Sodden and miserable, everyone halted for a mid-day meal. Edileth and her companions formed a tight circle, huddling together to gain any warmth possible. The rain had pounded incessantly, and the wind had only worsened the situation, sending icy-cold drops of precipitation beneath skirts and cloaks. Even as the elves began eating, the sky released a steady drizzle.

Yena fussed over Marrik, tut-tutting the predicament as she fought to keep his wound dry.

"Oi, why don't ya just cover his stichin's?"

"Gracious, no; that would not do. His incision must stay clean, dry, and uncovered."

Looking like a drowned rat, Torben crouched beside Marrik. Taking care to keep his actions out of sight of Jich's party, he held his hand parallel to Marrik's wound. Rainwater dripped from his palm as he whispered foreign words. Edileth detected a subtle blue glow that soon dissipated. Once finished, Torben returned to his place and Yena sat beside him, planting a kiss on his wet cheek.

Edileth studied his face, recalling how surprised she had been when she first met him several summers past. She had never seen an elf with such signs of age. Even the oldest elves she had met possessed only the faintest lines of wrinkling. Torben's aging surpassed even theirs, subtle though the difference was. She was led to believe he had seen just over sixty summers, but as she took in the details of his features, she wondered if he was not older than she had been told.

As if feeling her gaze upon him, Torben turned to Edileth. "Enári?"

"Forgive me, Uncle. I was lost in thought."

"Don't become too lost; we have need of you yet on Naine Mithale." He smiled, and Edileth returned the gesture.

She tucked her head farther into the drenched fabric of the hood. Quivering with chill, she continued taking surreptitious glances at Torben.

'Seems rather old, don't he?'

Edileth tensed at the sound of Sheem's voice. When she felt a gentle tap on her right shoulder, she turned.

If Torben had appeared like a drowned rat, Sheem seemed like one that had then been flattened under a wagon's wheel. His matted hair hung in odd clumps and his fair skin seemed paler still. His clothes, which she now realized were too small for his growing body, clung to his lanky frame.

A deep sense of pity rose in Edileth and – defying her will – tears threatened to fill her eyes.

"What's this?" Torben's voice returned Edileth's attention to the others.

She placed her hand on the boy's shoulder and introduced him to her companions. "He goes by Sheem. He has no family."

"You are welcome to join our humble group, Sheem." Yena smiled as she looked between him and Edileth.

Sheem expressed his gratitude and settled next to Edileth. She pulled her pack into her lap and retrieved the spare woolen cloak she had been reserving until the rain ceased. She offered it to Sheem and he – with wide eyes and lifted brows – accepted the gift.

'Thank you.' He wrapped the cloak about his shoulders and began pulling the hood over his head.

Edileth stopped him, placing a hand on his. She had retrieved a parcel of vaile and, after placing it in his lap, took a comb from her pack. When she tried to give him the comb, Sheem looked at it as though he had never seen one.

"Your hair is a mess. I thought you might wish to get some of the knots out. It will be more comfortable."

Sheem blinked twice and glanced at the comb again. Then – using one hand to eat the vaile and the other taking hold of the comb – he attacked the ratted disarray that was his hair. Edileth's brows lifted, and she bit her lip to restrain the laughter trying to burst from her. Sheem 'combed' his hair with all the delicacy of a warrior slaughtering his enemy on the battlefield.

"Let me show you." Edileth took the wide-toothed comb and held a small section of Sheem's hair. Using small, gentle strokes, she began running the comb through, holding the locks to the side so he could watch her method. "See, the trick is starting at the end and gradually working your way up. You won't have to pull so hard, and you'll lose less hair."

Edileth revealed a small smile and offered the comb to Sheem again. He shook his head, asking her a question past the vaile in his mouth.

"Could you do it for me?" Noting her hesitation, Sheem swallowed the food and rubbed the back of his hand over his lips. "Just this once?"

"I suppose."

She shifted to tend to Sheem more easily. With an odd quivering in her stomach, Edileth took his wet hair in her hand and set to work. It was difficult with the old, intricate braids that had come together and were now an untidy conglomeration. After some time, Edileth was able to run the comb through Sheem's hair unhindered. She decided to take advantage of the change in weather; the drizzling rain had let up and was no more than a mist.

