Elira shuffled her feet, standing awkwardly in front of Leo's door, debating within herself whether or not she wanted to knock.
Like anything a person dreads, the weekend had approached quickly, the days flying by like birds fleeing the colder weather. At first, she'd accepted the idea of going to his place; it was just Leo. She didn't even know him very well. But, every passing hour working for him had made him a closer friend, making her realize more and more that she didn't want to risk him knowing about...
About what had happened with Eagan. It would make him reject her. That would hurt her. Hurt her without respite. Because Vincent wasn't around to understand. She was alone...again. And the strength she'd been gaining, allowing her to trust and giving her self-confidence, was still a little shaky. Shaky like the legs of a newborn colt, unused, unpracticed, only able to hold her for awhile before dropping her harshly to the cold dirt. Vincent wouldn't be there to help her up.
Elira grimaced. She was still so needy; she hated needing Vincent this way right now. She was still angry at him for leaving, whatever the reason; she was angry at the way his departure made her feel, as if her whole world had just walked out the door. In so short a time, he'd become like a part of her. She guessed that she hadn't become a part of him in return if he could just leave without some indecision. This made her feel something akin to dejection; as her frown deepened she recognized suddenly how much power he had over her. It made her afraid to realize how he could change her entire universe with one word, one step in the wrong direction. He had the power Eagan had had over her...
The power Eagan had refused responsibility for when he'd fallen in front of the train; the power he hadn't cared about...because he hadn't found her worth caring about...
Elira discovered that her breathing had become shallow. She felt a little sick. But she could trust Vincent, she reminded herself. He knew the pain; he would never do what Eagan had done. He was the one person she could trust with this power.
If only the fate he'd once talked of so often hadn't cursed him in the way it had. Then, she might've had the courage to try for something deeper than the recently faltering friendship they had now. Because they were so alike, able to trust and understand one another. And because of the way his closeness always made her feel, making her heart beat faster, making her blood run like lightning through her body. Making her remember poignantly the fiery, need-driven night of passion they had shared. But, he was so sure...so sure that it could only end in tragedy because of Chaos. And maybe he was right. But, sometimes, she found herself not caring. Sometimes, despite her efforts toward the opposite, she found herself wishing that it could be different between them. If only the idea didn't upset him so.
If only fate had a heart.
She swallowed the lump in her throat, raising a balled fist to the door. Maybe once Chaos was gone. Maybe he'd be more inclined to consider her for a prospective relationship when the demon and the curse had both been banished. Maybe she'd be sure then of what she wanted. And maybe he'd be ready.
The knock she delivered echoed through the hallway of the tiny, two-floor apartment building. Elira shifted her weight from one foot to the other and fidgeted until the doorknob turned and the door opened. Leo stood in the opening and smiled genially when he saw that it was her.
"Come in, come in," he urged, moving out of her way. She nodded a thank you, herself smiling faintly, as she stepped over the threshold onto a brown, coarse mat. She inspected the apartment as she removed the sandals she'd also borrowed from Tifa.
It was a small, bachelor apartment with sky blue-tinted walls and navy blue carpeting that covered the floor of the living room ahead of her. At the darkened kitchen off to her left, visibly very neat, the carpeting stopped in favour of beige tiling. The living room, unlike the kitchen, looked very cluttered, almost as cramped as her apartment back in Virna, sector four of Neo-Midgar. It made her feel a little homesick.
"Sorry about the mess," Leo murmured as he led her over a route between packed-in furniture toward the couch. "I tried to clean it up as best I could, but there's only so much space to put things."
"Not a problem," Elira responded, stepping carefully around the edge of a coffee table. As Leo directed, she sat on the sofa. He remained standing.
"Would you like anything to drink?" he asked, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose reflexively.
"Um, sure. Water please."
Leo smiled. "One water coming up." He stepped around her and made his way to the kitchen, leaving Elira to examine his living room. It was a moderate size, though its crowded condition made it look much smaller. Part of the reason it looked so chock-full, she discovered, was the fact that one wall had been completely given to bookshelves filled with aged-looking books. The sight was achingly familiar to another apartment she had seen, however, and she was unable to look for long.
A few moments later, Leo returned from the kitchen. As he approached, he handed her a glass of water, idly dropping a plastic coaster on the table in front of her. She smiled appreciatively and took a sip. It was soothingly cool.
