Unfamiliar with anything other than Andaris's red light district and shopping markets, Lorena spent the better part of two trials in search of her cousin. Rumour had it that Elyna had killed their uncle Veljorn during the war Vaughn had spoken in the letters he had sent to Lorena in Ne'haer.
When they were little Lorena had admired the skyrider as an older sister and even took the time to teach her older cousin to read and write, eagerly putting extra work in to prevent Elyna from being told off. For so many arcs she had looked after Ely, doing whatever she could for the woman and sometimes even covering for her mistakes so Ely could get let off free. And then Elyna just left, turned around and found a life for herself and forgot about Lorena to live a life filled with men and adventure.
Lorena was left back alone with her siblings, nobody to talk to and a broken heart. Even on the trials of Elyna's return the lady had given the girl a cold shoulder. Not to mention the clear preference that Vaughns mother had over the idea of Elyna marrying her precious son. She had always known that she was an outcast, she always knew that the nobles hated her. But when Uncle Mal had come along to Ne'haer and told her he would never approve of a match with her and V, her heart hurt.
Stood lingering at Elyna's door Lorena calmed the raging sea of emotions that played behind her thoughts and the very recently not so dead Lorena straightened her dress and knocked on the door. Here was the moment of truth.
Elsie hadn’t slept for what felt like an arc. The child had a red, runny nose and puffy eyes and cheeks from crying. There was a sickness in the city, and the skyrider could only pray that her daughter had not contracted it. She was still so young, despite her quick growth. Mother and child had spent the last few trials in a strange routine of baths and nap-time. The house was as tidy as ever, but Elyna felt like a mess. Barely enough time to wash her hair, she’d braided it and left it. Though a substantial amount had escaped. Her shirt and loose leggings were more comfortable around the swollen bump of her pregnancy. Her side ached and she wasn’t sure when she’d last eaten something solid, other than soft stews and lentil broths. The young woman was close to tearing her hair out and wondered, just why it was, that whenever Malcolm was away, their little princess seemed to catch a bad case of the sniffles and a temper tantrum.
Finally, after a morning-long battle, Elise had fallen asleep against her shoulder and the noblewoman sunk down into her chair, leaning back and closing her eyes. Until the door sounded. She tensed and forced herself to count to ten before standing. Elsie was still asleep. Elyna crossed the open plan room and pulled the door open. The colour drained from her features as she stood opposite a ghost. Was anyone that she thought had died, actually dead? Lorena…how could this be Lorena? There was no mistaking her cousin’s features or the way that she moved. But she was dead. Elyna had stood at her funeral pyre, she had wept into Yoreth’s shoulder.
The woman had forgotten to breath and so sucked in a sharp lungful of air. Lorena was …she was alive? Elyna moved away from the door and sank down in her chair once more without a word; afraid that her legs would buckle, or worse, she would wake Elsie. She curled a hand around the back of Elsie’s head and closed her eyes. Lorena was alive? Tears sprung from closed eyes as shock made her shiver.
“Lorena?”
Grown from their last meeting, Lorena studied her cousin with a guarded smile "Lady Elyna," she said, keeping a few paces distance from her cousin. Where Lorena once had a fond, loving relationship with the skyrider, over the years Lorena had developed an icy disdain. Her marriage to Malcolm had condemned her relationship with Vaughn and now it was clear to the young Burhan that her cousin was also with his child.
Elyna's reaction was something close to how Damon had reacted to her reappearance. Right now her cousin probably felt cheated, that Lorena was an asshole for doing such a thing as faking her own death. She was definitely an asshole, but not for any of those reasons. Noting Ely's absence of thought, Lorena invited herself through the door into the quaint little household. Scattered around the house hurried hints of attempts to pack away a child's mess scattered across the floor and immediately that weird there's a child in the house smell hit her nostrils. "Pregnancy definitely doesn't suit you," her dark golden eyes flickered to the cradled child "huh."
Mildly disturbed by the notion Lorena's trained on the several ornaments placed around the house, anxious to see what sort of treasury the great Elyna Burhan of the skyriders kept alongside her seventy year old husband. A sick feeling came to Lorena's stomach, it was so wrong. Wordless, Lorena meandered around the room, brushing her fingers along the edges of her cousin's things. Pictures, building blocks, knives and one knife in particular; a knife of white steel. Enamoured by the blade Lorena studied the engraving on the side with interest. The name 'Elyna Burhan' had been carefully etched into the edge of the faintly glowing starlight blade. "Where the hell did you get this?" the sailor asked, admiring the weapon from afar and considered the possibility that uncle mal had gifted it to her.
If she were a lesser woman she might have considered stealing it. Mischief flickered in Lorena's eyes and instead balanced a knife in her fingers and turned to settle herself into one of the free chairs. "Was it a gift of Uncle Mal's unadulterated love for you after he jumped away from the marriage of his dieing wife?" she pressed, settling back into the chair as she watched Elyna with a cool, sharp and calculated stare.
Stunned into silence, Elyna sat and watched the stranger walk into her home and move around. Light fingers moved over the surfaces. Lorena examined without shame, the mess that Elsie had left, the pile of bricks scattered over the floor. The few small items on a bookshelf including a tiny wooden sword that she’d once given Malcolm. The knife that Vakhanor had given her. The insult, she let slide. Did pregnancy suit anyone? Conscious more than ever of her appearance, Elyna tried to tuck in a few stray strands as she studied Lorena. The girl had grown into a beautiful woman, yet that had never been in doubt. Tears slid silent down her cheek, joy bubbling over and only curbed by the sharp pain in her abdomen. The skyrider moved to the side as she sat, adjusting Elsie in her arms. The baby pushed a thumb into her mouth, muttering in her sleep.
Finally, Lorena sat and Elyna found that her tears dried up, “the knife was a gift from a friend,” she explained without elaborating. “Lorena – I,” she bit her bottom lip, “I can’t believe that you’re alive. Your parents will be so pleased…we thought you had died,” and that was stating the obvious. “Immortals,” she gulped, overwhelmed and turned her own fact away. Elyna closed her eyes and kissed the back of Elsie’s head. She smelt like baby and it was delightful. Lorena was alive, had the skyrider ever felt so thankful? She prayed to Vri, silent and offered her thanks for not seeing the end of her cousin’s life.
Then more insults. Elyna pressed another kiss to Elsie and turned to look at her cousin. She felt exhausted, drained of energy, but that was probably due to Elsie.
“What do you think you know, Lorena?” She asked, voice calm and quiet. Lorena was a spark, easily fanned into flames. She always had been and seemed no different now. How dare she arrive with such accusations? Why had she called Maclolm, Uncle Mal?