Taking a small strip of dry fabric from her pack, she used it to absorb some of the excess moisture from Sheem's hair. Edileth then gathered his locks into a simple braid. By the time she had finished, he had devoured the vaile and sat with his eyes closed.

"It's finished."

Sheem opened his indigo eyes and smiled up at Edileth. She gave a half-smile in return and cleared her throat as a strange warmth filled her. Glancing toward the others in the group, Edileth felt her face flush. They all watched her with expressions of bewilderment, widening eyes, lifting brows, or tilting heads.

'You ain't really one for showin' kindness.'

"Aren't," Edileth muttered. Then she continued in her mind. What are you implying?

'I thought you were rude to me because you didn't know me. But it seems like you ai-aren't nice to anyone.'

Edileth chose not to respond. She knew she had an abrasive personality. Her Gift, and the life it provided her, had shaped her into the guarded rothnak she now was. And it seemed, no matter how often she read from Aór Mirnen, she could not find the ability to change herself. The last thing she needed was to hear a lecture from a child.

'You can ignore me all you like. But that's gonna change to-night.'

She finished her vaile and shrugged the cloak further about her shoulders.

'Celik was right. You're stubborn.'

That evening, Celik volunteered to help with the night watch. Jich barely allowed his dark eyes to rest on the Kenim Naduhl and waved a hand for him to follow before he turned away from the Ferlian group. Sheem had been as a shadow to Edileth, walking beside her as she looked after Marrik and following her as she set out her damp bedding. In fact, the boy seemed to get on quite well with Marrik. Edileth was amazed to learn that the scholar could speak in plain terms and was brilliant with children. As she recalled Sheem's laughter at Marrik's jests and exaggerated facial expressions, Edileth found her gaze drifting to the subject of her musing.

She studied Marrik, noticing for the first time how at ease he was among her other companions. He was quick to laugh and quicker to encourage others to join him. Though he had been born in Si-ol, Marrik had held on to a child-like sense of joy and wonder.

It's easy when you haven't been burdened with a curse.

Ignoring the voice that told her she was as much to blame as her Gift, Edileth turned to Sheem. He was seated beside her, waiting for her to acknowledge his mental question.

'Well? Are you ready?'

Not particularly. But I don't imagine you'll leave me be until I've humoured you. Let us begin.

Sheem crossed his arms and lifted his chin as a lopsided grin spread over his face.

'I suppose we ought to start with the basics,' he began. 'Your níadh.'

You said that is my mental aura, correct?

'That's what it is. It's the part of you what has the ability to leave your body. Although, technically, even renthlorak have a níadh. The only difference is they ain't got–'

Don't have. Edileth interrupted Sheem; he sighed before continuing.

'They don't have the ability to do anything with theirs. Point being, what we can do with our níadh's is what makes us special.'

I'm well aware of the bane that afflicts me.

A shuffling sound came from her right. Glancing in his direction, Edileth found that Sheem had turned to study her face. She lifted her chin and cocked a brow. "What is so fascinating that you feel the need to stare?"

"Maybe he's 'namoured with yer ferocity. I'd wager he fancies himself yer wee 'pprentice."

Joenek laughed and added his own thoughts. "You did seem ready to kill something, or someone."

"Hush, Mnorthic, Aemic. She possesses a tender heart beneath her disagreeable exterior, whether she wants to acknowledge the fact or not." Yena shifted her gaze to Edileth with a smile.

"I was contemplating a grave matter."

Arun and Joenek sniggered, passing whispers between themselves. Clenching her jaw, Edileth turned her back to the group and lay down. She heard Marrik's whispered comment.

"You ought to have more consideration for you cousin. You have forgotten what she has endured?"

An ache gripped her chest at his words. There were murmured apologies from Arun and Joenek, but Edileth barely paid them heed. She felt Sheem's níadh brush against her own, their mental connection unsevered.

'Edileth, reach for my níadh.'

Despite her disinterest in using her ability, Edileth felt her mind extend toward Sheem's. She sensed empathy and admiration from the boy. Then, as though of its own accord, she felt her níadh shift and enter the aura of Sheem's mind. Once there, she felt his níadh guide her past thoughts and memories that flitted by too quickly to comprehend. Edileth soon found herself viewing the world through Sheem's eyes. She fought the anxiety that rose as she recalled Sheem's comment about elves being trapped within their níadhs and wondered if the principle applied when one was within the mind of another.