Leo watched her a second longer, his eyes tracing her quickly, before he sat down beside her. She wondered what he thought of her based on her choice of clothing, dressed as she was in a white spaghetti-strapped dress. Although she'd gone out and bought herself some shorts and t-shirts, she'd decided to go out in this dress anyway because she hadn't had a chance to yet, not wanting to wear it to work. The idea was curious; she'd been unaccustomed to seeing herself in a dress and she knew Vincent would've thought it strange to see her in one of Tifa's ensembles, but Leo hadn't seen her in anything else since she'd started working. If the old adage 'clothes make the man', (or woman in this case), was true, she questioned what Leo thought about her; no doubt he hadn't seen her for the tomboy she often was beneath the frills. She felt suddenly like the dress was a kind of mask, covering her up beneath a stereotype. The thought made her a little uneasy. She didn't want any more disguises, even if she didn't want Leo knowing everything about her; and it wasn't as if he was prying. It's stupid to hide from someone who isn't looking for you, she decided. Making a show of hiding isn't hiding at all. Simple evasion works much better.
Leo gave a sigh and reached for a book on the coffee table, pulling it into his lap before opening it and taking a single sheet of paper from between two pages. As he put the book down beside him, keeping his place, he smiled at Elira.
"This," he said, indicating the paper, "is the bulk of what I've translated so far of the Cetra scriptures."
Elira looked at the paper, suddenly realizing that the book of Cetra scriptures Leo had picked up was still in the Cetra language. When Leo had mentioned reading a little of the writings, she'd automatically assumed that they'd been in the common language; someone would have no doubt translated the text in the ten years since the Ancients had become a recognized part of history, right? She hadn't counted on Leo, the historian, wanting to translate it for himself.
Leo's smile grew after a moment. "Do you want to hear what it says?"
Elira shrugged. "Sure."
His expression fell. "Well, don't humour me or anything."
She chuckled, though it was more than a little forced. Her mind, whether she liked it or not, was mulling clumsily over the issue of Vincent. And it was making her depressed the more she thought of it, the longer it went unsolved. She put her glass of water onto the coaster. "Sorry. I am interested in this. Go on."
He nodded, a portion of his smile returning. He lifted the page up as he shifted his seating until he was comfortable. And then he began to read, his voice changing to a solid, sober timbre Elira hadn't heard him use yet.
"We did not know then, but know now, the nature of demons. We did not realize that every syllable uttered out of their mouths is a lie from the pit. We did not realize that they fear more than they are feared.
"We served Yenowa as we had served the God of our forefathers. But the Chosen One revealed things to us previously unknown and we became aware, like children waking from dreams. With failing power, Yenowa had those of her people who had not deserted capture and kill the Chosen One. Yenowa had the Chosen One sacrificed to her in the common ritual of sacrifice. His heart was cut out of his chest and burned according to the laws of sacrifice. His followers took his body in secret and buried it where Yenowa would not find it. They did not know, as we know now, that the Chosen One had been chosen to die. According to the prophesies, the God of our forefathers raised him up from the pit once his task had been completed. The God of our forefathers raised him up when the power that moves beneath the earth had been chained. Yenowa's power failed her as the demons power failed them and she was betrayed by her own followers. Her body was left on the Frozen Island. We pray it will never be uncovered."
The words were strange and poetic. Elira found herself wholly caught up in the two-thousand year old story, listening to nothing but Leo's solemn way of reciting what he'd translated. It was different than she'd imagined the story would've gone. She'd heard that the Cetra had been almost completely wiped out by Jenova, or Yenowa as she seemed to be called in the scriptures, but she'd never heard that they'd worshipped her. And what had been written about demons? Jenova had been one, or had been in league with them somehow. Everything that came out of their mouths was a lie? And they were more afraid of the Cetra than the Cetra were of them? Elira stored this knowledge in the back of her mind, wondering if it would interest Vincent. Maybe it would give him an edge against Chaos, though she wasn't sure how. Chaos, as far as she knew, didn't, or couldn't, talk; maybe it would settle Vincent's mind merely to know that the demon was probably more distressed than he was.
Leo lowered the page slowly, looking at Elira for her reaction. She smiled, raising her eyebrows to communicate her awe. "There were some things in there I've never heard before."
