"Any my answer remains." Landeril was obviously stubborn, trying to get Maliken to drag him along with her, possibly years of work. Maliken was certain he didn't understand what it was he was asking for. He was married, his wife wanted a child, and travel was enough of a hassle, not to mention a danger, already. Maliken shook her head slowly. "I will consider your offer, but your Iris deserves more attention. You said she wants a child, give her one. The road is no life for a young mother, keep her safe. But, if you are this dedicated to me, for what reason I cannot be sure, then I'll shall speak to you before I leave Denval. If your offer stands and your situation changes, then I will allow you to accompany me." Maliken sighed, thoroughly exhausted with this subtle civil debate of whether or not it was alright to bring Landeril into this mess.
"I know nothing of Syliras, but I have heard of a place, Sahova. They have golems there. Creations of iron and magic that thrive with life. If these people can create such a thing, can't they teach me to make an arm that works? I can't see why not." Maliken looked up into the sky, offering up a single moment to hope, to believe in her dream, to accept that very faint possibility that it was achievable, that she could return almost to normal, that Izurdin can look at her and smile rather than be ashamed of his crippled daughter. Hope was dangerous, it was rare she sacrificed any time for the sake of it. "Keep your word to Izurdin. I prefer actions over them. Words can shatter lives too easily, but never will they rebuild them." Maliken looked over at Landeril, her eyes reacquired a strong dark cold gaze, a sign of passionate pain. She already let go of her hope, such a short life it was. |