Sheem stared into the dark horizon, where a faint line appeared between the plains and the clouded sky above. Together, in one mind, Edileth and Sheem gazed at the dark, swirling cloud-cover. For the first time in days, she felt calm, relaxed, and she knew that Sheem was experiencing a similar feeling.

'The Gift we share can be a beautiful thing.'

Edileth inhaled, filling her lungs with the metallic scent of the rain-washed earth. Releasing the breath in a slow exhale, she responded. There are benefits. But it is also dangerous. I do not desire this; I never requested that such a Gift be given to me.

'It's true that we ain't – aren't – given a choice in what Gifts we're born with, if any. But Feridh knows what we need; He knows which Gift will best help us serve Him.'

You, you're a Ferlian.

Sheem's laughter rang in her mind. 'Not a member of The Order or nothin'. But the elves what raised me were devout followers. Seems it aren't so popular these days.'

Edileth ignored the lad's poor grammar, too surprised and pleased by the discovery to bother with correcting him. If you should ever desire to read Aór Mírnen, I have a copy with me.

'Wouldn't want to impose or nothin', but if it's not asking too much, could I read it now?'

Sheem looked away from the horizon, and Edileth watched through his eyes as he turned around and leaned close to her.

It is no trouble. Only, how do I get back to my own mind?

Again, she heard his laughter.

'A bit hopeless, ain'tcha? Guess it's only natural, though. If you focus on your own níadh, you'll find it'll automatically guide you back.'

Inhaling, Edileth focused all her thought on her mental aura. Just as Sheem had claimed, the moment she did this, Edileth felt a gentle tug. Following the sensation, she shifted through his níadh until she was able to slip back into her own mind. She gave an odd shiver and opened her eyes. Sitting up, Edileth opened her pack – which she had been using as a makeshift pillow – and thought of her Holy book. Her fingers soon touched the well-worn surface of Aór Mírnen.

"Seems like ages have passed since I saw a copy of Aór Mírnen."

Edileth released a breathy laugh. "Ages? You cannot be more than ten summers."

"I'm fifteen. Anyway, I've seen enough of the world to make me wiser'n most my age."

Edileth lifted a brow. Before she could comment, Sheem extended his hand.

"May I?"

"Verily. But tell me, little seer, how do you intend to read without light?"

Though she could no longer see the features of Sheem's face, she felt his mischievous amusement.

"Watch."

He took the book from Edileth as though it were an infant. Holding it, still bound, in one hand, Sheem used his other to make a flourishing motion. A subtle, glimmering glow in golden hues surrounded the book. As the shimmering colour dissipated, Sheem unwound the cord and opened the tome. Edileth's eyes widened.

All the text within glowed with a faint light so that it stood out in the darkness. Fascinated, Edileth held her hand over the lettering; the glow was not reflected onto her skin.

"Remarkable. Would that I had possessed such a skill in Kerindh. I was ever facing Diathra's discipline for remaining awake into the early hours of the morn. I once caused a fire with my late-night adventuring."

"You started a fire?"

"It was only a very small one. But Diathra seemed to think me capable of destroying the entire keep. I was quite young and – owing to my voracious hunger for tales of old – more than a little dramatic. Though I had only singed my hair and the corner of a blanket while attempting to read by the glow of a candle, I was certain Diathra would banish me to the Demon Crags of Ormnoyr."

"Who's Diathra?"

"She was responsible for looking after me. It hadn't been voluntary, which likely explains her lack of affection. All the same, she corrected me when I behaved poorly and ensured that I was educated in more subjects than most orphans have the privilege of learning."

"You're an orphan." There was a tone of surprise in Sheem's voice, matched by the impression she felt from his níadh.

"I am. I know nothing of my parentage apart from names and rumours. I learned that Lord Dhain – the previous baron of Kerindh – had promised to watch over me; he seemed to have known my father, but never spoke of the matter."

Sheemnodded, and then the discussion returned to Aór Mírnen. For the nextthree-quarters of an hour, they read and discussed the teachings within.

Author's note: This chapter has been updated/edited/revised (as of 2021-05-20)