Page 79 of Shadowvein

The bread is still warm. The fruit resembles apples, but tastes sharper, with hints of something like cinnamon. I eat and watch the activity around the main table.

Varam stands close beside Sacha, pointing at different locations on the map as others listen intently. The dynamic has shifted dramatically since yesterday. Though Varam commands respect from the others, every gaze gravitates toward the tall, black-clad figure beside him. Despite his long absence, his authority seems to have reasserted itself without any apparent effort.

More people arrive, each one approaching Sacha with a nod and a brief touch of fist to chest—a gesture that speaks of loyalty, maybe reverence. Some look shocked when they see him, others appear awestruck. One woman actually steps back in surprise before composing herself, listening avidly when Sacha speaks to her.

Every movement around that table reinforces what I’ve already been feeling. He knows the language, the layout, the people. And the more they look at him, the further I feel from anything solid. Like he’s anchoring to this place, while I'm still trying to find my footing.

“Neresh valan selurin,” Mira says, drawing my attention back to her. She taps her chest. “Mira.” Then she points at me. “Ellie.”

Basic introductions, I think. “Yes, I’m Ellie.”

She smiles. “Vashna.” She touches her fingers to her lips, then repeats the word.

“Vashna.” I have no idea what she means.

She points to the fruit. “Namash.”

“Namash.”

“Meravak.” She taps the cup.

“Meravak.” I lift the cup, and sniff the liquid. It smells nothing like tea or coffee.

She continues listing objects, pausing while I repeat them.

The table isselva, the cup issavrik,the chambermereshvar. She’s patient, correcting my pronunciation until I get each word right. Each syllable catches awkwardly in my throat. Shaped for a mouth that isn’t mine.

Mira doesn't laugh. She just says them again, slower, as if time is something she has more than enough to give. Every smile from her feels like a small victory, a tiny piece of independence reclaimed.

Across the room, voices rise and fall. Hands gesture emphatically over maps. One man pounds his fist on the table, making me look up in time to see him silenced by a single look from Sacha.

Whoever they are, they follow him. And every bowed headmakes it harder to reconcile the man I shared water with in the dunes, the one who walked beside me in the sand, with this one.

Mira follows my gaze, but doesn’t comment. Instead, she keeps the lesson moving, drawing simple symbols on a scrap of parchment to illustrate words harder to act out.

While Sacha seems to be taking command of a room I can’t enter, Mira keeps handing me rope. Word by word, I’m learning how not to drown.

The focus helps. It gives me something to hold onto. A way to be useful. Something that’s mine.

It distracts me from the meeting just feet away, and from the man who seems to turn into someone new every time I look at him.

A young woman enters the room, and approaches Sacha. She bows, and he breaks off what he’s doing to listen. Their exchange is brief, and though I can’t understand a single word, Icansee how the tension spikes in the room. Several people gather up the scrolls spread across the table.

Mira rises to her feet. “Ravencross meresh?”

I shake my head, not understanding. Sacha’s voice cuts through the low murmur of voices.

“She’s offering to show you around Ravencross.”

He’s behind me again, quiet as ever, always just there when I stop looking.

“It would be good for you to look around. And perhaps safer than remaining here while we discuss … technical matters.”

His phrasing doesn’t fool me. This isn’t about sightseeing. It’s a polite way to say he doesn’t want me here. Part of me bristles at beingsent away like a child. But another part, the part that’s been counting cracks in the stone and pretending to understand the language flung around me, welcomes the move. To breathe. To be anywhere but trapped in this room.

“That would be nice.”

He turns to Mira, speaking rapidly. She nods and bows. He turns back to me.

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