Leo nodded. "Yes, the history of the Cetra is often misinterpreted, I find. They were a very religious people, mostly monotheistic, but this isn't taught in the schools. Midgar was especially bad for this; the idea of gods was kind of scoffed at there."
Elira nodded slightly. She hadn't grown up in the city, but she had been schooled there since Kalm hadn't, and still didn't have, an education facility; well, she had been schooled there until Meteor. Her father had insisted that she stay home after that. "Did you live in Midgar?" she asked after a small pause.
Leo shrugged. "For a couple of years. I grew up mostly in Cosmo Canyon, though, something for which I will be eternally grateful. The scholars there taught me a lot of things." He looked down at his lap, enveloped in memories for the moment. Less than a minute passed before he looked up at her again. "Did you want to try your hand at a little translating?"
Elira laughed a little in surprise. "Me? I've never translated anything before, I'm sure I'd be terrible."
"You don't know that." Leo fished a pencil out of a nearby drawer and turned the piece of paper over so that she could write on the clean side. "Here." He placed the open scriptures before her on the coffee table and then put the Cetra lexicon beside it. "I'll help."
Elira pursed her lips in indecision for a second or two before taking the pencil out of Leo's hand. He smiled encouragingly as she bent to the task.
It was hard going. She picked one sentence out of the scriptures and, with Leo's aid, looked the words up in the lexicon. Once it was done, she found herself wanting to do more.
She'd finished an entire page by the time the ache of straining her eyes became noticeable. She sat up, cracking her shoulders and back, and rubbed her hands over her face. Leo laughed a little, putting the lexicon he'd pulled into his lap onto the couch.
"I know that feeling all too well."
Elira muttered a small word of agreement. It felt as if she been staring without blinking for hours. She pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes but brought her hands down as a warm hand landed on her shoulder, bare except for the thin strap of the dress.
"Would you like to go for a walk or something?" Leo asked. As she hesitated, she thought she saw him swallow nervously, though she became unsure of what she'd seen when she looked back to his confident expression. Confident, sincere expression. She smiled.
"Okay."
He grinned. "Great. I'll show you around Costa Del Sol. It's not a big town, but it's full of things to look at."
Elira nodded as she stood with Leo, straightening the skirt of the dress. As she followed him to the door, she couldn't help but wish that it was Vincent she was about to go on a walk with. The short jaunt they'd taken through sector six seemed as if it had been years and years ago. She recalled how easily she'd been herself around him, unashamed and comfortable. She missed that feeling.
But more than that, she missed...she missed...
Vincent awoke to the damp chalky smell of the rock around him, the familiar echoing sound of trickling water reaching his ears from somewhere deeper into the hills. Despite these clues, it took him a moment to remember where he was: the mouth of a small, narrow cave north of Costa Del Sol. He opened his eyes and sat up carefully, squinting against the unwelcome afternoon sun pouring in from the opening nearby.
Two empty dart viles lay beside him. He recalled having used two. The first one hadn't taken its full effect after almost three minutes, only succeeding in making him disoriented and drowsy. Vulnerable. The second one had worked quicker, though it had taken quite a bit of will to make his body respond, to make his hand take the dart and push it into the marblish skin of his arm. Chaos had fought him all the way, laughing and jeering.
Jeering because the thing Vincent had worried about on and off since he'd started using sedatives on Chaos was coming to pass. His body was becoming less sensitive to the drugs. It took larger amounts to put him out, and the effects were lasting for shorter periods of time. From the daylight visible, Vincent gathered that he had been unconscious for maybe two hours.
He drew a breath and attempted to gain his bearings. Chaos was gone for now, but Vincent didn't doubt it would return soon. He had admittedly been a little confused by the demon's tactic of continuing to attack him when a simple tranquilizer could thwart it. Now Vincent knew the purpose behind it. Chaos had known the drugs would eventually lose their effectiveness, and so had caused Vincent to have to use them more often. This had, no doubt, been to increase the appeal of leaving Elira, another goal of Chaos'; the demon knew, too, that, without Elira, the trip would be that much harder on Vincent. It probably hoped that he would give up. Or die.
But he wouldn't be doing either. He wouldn't be leaving Elira. He wouldn't give Chaos the pleasure of having won over him. He wouldn't give fate the pleasure.
