The door opened before he could knock.

"Come on in." Serande's voice greeted him with a calmness that contrasted sharply with his own restlessness.

How she'd managed to reach her house before him and even had had time to change into different clothes, eluded him. He was almost sure that there had to be a secret underground passage leading from the palace to her home or that she possessed some other type of magic that enabled her to bend the rules of space and time in her favour. Maybe it was a combination of both. With Serande, apparently anything was possible.

"I'm glad you got my message," she said nonchalantly. It was almost as if Xanthos hadn't just ordered for Rose to be hunted down and consequently all humans to be either eradicated or enslaved.

She beckoned him to follow her. "Please have a seat. I'll make us some tea." She turned towards her kettle and began rummaging in one of her cupboards.

Tea? How could she be thinking on tea now when Rose was in mortal danger?

"I really don't have much time." Andor gripped the backrest of the chair he had been told to sit on, reluctant to delay his quest longer than absolutely necessary. Sipping tea with Serande certainly wasn't at the top of his list of priorities right now.

"There's always time for a cup of tea," she said, turning around and facing him, a plate with a large slice of a delicious looking seed-cake in hand. "Besides, hastiness never did anyone anything good."

The sight and smell of the freshly baked cake made his mouth water, especially the glazed plums glistening in the dappled sunlight that filtered through the windows. He might not want to linger here, but his stomach had a mind of its own. After all, he hadn't eaten anything all day long and, to his embarrassment, the grumbling was unmistakable, even for someone not blessed with special gifts like Serande.

"Here," Serande placed the plate on the table with an inviting smile. "I take it that you're hungry. Tea will be ready in a few minutes."

"I really should be going," he said rather halfheartedly, with less conviction than he had hoped to display.

"We have things to discuss and you'll leave when we are done." The sudden surge of authority in her voice made it clear that refusing her offer wasn't an option. It was also crystal clear, just like Nebula had pointed out to him, that he could not afford to have her as his enemy.

So sit down he did, pulling the plate towards him and taking the offered fork with a grateful nod while Serande went to attend the preparation of her tea. The plum-cake was delicious, the fruits sweet and juicy, filling his empty stomach with one tasteful bite after the other. When Serande finally turned around with two steaming mugs in her hand, he was picking up the last crumbs on his plate with his fingertips.

"Want another slice? There's more than enough. Antelisse stopped by with it early this morning. She's not only a dedicated librarian but also an excellent pastry cook." Placing the mugs on the table, she reached for his empty plate and before he could protest, she had cut him another slice and handed him back the plate.

"Thank you," he said, swallowing his embarrassment at his obvious ravenous hunger. He pulled the mug closer and inhaled the curly steam wafting above the rim. It smelled of cinnamon and clover, spicy and sweet. He took one tentative sip, aware of its possible scalding hot temperature, and he couldn't deny that it was equally delicious, cocooning his insides like a velvet blanket. He closed his eyes and allowed himself one brief moment of respite, of regathering his strength and sharpening his wits, as he would have dire need of both for what surely lay ahead of him.

"Let's get down to business then, shall we?" Serande's determined voice drew him out of his mellow daze, catapulting him back to the present, unwelcome as it was.

"Yes, of course." He placed the cup back on the table and shoved down another quick bite of the cake before turning his attention to Serande, who was now eyeing him with her usual sharpness.

"What exactly happened at the Heart of the Forest today?" Serande prompted him, her slender fingers gripping her own mug and turning it around slowly in her hands.

"That's what I wanted to know from you," Andor countered, slightly perplexed.

Serande raised one eyebrow, her fingers stopping their circular motion. "To be able to answer your question, I need you to answer mine first."

