Lanni hastened back to the sanctuary of the kitchen, the clatter of dishes echoing as she set them down with a force that betrayed her inner turmoil. As she hid behind her hands, her shoulders began to tremble. “Gracious, Lanni, are you okay?” Sifa’s voice cut through the tension, laced with genuine concern. “Should I summon Loka?” Lanni, shaking her head assertively, dismissed the idea without uttering a word. “Drink this,” Sifa urged, extending a comforting hand that carried a cup of steaming tea—its aroma blended with hints of chamomile and lavender, a concoction known for soothing frayed nerves. When Lanni attempted to grasp the cup, her hands shook with such ferocity that the liquid within teetered dangerously close to spilling over the rim. “Here, let me help.” Sifa’s voice was steady as she reclaimed the cup with gentle authority. She patiently guided it to Lanni’s quivering lips, allowing her to sip with minimal effort. “Did something happen with Marn?” Sifa inquired softly once Lanni had taken a few steady sips. Once more, Lanni responded only with a shake of her head, and Sifa offered the tea again, encouraging another sip. Lanni’s nerves began to relent, but as they did, a shadowy sensation rose within her—a feeling as if a dark entity sought to erupt. “Whiskey,” Lanni rasped, the word barely audible between trembling breaths. With a look of surprise, Sifa set aside the tea and reached for a bottle of whiskey. She uncorked it with expedience and poured a generous measure into the tea. Handing the fortified infusion back to Lanni, she watched her companion take a more assured gulp this time. The whiskey warmed Lanni up, giving her the courage she needed to face her inner turmoil. Feeling the whiskey’s strong gaze, she grabbed the bottle and took a few swigs, letting the burn of the alcohol calm the storm inside. It wasn’t him. He was someone else, she reassured herself silently. Let me handle this, she promised the darkness in her mind. The promise seemed to calm the darkness, making it reluctantly retreat back into her mind, where it lingered as a watchful but unconquered presence. “What’s up? What happened?” Sifa asked, concern filling her voice. She had never seen Lanni so distressed before. Lanni’s usual calm demeanor was now replaced with visible anxiety, showing deep lines across her face. “Troll,” Lanni managed to utter, her breaths coming in short, rapid bursts as she attempted to regain her composure. Sifa’s expression softened in understanding. “Tellic. Lamin and I met him last night. He seems nice enough.” Lanni let out a dry, mirthless laugh. “Nice trolls,” she echoed, the irony of her words leaving a bitter taste. “You don’t like trolls? But you’re on friendly terms with us Yarbs, and not to mention you get along fine with dragons, elves, gnomes, dwarves, unicorns, immortals, and even Tamerians. So what’s the problem with trolls?” Sifa’s confusion was evident; she knew Lanni to be one of the most accepting individuals she had ever met. Lanni’s gaze dropped, a shadow of a decades-old memory crossing her features. “I was captured by some trolls once,” she confessed, “held prisoner.” The events had occurred so long ago, yet her reactions now were raw, as if no time had passed at all. “Not by Tellic, though, right?” Sifa inquired gently, trying to differentiate Lanni’s past from their recent encounter. Lanni shook her head, her eyes closing briefly as if to shut away the resurgence of painful memories. “When I was just a child. Tellic… he just bears a strong resemblance to one of my captors.” The acknowledgment went some way to explaining her distress. “Perhaps Loka can help soothe you. Finish your tea and whiskey; it might take the edge off. I’ll go summon her,” Sifa said, rising to her feet with a purpose. Gratefully, Lanni nodded, taking solace in the familiar, warming taste of her drink. Soon after, Loka arrived with a comforting presence, casting a gentle spell that washed over Lanni, guiding her into a peaceful slumber free from the torment of dreams. When Lanni awoke, her mind was no longer shrouded in the panic of her encounter with Tellic. Her eyes were immediately drawn to a notification; her uncle had sent a message checking in on her well-being. She responded promptly, ensuring her uncle that she had recovered from her ordeal and that there was no reason for him to worry. It was the truth; she did feel better, centered once more. With a newfound resolve, Lanni returned to her job. After all, Tellic would only be around for another three years. She had survived a harrowing three years of captivity in her youth – compared to that, these coming years promised to be substantially easier. With this thought, Lanni’s spirit lightened, ready to face what lay ahead. #fantasy, #magic, #dragons, #hiddenlands