Once he felt steady enough, Vincent made his way over to his pack. Opening it, he began counting the number of tranquilizers left. And realized that, with the way he was using them, they would be gone within a few days. He would have to return to Costa Del Sol. He would have to return to Elira and see if she was willing to spend some gil on a fresh supply of sedatives.
Something within him quickened at the thought of seeing Elira again.
The first time he had awakened in this cave, he had half-expected to find her at his side. Loneliness and a strange longing to go back to the villa had filled him, and had been hard to overcome.
Maybe the word 'overcome' was too strong. Maybe 'ignore' fit better...
But now the longing would not be ignored, changing as it was into an anxious anticipation. Part of him wanted to see her.
Part of him hungered to see her, if only to hear her say his name, to see her lips move...or even just to watch her, the familiar way she walked and gestured...
Just to see her for a moment...
He shook his head, angry and a little fearful. This was hauntingly reminiscent of the days spent in Nibelheim where he had waited like a fool, sometimes for hours, outside of the room Lucrecia and the others worked in. Waiting for her to emerge, wanting just to catch a glimpse of her, or perhaps to be the recipient of a heavenly smile...
It was dangerous to get that dependent on someone. And he was coming dangerously close to becoming dependent on Elira the way he had been with Lucrecia. He would have to be careful.
But, the fact still held that he needed to get more tranquilizers, and that meant seeing Elira again, however briefly. The thought sent another lightning-like jolt through his system; he attempted to disregard it, closing up his pack and slipping it over his shoulders as he stood.
While walking, he realized that his mind was unconsciously detailing her face, remembering her voice, her laugh. He frowned and sighed through his teeth, pushing himself to a faster pace, concentrating only on the next step.
He would have to be very, very careful.
The sun was setting, the oranges and reds of the glowing orb that was the sun melting into the icy, darkening depths of the ocean. Elira stared at it wistfully, despite the protests of her eyes that insisted on squinting at the sight.
The beach was nearly empty, dotted infrequently with couples absorbed in the strange, romantic atmosphere that the mystery of a sunset was able to create. Elira sighed silently; she felt outside of it all, though.
Leo had shown her around Costa Del Sol and she'd laughed at his many humourous descriptions. He'd then taken her to a small outdoor cafe for an evening dinner before convincing her that the sunset at the beach in this resort was second to none. You haven't really seen a sunset until you've seen it in Costa Del Sol," he'd professed. Chuckling and shaking her head at the nonsense, she'd agreed to a walk along the shore.
But, she felt as if something was missing. The sight was irrefutably breathtaking, that was undeniable; yet, it felt as if she wasn't seeing everything it had to offer. The romantic ambiance it exuded didn't, couldn't touch her.
And that made it seem so far away, chilling her instead of washing her in waves of warm pleasure. She shivered and drew her arms up, folding them over her chest. Tifa's sandals dangled from two fingers as she walked barefoot in the cooling sand.
"Elira?"
"Huh?" Elira glanced to her left, at Leo.
He smiled faintly. "You looked a million miles away. I asked you if you were enjoying yourself."
"Oh." Elira attempted to smile back at him. "Yes, I'm fine."
"But are you enjoying yourself?"
Elira nodded quickly, not wanting him to think that he'd done something to upset her. Because it wasn't him. He had nothing to do with it. "This is beautiful. I've had a wonderful day."
Leo's smile grew and he glanced forward, his eyes scanning the rest of the beach that lay out before them. "I'm happy to hear you say that, because I've enjoyed myself today, too. Believe it or not, this is the first time since I moved to Costa Del Sol that I've been out with a friend." Elira glanced at him and he nodded, not looking at her. "Yep. Sadly, there aren't many people living here who share my interests. Sure, some of my customers who come through are intrigued by the Cetra, but they usually don't live any closer than North Corel." They walked a moment more in silence before he slowed to a halt. Elira stopped as well, turning to find his eyes bright and fixed on hers.
"I'm glad we met, Elira," he said softly.
Elira smiled. "So am I. Without you, I wouldn't have a job." She became a little restless when he didn't look away immediately. She lowered her head, trying not to fidget. "I think it's time I went back."
"All right. I'll walk you home."
The journey back to the villa was uneventful. Leo made mention of a few points of interest they had missed on their previous tour, but Elira couldn't manage anything more than one word responses. She was feeling a little uncomfortable suddenly around Leo; there was no reason for it, though, she told herself again and again. But, when he'd looked at her so piercingly on the beach, she'd almost believed he'd been about to ask her if they could start dating. And the idea had frightened her. Frightened her more than it ought to have.
