
Sybel imagined a polearm with a spike at the end, coated with some vague, amorphous substance. Eleret’s description left things to be desired, but her imagination could fill in the blanks. It was that damned language barrier, an obstacle only overcome by time. ”I see,” she mused, turning the idea over in her mind. ”Perhaps you could show me on our journey.” Eleret surely intended to take it with her. Traveling without a weapon, even in company, was not advisable among the treacherous wilds of Mizahar.
The next phase of their discussion however, gave Sybel much to consider. Eleret hadn’t revealed much beyond her hobbies. Their reasons for traveling such a great distance were disturbingly similar. ”Did I ever tell you the reason I came to Mura?” This was more rhetorical. Of course she hadn’t. ”I’ve been there before. When I was a younger woman, I found myself living amongst the mysterious horse clans of the Drykas. Their whole lifestyle pertains to riding creatures like Eplah and they have some of the fastest mounts in the land.” How to continue? ”I befriended a Konti there, born of a second wife. Her name was Kavala.” She smiled faintly at the image.
”She too, disappeared on her way to the city of her people. I have traveled there in search many times, but all to no avail.” She sighed. ”If I can help you find your sister, I will. I don’t have many resources but I can offer my skills as need be. I’ve been to Zeltiva before and I have some contacts there.” The nostalgia was painful. From her speech, it was easily inferred that Sybel and Kavala had a close relationship, at one time.
”Tanroa and Dira are an unforgiving pair,” she said, suddenly abstracted. ”With one, you still never have certainty of the other. Time passes and she is still gone, but I can never find peace in my heart.” With sympathetic eyes, she turned up to face her mounted companion. ”I won’t let it happen to another.” Their lesson was temporarily forgotten.
