Page 61 of Draekora

If dinner that evening was strained dueto Aven’s reappearance and the full council in attendance, Alex hardly noticed. She was barely aware of the three members she already knew from the future:LoroGaiel of House Varsae,LasaRiza of House Fraelorn, andLoroRoathus of House Lorenn. While it was certainly interesting to see them in the past, especially the wise, old Roathus—not to mention, having Gaiel and Riza no longer look down upon her—Alex was too distracted to pay much attention to any of them. And that was due to the presence of another council member, the representative for House Quoris; the family Queen Niida was born to before marrying into the Dalmarta House. The council member for Quoris was her father, Roka and Aven’s grandfather, and his name was Eanraka.

As in, the founder of Akarnae.

For the entire first half of the meal, Alex struggled to take her eyes off him, so awed as she was by his presence. She simply couldn’t believe she was eating dinner with the Meyarin who created the academy that would become her home thousands of years into the future. It was only when dessert was passed around that he spoke to her directly, causing her starstruck self to become even more enraptured.

“So, Aeylia, is it?” Eanraka said, his turquoise eyes spearing her from across the table. “I hear you grew up amongst mortals. Is that true?”

Alex quickly swallowed the sip she’d taken from her goblet and replied in perfect Meyarin, “Yes,LoroEanraka. I only arrived here a week ago.”

“Who were your parents, youngling?” askedLasaNaelin of House Tarennia—Kyia’s aunt.

“Aeylia was abandoned as a babe,” Roka said from Alex’s right before she had a chance to respond, his firm tone telling the whole council to be cautious with their next line of questioning.

“I’m intrigued to hear how you managed to survive amongst humans for so long,” said Niyx’s father,LoroCykor of House Raedon. He shared his son’s dark hair and rugged good looks, but instead of Niyx’s amethyst eyes, Cykor’s were a magnetic grey that shone with a deep, cunning intelligence.

Again, Alex wasn’t able to answer before someone else spoke up first. This time it was Eanraka.

With a snort, the founder of Akarnae said, “You make the mortals sound like savages, Cy.”

“For all we know, they might be just that,” Cykor returned with a careless shrug. “After all, Ean, you’re one of the few at this table who has interacted with them for any length of time. And even then, the ones you allow into that school of yours are hardly a representation of the majority, if I understand correctly. What is it you call them again?”

“Gifted,” Eanraka replied. “As you well know by now.”

“It’s been nearly three hundred years since you named that place after yourself and yet you still haven’t given up on them,” Gaiel put in, a sneer in his tone. “Why do you bother, old friend?”

Eanraka dug into a sponge-like pudding and raised the spoon to his mouth. “You have your hobbies, I have mine.”

Alex felt an unpleasant stab in her stomach at the idea of humans like her being considered a mere hobby by the Meyarin responsible for banding them together, and she couldn’t keep her face from showing her distaste.

“It seems I’ve offended you, Aeylia,” Eanraka said, watching her closely.

She thought carefully about her response before saying, “It’s difficult for me to look upon humans in the same manner as most of you. To me, they aren’t savages or hobbies, they’re people who cared for me when no one else would, Meyarin included. Forgive me for taking offence; I’m still learning the ways of your—our—people.”

Something flashed in Eanraka’s eyes, a spark of pride or approval, Alex thought, but then his expression blanked again and he said, “I can understand how you would find yourself indebted to them. It’s only natural, given your upbringing.”

“Let’s move on from the subject of mortals,” King Astophe said diplomatically, careful to keep his eyes from drifting to Aven who surprisingly kept his own views on the topic quiet. “Eanraka, tell us your latest happenings withSoraya de lah Torra.”

The words Astophe used weren’t Meyarin, but they had the familiar lyrical cadence of the language Lady Mystique had spoken. Translated mentally thanks to her bond with Xiraxus, Alex understood them to mean ‘The Light of the Worlds’. But what Astophe was referring to, she had no idea.

“And of course,” the king continued, “you must also tell us how fares the young Freyan who had just used theeidenpaths to travel here when last we saw you.”

Having been in the middle of taking another sip from her drink, Alex nearly sloshed the liquid all down her front, so startled was she by his enquiry.

‘Freyan’ was a word she needed no translation for.

Eidenin the unknown lyrical language meant ‘doorway’.

Connecting the dots, Alex suddenly realised whatSoraya de lah Torra—The Light of the Worlds—referred to.

Astophe was talking about the Library.

How could I be so stupid?Alex berated herself, lowering her trembling hand until the goblet was resting back on the table. For seven days she’d been in the past, and not once had she considered seeking out the Library, not even after she’d mastered the use of theValispath. While she couldn’t know for sure, it was entirely possible that if the Library was capable of transporting her from Freya to Medora—between two entirely different worlds—then perhaps it was also able to bend time and return her to the future.

In fact, until this moment, she had also never given any thought to other Freyans ever having visited Medora, although she vaguely recalled Bear and Jordan once telling her that she was the first to arrive in thousands of years. That meant at some stage before her, someone else had journeyed from her world to Medora. Wondering if perhaps this person Astophe had asked about was the predecessor her friends had been referring to, Alex turned her full attention back to the table.

“Soraya de lah Torrashows itself to be more magnificent every time I wander its halls,” Eanraka answered with a contented smile lighting his face that, with his dark hair and sharp features, made him look like an older version of Roka. The family resemblance was uncanny. “There can be no doubt that it truly is the Jewel of Medora, and I can see now why it was fought over for so long by other races of this world. Akarnae would not be what it is without the Great Library offered as its foundation.”

“And the Freyan?” Niida asked her father. “What of him?”

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