Leo walked her up the stairs to the door and waited as she unlocked and opened it. As she stepped inside, he bid her goodnight and started off for his own apartment. Elira watched him until he was at the bottom of the stairs before she entered fully and closed the door behind her.
She locked it in preparation for the night; it took her a moment to do up the final latch since the house had darkened considerably since she'd left it that morning. Eventually, she managed to secure it and, slipping out of the sandals she'd replaced on her feet when they'd left the beach, she turned around.
And screamed. Shrilly.
Vincent seemed unaffected by her startling reception as he stood like a shadow in the middle of the front room, his claw and eyes glinting in the light from the window to his right. He looked for all the world as if he had been standing there motionlessly for hours.
"Vincent!" Waves of relief and delight at seeing him again washed over her and she almost ran to him. But she stopped herself before she'd taken a step as the feelings of hurt and anger she'd felt upon finding his note resurfaced. Her smile morphed into a sullen frown. "What are you doing here? The three weeks aren't up yet."
Vincent didn't answer immediately. If he felt any confusion at her mixed greeting, he didn't show it. "I am almost out of tranquilizer darts."
Tranquilizer darts. Elira felt her insides clench. He'd come back for tranquilizer darts. Her jaw quivered and she snapped her teeth together angrily. Angry at him for his insensitivity, but angry more at herself for being so upset by it. After all, what had she expected to find? That he was back to see her? She would've scoffed had she been surer that the action wouldn't cause her to break down. Why would he have come back to see her? Because he missed her? It was absurd to think so. Everything...everything recent pointed to the fact that he felt nothing for her. Not in the way she'd hoped inside, where all hopes are invisible, though no less real. And she was beginning to think that he'd never felt anything for her, that everything he'd done had been only for himself. The way it had been for her in the beginning, going with him mostly for herself until she'd begun caring. Caring beyond what one friend felt for another.
Caring until she felt she would sacrifice everything to be with him, to help him. Even if...
Even if it meant giving up the inner healing she'd seen possible with him. As long as Vincent was all right, nothing else mattered.
She closed her eyes on growing tears and shook her head slightly. She was the biggest fool in the universe. She'd fallen for him. And fallen hard.
And she had a feeling that, even if Vincent knew, he wouldn't care. He didn't want a relationship; not in that way. And, although she had considered that, perhaps, the reason behind denying love was just to keep things from getting complicated, she was now beginning to think that there was another reason.
He just wasn't interested in her.
Elira put a fist to her mouth, afraid that she might sob aloud. After a moment, she took a deep breath and looked to Vincent again. His expression hadn't changed. She steeled herself against his cold demeanor, raising her chin. She wondered suddenly how he'd gotten into the villa when she'd locked the door in the morning. The idea of him clambering through a window didn't strike her as ridiculous the way she'd thought it would. It seemed to fit him, somehow, sneaking in unobtrusively.
His entrance into her heart had been unobtrusive; he hadn't forced himself at all.
"I bought some darts after I realized you'd taken the others. If you want, you can have those."
Vincent nodded his head once. Elira reciprocated the action and went into the bedroom to retrieve the tranquilizers from her backpack where she'd put them. She flicked the light on, sensing that Vincent was following her. He stopped in the doorway as she pulled the new package out of her bag. When Elira turned back to him, she saw that he was gazing at her with his piercing red eyes, as if to commit her to memory. He didn't look away as she noticed.
Elira felt herself tremble a little as she stood. Why was he staring? She felt herself flush and wished suddenly that she'd left the light off, though that would've made finding the darts that much harder. She thought she saw something ripple through his expression after a moment, but it was gone as soon as she'd noted it. Her breath caught in her throat. Maybe she'd been wrong. Maybe he did feel...
She crushed these thoughts down savagely. No more games. She wasn't going to second-guess him anymore. Because it would hurt too much when she realized the truth.
"What?" she asked him abruptly.
He lowered his eyes. A piece of her wished she hadn't said anything. She approached him, holding the darts out in front of her like a barrier between them. "Here are the tranquilizers."
He took the package in his gloved hand, giving it a rudimentary glance. And then his eyes returned to her face. "Thank you, Elira." He seemed to want to say something more. Elira stopped breathing. He turned away a second later, heading for the door.
