Chapter 30 - Flying Lessons

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They had talked for what felt like forever, in the dead of the night, when all was quiet and still within the House of Wind.

It wasn't like how it used to be, when they would only ask each other three questions, when their conversations were limited to only seeking answers out of one another. There wasn't much trust back then, and they were always at odds with each other. Always doubtful, always wondering if either one of them were lying, were working toward a hidden agenda with the information they gathered about one another.

The spymaster and the emissary; brought together for purely diplomatic reasons. But now, things have changed. Now it was as though they were used to one another, more comfortable with each other's presence, far more acquainted and friendly.

Friends. A strange word too, one that they wouldn't think they would use, but that they both found fit. Brianna had suggested it once, but she never would have believed that Azriel would have followed through.

Brianna didn't think she would be able to make Azriel laugh, and the shadowsinger didn't know it would be so easy to open up to a stranger in such little time. Because it didn't feel hard for him to speak, it didn't feel like he had to choose his words, to hide his emotions and cast an expression that was unreadable. He was open, as was she, and it felt normal, because they both couldn't regard one another as strangers anymore, not after the time they spent together. And even if their conversations in the night had been completely pointless, talking about the most trivial of anecdotes, of their time in the army, of their relationships with friends, it had made them know one another more. And, it had made them grow to like each other more.

And now that the sun was shining bright into Brianna's room, she lay in her spacious bed rather lazily, simply staring off into space, far too unbothered to get out of bed. Instead, she thought back of what they had talked about, but also, of what wasn't said between them.

Azriel never brought up the nightmare he had had. He never described it, never told Brianna what had disturbed him so, and she never asked, even if she had wanted to. They both subconsciously chose to never talk about how Brianna had walked in on him having it, or that Brianna had felt the urge to wake him from the torment he was feeling within.

And Brianna never told him the thoughts that swirled in her mind all night, how much Elain's vision had truly impacted her, how she had conjured up a theory purely based on it.

It could be true. Perhaps she could be cured. That would be the only possible and conceivable explanation for why Elain had such a vision.

But it could also be wishful thinking. It could also be completely wrong. It could have been all a dream, and that Brianna was only hoping that some part of it was true, when she knew the reality of the situation far too well.

She had cursed herself and she could never come back from it. It was impossible, it couldn't be done. And Brianna had to come to terms with that, had to ignore that feeling inside her that had ignited a spark of hope. Because the cynical side of her had to be more logical about the situation, had to repress that little optimistic part of her, had to silence the dreamer within.

Hope was a dangerous thing, and Brianna couldn't afford to even think of it.

And now Brianna rolled about her sheets, glancing at that mantle clock again. It was well into the afternoon; staying up in the night took a toll on her, and now she knew she would be branded as the lazy Syren who only spent her time asleep and away from everyone else.

Again, she felt a little guilty for having slept in so long, for not being a better guest to her most generous hosts. But then she wondered how she had even gotten here, into her chamber, tucked into her bed, not quite remembering the events of last night.

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