"Fine," he sighed. It wasn't worth wasting time arguing with Serande, not if he wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible. "I did everything the way you've told me, the words and the phial. It all seemed to be working just fine. Rose—" he paused as her naked body took shape in his mind's eye. He couldn't allow himself to be distracted by her soft skin and delicate curves now, so he pushed away the tantalising image. "She was disoriented at first, but unharmed. I poured the content of the second phial on the ground beside her. That's when things started taking a strange turn. I had not forgotten your warning of what would happen if both souls were to exist side by side, so I made sure to get Rose away from the glade as fast as possible."

He swallowed past the growing lump in his throat as the image of her retreating shape resurfaced in his mind. He had given back life while unknowingly dealing out another death-sentence. Suddenly, panic struck him again. What if Drakon was already on her heel, catching up with her? He shifted in his seat.

Serande nodded slowly, apparently oblivious to his restlessness. "How exactly did things take a strange turn?"

"I don't know. It's hard to explain." This was taking too long already but if he was to satisfy his own curiosity, he needed to first satisfy Serande's. "It's as if all the flowers had awoken too, but in a ghostly way, not as their real selves. They seemed to be mere shadows rising from the grass. It reminded me of the Marshes of Tharûn. Not that I have ever set foot in that cursed place, but I have heard the tales."

"I see." Serande nodded pensively and took a long sip from her mug. "This is rather strange indeed." She lightly tapped her mouth with her index finger, her golden bracelets jingling softly with the motion. "Even though not entirely unexpected," she added in a whispered voice as if she didn't intend for Andor to hear her words. "But what has been done cannot be undone. We must adapt to the new situation and speed up our plans." She gesticulated with her hands in the air while her mind seemed to conjure up a new updated version of whatever had been her plan before. "This is just a small drawback. Everything is still under control."

"Under control?" Andor stiffened in his seat, anger zapping through his veins like lightning. "Xanthos knows that Rose is gone and he has sent Drakon to hunt her down. He's going to close off Elysse. How is that a small drawback? Nothing is under control!" The blood pounded through his veins and he had to fight the sudden urge to bend the innocent fork he still held in his hands. His pent-up frustration was dangerously close to explode into full blown rage.

"I understand that you are upset, but you must not let your anger guide you. Anger is a bad advisor, trust me. It makes you do reckless things and this is not something you want to do in this precarious situation." She raised her eyebrows. "Yes, Xanthos having found out so soon about our little game of deception is unfortunate, but it's nothing that cannot be handled."

"Is it?" Andor dropped the fork, fighting to keep his emotions in check.

"Are you doubting my abilities?"

"No, of course not. I would never." Hoping to recover his composure, he took a deep breath.

"Good. May I remind you that I have kept up my end of the bargain. Now it is time that you kept yours. Remember, we are doing all this for Elysse, for our people."

"I haven't forgotten about that." What he didn't say was that he had hoped she wouldn't hold him to his promise right away. That he would be given time; time to come to terms with all that had happened over the course of just a few days. Yet it was clear this would not be the case.

Leaning back in her chair, Serande shot him a levelled gaze. "Difficult times are lying ahead of us, but if we want a better future for Elysse, one that is not built on eradicating the human race," she paused to throw him a meaningful glance, "then sacrifices are going to be necessary on our part."

Dread coiled in Andor's stomach, the effect of the calming tea evaporating like rain on a sun-drenched rock. "What kind of sacrifices?" He wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer, as it could only be unpleasant.

"Well, for one, you cannot, and I cannot stress this enough, under no circumstances try to leave Elysse."

"But I need to—" he wanted to protest, but Serande shot him a reprimanding glare.

"I know what you plan to do." The sudden cutting edge to her voice struck him like an icy blade. "Don't try to deny it. It's written all over your face and I don't need to be a Seer to put two and two together to guess what's on your mind."

He raised his chin and met her gaze, her dark eyes clashing with his golden ones, challenging him.  The silence stretched between them like the string of a pulled back bow, but he wouldn't budge. His mind was set, and nothing she said could change that.

When Serande spoke again, it was with a faint hint of annoyance. "I know you're as stubborn as they come, Andor, but believe me, this is not the moment to follow your own personal agenda. Much greater things are at stake here than the life of one single human."