Despite the protests of her mind, Elira couldn't help running after him. She couldn't help her feelings for him. She couldn't help but hope that there was some chance he might feel the same...
"Vincent, wait!"
He stopped at the front door to the villa, his prosthetic hand resting on the doorknob. It was nearly impossible to tell where the metal fingers ended and the golden knob began.
She stopped beside him and pushed a few fallen strands of hair from her face. She felt like an idiot, but she didn't want him to go. At least, not while she was still so jumbled inside.
"Um...I, uh, wanted to tell you something."
Vincent waited patiently by the door.
"Uh..." Elira cursed herself, clearing her throat. "Leo's been teaching me how to translate the Cetra language in our spare time and, well, I found something I thought you might find interesting."
Vincent continued to watch her as if she was the only thing in the entire world worth watching at that moment. She swallowed. God, how she wanted to tell him. How she wanted to let him know how he affected her. How she wanted to know that she did the same to him...
"In the Cetra scriptures, there's a verse that says every word a demon says is a lie, and that they're afraid more than they're feared." She waited for Vincent's reaction.
There wasn't one. He gave an acknowledging nod before opening the door and walking out. There wasn't a sound as he jogged agilely down the cement steps and onto the streets of Costa Del Sol. Elira watched him, almost gripping the door frame between whitening fingers, until he'd disappeared into the night. It was a moment after that before she was able to close the door.
She couldn't cry. Not now. She walked to the bedroom in a daze, slipping out of the dress and into a nightie she'd found in a drawer. She hadn't packed one of her own, thinking as she had been in her apartment in Neo-Midgar that her nights would be spent in tents that let the cold air in where it would make sense just to sleep in her clothes.
Doubt was fighting with hope, neither seeming to gain the upper hand. As she crawled into bed, though, Elira told herself finally that it didn't matter now. The biggest concern was to get Vincent to the City of the Ancients, and even if Vincent wanted a relationship, he wouldn't allow one. Not until Chaos was gone. She would worry about this again once the demon had been cast out.
Her dreams left her restless. The most vivid showed her standing at the edge of a steep cliff helping Vincent up the last few meters with a rope that fell from where her heart was. It hurt her to use the rope this way, but the pain was overshadowed by the fear that he would fall. As he reached the edge, he made a final pull on the rope as he hauled himself over, a final pull that made her lose her balance and go tumbling into the void below. Somehow, as she fell, she could still see him.
He was walking away from the cliff edge, as if he had forgotten her.
She'd been out with Leo. That's where she'd been, why she hadn't been home when he'd arrived. She'd been with him. In that dress. In that dress that had made her look so different, showing her slim arms, her delicate collar bones. Her distinct and unquestionable beauty.
She hadn't been happy to see him. His appearance had...distressed her. He wondered suddenly if she was in love with Leo. This one thought brought forth more emotion in him than any he'd had in years and years.
Yessss. And what did you exsssspect, Vincssssent?
Vincent closed his eyes. What had his expected? He hadn't asked her to love him. He hadn't wanted her to love him because of Chaos, the curse, fate. He'd asked only to be able to trust her. And she'd been faithful that way. What was his complaint?
Sssshe issss a grown woman with needssss, Vincssssent. Perhapssss you sssshould leave her to the life sssshe could achieve in Cossssta Del Ssssol. The voice was soft, almost sympathetic. Vincent didn't believe in the sympathy of the demon for a moment. But its words made sense, much as he hated to admit it.
Elira deserved more. She was barely more than a child; she deserved a life of happiness. The life Leo could give her, he realized sourly, but the disgust soon turned to regret. His own actions of forty years ago had foretold this. There was no love available for the damned.
Elira didn't deserve the mess he was dragging her through, carting her around after him as his safeguard. She deserved so much better. So much better than anything he could ever offer with his tainted hands. She deserved someone like Leo.
He'd been so selfish. It was time to release her; release her from the death that was most likely fated for her if she continued with him. Chaos would kill her. And she deserved so much more.
But would he be able to go on without someone to shoot the tranquilizer gun, and then guard him while he slept? He knew already he wouldn't be able to find someone he trusted half as much as he trusted Elira.
It was a matter of setting priorities now. It was a matter of finding out what mattered most...