The mood on top of the cliffs of Lone Peak did not reflect the brightening spring outside its walls.
Holve had engrossed himself deeper and deeper into searching the libraries for maps, legends, and histories of the continent looking for some clue about the mysterious tree they sought.
Ealrin was torn between his desire to help Holve and search the catacombs for the lost piece of their puzzle and his constant reminding of Blume that she ought to be practicing her speaking.
Currently, all three were on a morning long search through another section in Lone Peak's massive library. Holve had disappeared a few minutes ago to get more books to search through. Blume was half buried behind their current pile on a large oak table used for study and reading.
Maps of every city, forest, and ship trade route were drawn into the large green tome she was flipping through now. Ealrin wanted to try to talk to her about more than her need to practice magic, but found it difficult. He turned another page in the book of leaders of Lone Peak and their accomplishments. The movement made him wince.
A bandage wrapped around his shoulder was a constant reminder that he had gone out to search for her and been injured in the process. If he admitted it to himself, he might have realized he was beyond relieved to know that she had come home safely. But the pain in his shoulder reminded him daily that due to her irresponsibility, he had been gravely wounded.
Another part of him wished that Blume had her magical abilities back. Not so she could heal his shoulder, though that certainly would have been a perk. He wanted her to have her self-confidence back.
He had seen her bring people back from the point of death. She had once even healed herself from a terrible wound, which according to Holve was a great feat of magic.
Now she appeared to have given up magic altogether and spent nearly as much time as Holve in the library, searching the books.
He wondered if she was doing it in order to apologize for her reckless behavior.
Dexer, her instructor, had not asked about her recently. His student, Jurgon, was his star pupil.
The halfling's skills were improving greatly.
He, like Blume, had been taught on his own. Both of their cases were extremely rare as most speakers needed a great deal of training to gain any sort of ability. But Blume, unlike Jurgon, seemed to have lost all of her magic ability with no sign of it coming back.
Ealrin wondered how long he would hold this grudge towards her. He felt it strange to be so wounded by someone so young whom he cared so much for. But as he looked at her now, pouring over an ancient tome, she looked less like a scared little girl from a devastated demolished hometown and more like a young woman who was a little lost as she searched for who she was.
Sighing deeply, looking overwhelmed with the book she was reading, she looked up and caught his eyes. He quickly closed his book, got up and walked down in between two shelves of books. He just couldn't bring himself to speak to her yet.
Absentmindedly, he wandered down an aisle marked “Festivals and Traditions,” not seeing who was standing right in front of him.
"You're going to have to talk to her eventually," Holve said, startling Ealrin.
He looked up to see Holve holding three rolled up scrolls in his hand, heading for the same table Blume was sitting at.
"What?" Ealrin said not really having heard the words, but rather just registering that he had grabbed a book off the shelf in an attempt to look busy.
"Talk to her," Holve said flatly. "You two are making it feel like winter in here. I've never been around two people more agitated with each other and unwilling to talk about it."
He shoved past Ealrin and headed for the table, depositing his scrolls on it and carefully unrolling the first one he came to. Ealrin grabbed another book off the shelf, took a deep breath, and returned to the table by Blume and Holve.
“You scared me,” he said, looking down at Blume.
She didn't look back up at him, but turned the page of the book she was looking over instead. Ealrin looked to Holve. The man was the best strategist he had ever seen. On Ruyn he had led armies to victory against overwhelming odds. Surely he could help Ealrin talk to this growing teenage girl?
The older man looked at Ealrin, then at Blume, and then back to Ealrin.
Something in this gesture said to him, “Try harder.”
“You really shouldn't have been out so late, Blume,” he continued, feeling awkward. “It wasn't safe.”
Blume closed the book in front of her and looked up at Ealrin.
“And you've never done something that was dangerous before, right?” she asked him. For the first time in weeks, she caught his gaze and he didn't look away. Her eyes felt like they were trying to bore holes into him.
“I don't go running off putting myself into danger, if that's what you mean,” Ealrin replied, feeling his face getting warmer.
“Oh, so leading troops into battle isn't something we're talking about anymore?” Blume shot back. “Or chasing after some demon alone? Or how about asking an assassin for a helping hand?”
Ealrin's face was hot now.
“That's not what I'm saying! That's different!”
“Completely different than me riding a horse out in the country for a bit? Good. I'm glad we've cleared that up so that I can go riding again without you worrying that I'm not coming back.” Blume was on her feet now. She was still a good head shorter than Ealrin. Her blonde hair was coming out of the braid she had put it in and was flying at odd angles.
It gave the impression of a fire being lit.
“You said yourself you almost got killed by Wrents!” Ealrin shot back. “And I got mangled by one looking for you!”
“I didn't ask you to come looking for me!” she shouted back at him. “And I made it back just fine, thank you.”
“Because Jurgon was with you!” Ealrin argued, his own voice rising.
There was the sound of a few people clearing their throats. The three of them were not the only ones in the library. An old woman in a brown robe was shuffling towards their table, looking weary and upset.
“This is a library!” she whisper shouted. “Please keep your voices down!”
“So I can't take care of myself? Is that what you're saying?” Blume yelled back at Ealrin, ignoring the librarian and pointing a finger at Ealrin. “Because I've done a pretty fair job of looking out for myself in a tight spot, you know!”
Angry words were bubbling out of Ealrin before he could stop them.
“But if you can't do magic then...”
His sentence would remain unfinished. Blume threw a stack of books from the table onto the floor, causing the librarian to cover her eyes at the sight of so many volumes being mistreated. Before Ealrin could try to step over the pile of books, Blume was running in the direction of the door.
“Blume!” Ealrin shouted after her, knowing full well his voice would not call her back.
“Please! Sir!” the librarian implored, waving her arms in an attempt to quiet Ealrin. “If you have an disagreement with the young lady please shout at one another outside!”
“I wasn't shouting!” Ealrin said in a voice that was just loud enough to qualify as such.
From several balconies above them, people were glancing down over the railing to see what all the commotion was about. Holve turned his piece of paper over, took out a pipe from his coat pocket, and lit it.
Small puffs of smoke were coming from the side of his mouth in moments. The librarian was bent over, salvaging any book she could reach and tutting every discarded volume.
“I'd go after her,” he said in a calm voice that did not reflect how Ealrin felt at all.
Ealrin wanted to run after Blume. He wanted to tell her she couldn't ever leave the walls again. He was scared for her. There was nothing he wanted more than to keep her safe and he couldn't do that if she kept running into danger on purpose.
He made a few steps before Holve spoke after him.
“And this time,” he said as he examined his paper a little more closely, pointing is finger at an intricate drawing. “I'd start with 'I'm sorry.'”