Andor wasn't surprised by her words. Of course, she would play the card of the greater good, except that this time, he wasn't willing to accept the hand she dealt him.

"Let me word it in a different way," she continued, "by going after this one girl to save her from harm, you might doom hundreds or even thousands more to death, men, women, and children. And believe it or not, I am trying to prevent the king from wreaking havoc among the humans and dragging our own people into a possible war, even if it means sacrificing one of them in the process."

"But she deserves to live as much as the others. You may accept her death as an unfortunate casualty along the way, but I won't." He straightened in his seat to underline the seriousness of his statement.

Serande let out a deep sigh and planted her palms on the table.

"Don't you see this as what it is, a trap, the king sealing the portal trees? If anyone is caught near them, even just looking at them in a strange way, it will mark them as suspicious. You need to lie low for a while. I can keep Eldoran off your back, but only if you don't attract more attention to yourself by doing something reckless. Otherwise I might not be able to guarantee your safety."

"You can't expect me to just stand by and do nothing while they are out there chasing after Rose!" Despair seeped into his voice. He barely managed to push it back down, forcing it into the depths of his chest, where it would be safely hidden away from Serande's prying mind.

"Oh yes, you can and will do nothing." She tapped a finger on the table to emphasise her point. "You are a too valuable player in all this. I won't allow you to risk the success of our plan over your infatuation with this girl. She is back in her own world. She will know how to defend herself if it came to it. Her life isn't your responsibility any more, but your people are. It lies in our hands to prevent this war, but I need you with me, and not rotting away in the king's dungeons."

He wanted to say that he didn't care about his people, but that would have been a lie. He did care, mostly about his friends, the children he tutored, and of course his family, especially his little brother Tin. If any harm came to them because of his recklessness, he would never forgive himself. Hadn't he already endangered his friends by allowing them to accompany him to the glade? If Xanthos wasn't picky as to whom he arrested—and Andor knew as much that he wasn't—their mere presence at the Heart of the Forest would be enough to mark them as traitors too. After all, they had witnessed everything. Elia had even gone so far as to supply clothes for Rose and helped her get dressed. And his parents. They had warned him clearly not to stand in Xanthos's way. What if Eldoran also rounded them up as suspects, the parents of a possible traitor? His father's words rang in his ears. "Whatever you do, don't forget that you are one of us."

No, he could not forget that, nor would he risk the safety of those who were dear to him.

But where did that leave Rose? She was as innocent as them in all of this. None of them deserved to fall into Xanthos's hands, but it seemed that no matter what he decided, someone would inevitably come to harm.

Torn between two irreconcilable sides, Andor couldn't help but feel progressively dreadful.

How was he supposed to make a choice? Did he even have to make a choice? Wasn't there a way  to keep everyone safe?

His thoughts whirled through his head like leaves caught in a gust of autumn wind, making it impossible to focus.

"But I need to make sure that she's safe," he began, unsure of how to proceed. "There has to be a way, even if I can't leave Elysse."

"There is a way if you know how to use it." Serande gave him a long look.

"There is?" Andor almost didn't dare to trust the flicker of hope kindling in his chest.

"Do you still have the Elantymon I gave you?"

"Yes, I do." He could feel the reassuring weight of the hemisphere in the pocket of his tunic.

"And what did you do with the other half?" Serande subtly tilted her head as if she knew the answer to her question already.

"I gave it to Rose, but I couldn't explain to her what it does and even if I had, I'm quite sure that Rose wouldn't want to have anything to do with something belonging to me. She has probably thrown it away by now." The way she had glared daggers at him suggested that this was a likely possibility.

Serande narrowed her eyes. "I don't think so. You would have felt it if it wasn't with her anymore." She held out her hand to him across the table. "Show me the stone."

