7: Moving On

Isik’s words cut much deeper than intended and the wave of loss that washed ver Ela in that moment was all the stronger because for Isik, Zehra had been gone 3 years. For Ela, she had been gone 3 years or 3 days - whichever…hurt more? To a degree, every time Ela wove that particular spell, she wondered whether it would be the last time. Either out of fear that Zehra would ask not to be called back, or that Ela would finally learn that her work was useless, that she must succumb to mundane, world ending grief.

Ela was not ready for that.

For all that Zehra sat with Ela while she worked, for all the two talked, one thing was clear: they kept secrets from each other. Zehra had not told her about the Secrets of Forbidden Lore. Even in death - even in death she had said nothing. What else was she not telling - what else had been a secret when she lived? Ela didn’t fault Zehra or begrudge these secrets, but…but it highlighted the other issue: Ela hadn’t told Zehra what it was she worked on so obsessively. All their discussions, all their talk - the time Ela had taken a mallet to still hot iron out of complete frustration only to have Zehra point out she hadn’t carried the two…

All that and they hadn’t talked about the sum of all these parts. Zehra was no fool, but neither was Ela, and she had been deliberately vague at times.

She would have to talk to Zehra about it eventually. In the same way that they had avoided the question of unfinished business or regrets, Ela knew some of these difficult conversations were coming.

She didn’t want them.

She’d already considered how they would go. Had chosen wording, had rehearsed it, spoken them into a mirror.

“Of course she was special!” she wanted to cry. “Too special. Too special for us to keep her.”

Tulips - red: Everlasting, enduring love. Crocuses for hope and the future. Isik was the closest Ela would get to another who understood just how special Zehra was.

She almost wished she hadn’t asked.

Before Zehra, Ela was an engineer. After Zehra, Ela was an inventor, doctor, coroner, sorcerer…Ela would never have been able to do half of what she could without Zehra.

Another thing she thought of often: Without Zehra she would never have been any of those things.

Without losing Zehra, she wouldn’t have been any of them. Without her encouragement, she wouldn’t have been an inventor. Without her illness, Ela wouldn’t have needed to learn medicine, would not have accepted offers to join orders, would not have been so thorough a student, would not have spent time pouring over runes and blueprints or avoiding people or spending nights speaking with the dead, or…

Sometimes, very, very deep down, Ela wondered whether things would have been better - different - better -

She wondered how different things would have been if she’d never met Zehra. Or had listened to her parents’ pleas to focus on traditional engineering study instead of the butterflies in her stomach as she came up with a rudimentary cooling machine for the basement of a coffee house because of the smile and laugh of a pretty face.

The horrific pangs of resentment were all she needed to reaffirm the need to complete her project.The pumping mechanism she had been working on before the dinner had shown good consistency, but the valves had to be powerful enough to withstand the pressure at the size required and that, so far, had been problematic.

The thought was not relevant to the current situation, but it was enough to distract her. The exploration…the searching and talking and finding and solving…all good distractions.

Zehra wanted her to see people and the world and live vicariously. Three days was the longest Ela had managed to go without speaking with her.

At least now there would be much to speak of.

Perhaps too much.