Corabelle made no effort to try to check on Zaramir again, though she kept thinking she should. Something had to have happened, but she didn’t know what. His personality completely changed with no indication why. She could have justified not visiting him, telling herself she was just giving him space, but in truth she didn’t want to return to that lab.

  So for the next few days, she ignored the sounds above her, finding things to do. She couldn’t bring herself to enter the beast room, so she worked primarily in the garden and kitchen.

  When she ran out of things to do, she stared at the fake window in her room for hours on end, finding that the scene was on a three hour and twenty-two minute loop. Despite that, she kept finding new little details; a little cottage surrounded by wildflowers on a far hill. A pair of little birds bringing twigs to a never completed nest. At the two hour mark exactly, the cottage door opened a crack and a little white cat slipped out and went around to the back of the house. At least, she thought it was a cat, by its slinking movement and keeping close to the lowest bricks of the building. It was too far away to tell for certain. She never saw a person open the door and the cat never went back inside, but it left the building at the two hours mark, and at the two hour and one minute mark, it was out of view.

  As she stared at the image, her mind wandered; Often to places she didn’t wish, but eventually a thought occurred to her, one that gave her enough pause to miss the cat leaving its home on this particular loop.

  Zaramir had become cold toward her shortly after she promised to stay. Initially he’d been thrilled but maybe it had dawned on him that what she had promised could very well mean her being in his home, a constant presence for centuries, millennia, until the end of his days. Perhaps it gave him second thoughts. He had said himself that she was a distraction, granted one he was alright with, but maybe he didn’t expect that distraction forever when he said so.

  Generally, he was fairly straightforward with his opinions and feeling toward, but he probably felt too uncomfortable to rescind the offer after realizing what it meant.

  This cruel behavior was an attempt to push her away.

  Her jaw clenched, a deep scowl furrowing her brow.

  If that was the case, she wished he would just be straight with her. There was no sense staying somewhere she wasn’t wanted.

  Despite this, she wouldn’t let him get away with such an underhanded tactic. If he wanted her gone, he could say it to her face.

  Mind made up, she left her nest of bedding and marched across the room.

  She nearly jumped out of her skin when she found him standing in front of her door, hand halfway raised as though he were about to knock.

  His hand lowered, crossing with the other behind his back, “I’m going out. I assume you would like to join me.” It was a statement not a question, cold and unwelcoming. She hadn't even noticed un til he said something he was wearing a plain dark shirt and pants, a far cry from his usual bright colors.

  She found herself so stunned by the almost instant interruption in her plan to confront him that she lost her ability to speak, instead standing embarrassingly slack jawed in front of him.

  He filled the silence swiftly, “If you would like to join me, get changed.” His hand reappeared in front of him for a fraction of a second to flick his wrist, a new travel outfit appearing on the bed.

  This one was a much lighter material dyed a dusty blue, with no jacket. The travel boots were replaced with a lighter alternative, very similar to ones her father had made her once; durable sandals in dark stained leather.

  “The ritual is nearly complete.” He added. “You are welcome to stay behind. I’m leaving in five minutes, whether you’re there or not.”

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  As he turned away her sense returned to her, “Zaramir, wait.”

  He turned back halfway, a look of disinterest brazenly on his face. She hated that look, it made her want to slap him just to get any sort of reaction at all.

  “Do you want me here?” She asked plainly.

  “You may come on the trip if you wish. It will make no difference whether you’re here or not.”

  “No,” She said firmly. “Let me be perfectly clear. I am asking if you really want me in your home. Not just now and not just while you’re gone. If you want me leave this home, leave you alone. I would prefer to know now.”

  His eyes widened almost imperceptibly, his body twitched once. His muscles tightened, knuckles going white. While it was all very subtle, she knew her words had an effect, a reaction, which was better than she’d gotten in the lab.

  He released a long uneven breath, before the subtle changes washed away, “Yes, I would like you to stay.” Any semblance of care had vanished. He replied with about as much enthusiasm as agreeing to a ten hour voyage in a cargo crate.

  She didn't believe him. As fleeting as it was, that reaction should have either given her a kind response or an honest one. She got neither.

  “Fine.” She replied in kind, mirroring his demeanor. “I’ll come with you. I’ll get ready.”

  She turned away, closing the door on him. He owed her the truth. If he was going to choose the cowards route, she’d make him regret it.

  She began changing into the new travel outfit. She didn’t like this one. The material was thin and light, but the dress itself was form fitting, exposing every curve of this new body. She would never have worn something like this given another option.

  Though at the very least it answered one of her numerous question she'd had since she'd been revived. Based on the material, It must be warm now. So, It had been a good portion of a year then, since her death.

  Despite her frustration she nearly laughed when her mind wandered to the uncooked berries beneath the wreckage of her home. They’d be long spoiled now. Even her preserves wouldn’t have long left. They would never last to the next winter with her limited abilities in the grove.

  Putting on the provided outfit, more like costume as it felt, didn’t take long, far less time than that of the winter clothes. The shoes were much faster to don and as an added benefit were far, far easier to walk in.

  If he hadn’t threatened to leave without her, she would have kept him waiting out of spite. Though, his new tone told her the threat likely wasn’t empty and she didn’t want to be trapped in the home alone.

  He hadn't even told her where they were going or how long they’d be gone and that didn’t change as she entered the atrium.

  The ritual was fully complete, travel bags packed, and Zaramir stood impatiently in the center of the core shape.

  She crossed without a word, taking her place in front of him inside the small shape. Fully within the boundary this time, he didn’t touch her and swiftly completed the ritual.

  They arrived on that same gravel road. The summer sun blazed down on Corabelle, instantly making her break out into a light sweat. Though a nice breeze kept the heat from being unbearable.

  Despite having braced herself, unlike last time, she felt nothing entering a space of normal time. It was almost more unsettling to be one place and suddenly another with no feeling of travel than the pain had been.

  Zaramir set off walking the moment they appeared, heading the same way down the road they had the first time. He didn’t question if she was alright, just set off on his mission.

  After a long while of tense walking in just barely tolerable heat, he spoke, “We’re out here for that fire elemental. It’s still necessary.

  “I didn’t ask.” She replied coldly, despite a knot of sudden fear and a disturbing chill running down her sunkissed neck.

  “I assumed you would be curious. We aren’t returning to the same site of course.”

  “That would be a waste of time.” She pressed out over the lump in her throat, determined to continue to match his blase tone.

  “Hmm,” He nodded. “Hopefully the other site will prove more fruitful. We could be back home by tomorrow. Though I do believe that I promised you some books last time we were out. Would you like to stop by a bookseller?” This time his eyes flicked over to her, looking for a reaction.

  She pretended not to notice, “Having something to study would be practical. There would be less time you would need to leave your work for more lessons.” Her frustration slipped through cracking that one word before she could settle her voice.

  “Alright. We can stop for spellbooks.” His eyes returned to the road.

  Though she was sure she was imagining it, she thought she might have seen the echo of a crease in his brow that lasted the rest of the long walk.