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Raefindan had an odd sense that just didn't make sense, as if Angela was not far.
How can that be? I'm finally settled with the fact that I'm here, and that this is real rather than just a setting in a book I've read. And I thought it was feigned history. But I've been to other places I didn't at first believe could exist, and have done things I never thought I'd do, things experts back where I come from insist are not possible, mere fleetings of overworked imaginations. Yet I was there, and now I'm here. But you, Angela, how can you be here? I thought you were in, well, you know, that other 'place'?
He heard no words in his mind, saw no vision, but in his mind's eye saw her, looking at him with that playful, completed, healthy and whole presence she had the last time he had seen her, after her death. And now he sensed her near. Not too near.
Angela, are you here?
He looked over the rolling grasslands, at the wind blown sky, his eyes stinging in the cool wind that blew off the not so distant Bay of Belfalas.
I wish that I could be with you again, and that it wouldn't end this time.
He felt a heaviness in his throat.
"What ails you, Raefindan?" asked Aeron, shaking him out of his reverie. He was riding next to him.
"Oh, just thinking of-" he paused. What could he say that was both true and safe? "-someone from back home."
"Where is home?"
"Nowhere that I can reach from here," Raefindan said with a note of irony.
"Sometimes, Raefindan," said Aeron, "I think you are moonstruck."
"Then I think that you are not far from the truth, my friend."
Aeron grinned and shook his head.
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