Andor reached into the pocket and pulled out the rose quartz which felt strangely warm in his palm, as if it were alive and not made of stone at all. Reluctantly, he let it drop into Serande's outstretched hand.

She peered into the polished surface, the white veins crisscrossing it beginning to gleam and illuminating her face. "Solid matter does not hinder the two Elantymons to speak to each other, nor does great distance, only when it has parted from its rightful owner, will it shut down the connection as to avoid exposing the owner of the other half." She handed him back the stone, the gleam on the surface gone again. "It's quite simple really. Find a way to make her use the Elantymon and there is no need for you to leave Elysse."

Serande made it sound like it was the easiest thing, yet Andor had no idea how he might convey the message to Rose that she needed to speak to him through a device she wasn't even aware could function as a means of communication. In short, it was complicated, as always.

"In the meantime, you will keep a low profile and I will send for you when I have need of you."  Suddenly, Serande rose from her seat and Andor followed suit. Apparently, he was dismissed. She collected the mugs and his plate and placed it on her kitchen counter.

Facing him, she said, "Your mother has asked me for some of my angelica roots, since hers didn't grow well this year. If you have another brief moment of your time, I shall gather them and you can take them to Meril."

"Yes, of course." His urgency to leave was somewhat subdued, replaced by the wheels of his mind working overtime, trying to find a way how he could get Rose to use the Elantymon.

He watched Serande exit the room and enter the small garden that extended at the back of her house. When she busied herself with a wicker basket and disappeared between the rows of thyme and basil, he drew his gaze away. His hand went again to the Elantymon in his pocket, when, on a narrow shelf beside him, a familiar sight caught his eye.

Rose's book.

He was by no means an expert in books, but there could be no doubt that this was the one he had brought Serande. Why didn't she keep it in a more secure place, but right here where every visitor could see it? He quickly peeked through the back door and when he was sure that Serande wasn't about to come barging in, he carefully pulled the leather-bound volume from the shelf. He had looked at it already once and found it to be unsettling to say the least. That initial impression still held true. There was a bookmark tucked away between the pages and he was curious to see what Serande had marked.

He wasn't the fastest in deciphering the Ancient Tongue, so it took him longer than what he wanted to read the title of the page.

To Right an Ancient Wrong - Seven Ways to Defeat Black Magic

A shiver skittered down his spine. What was Serande doing dabbling in black magic? Even if it was to supposedly defeat it, it still sounded wrong to meddle in such affairs.

As he was closing the book, he noticed that the bookmark was actually a paper that didn't look like it belonged with the book or even with Serande. It looked decidedly too human with sequences of little numbers printed all over it, the name The Boisterous Boar Inn written in bold lettering and—Rose.

Her name was on the paper, as was an address.

His heart did a weird flip in his chest and before he could think if what he was doing was reckless or stupid, he took the paper and slipped it into the pocket of his tunic, quickly replacing the book on the shelf. If he was lucky, Serande wouldn't notice. She was only interested in the book itself. He doubted she would miss a random paper. 

"Here are the roots." Serande had silently walked into the room, and handed him now a small cloth pouch stuffed with whatever it was his mother needed.

"Thank you." He took the pouch, hoping that Serande could not see the guilt on his face. If she could, she didn't say anything about it.

"Just tell her to use it sparsely, as it is quite potent when harvested in the autumn of its first year."

"I will," he promised and then turned to go.

"Good bye, Andor," Serande called, when he was already by the door.

"Good bye," he replied over his shoulder as he let himself out.

He lingered for a moment in front of Serande's house, when he realised that she had never answered his question about what had really happened at the glade with those ghostly shadows. It probably didn't matter any more if he knew or not.

The dam that held things together had been torn down and the best he could do now was to go with the flow and hope that he wouldn't drown in the flood that was going to sweep over Elysse soon enough.

Author's Notes: Thank you for reading, voting, and commenting! I hope you've enjoyed this chapter. There's one more from Andor's POV before we get back to Rose!

Stay tuned for the next update!