, Eliar sat down on the floor near her, his back leaning against a nearby chair from the table. By this time, she was sitting on the edge of the bed with one leg folded under her and the other trailing over the edge. He was quiet for several minutes. "Let me tell you a story in return, because this nightmare of yours sounds very much like it. A long time ago, when Ganson was a young man just graduated and I was still working on my first century, a terrible crime happened in Rianza. A young woman was killed, and her partner was accused of the murder, and something worse. The facts of the case were uncertain, as there were no witnesses and the accused was pronounced unfit after her death, but he was found alone with her body, in a scene described almost exactly as you saw it in your dream." He paused. "I find it odd that you could describe it so accurately. I saw only the aftermath, what was left after they took him away, though they did not imprison him in one of the Mirrors of Bershan immediately as your dream suggests."
"What's a Mirror of Bershan?"
"It's a special type of prison, really, or at least that's what we've been using them for. I'm not surprised you haven't heard of them. It's a very
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