“Brynya was a good choice for Atara. Uncontested for what? Four hundred years?” I smiled at the memory of our passed Lady.
“Nearly half a millennium,” he corrected. “People stopped challenging her after she was powerful enough to create a vortex that could level entire cities. The Atarans had finally accepted that she was the best choice as a protector with no Worthy.” His smile faltered. “But she still wasn’t powerful enough to save them…”
We fell into silence. Nikan and I rarely talked about Atara. Even after twenty years, it was painful to remember. His sister by blood, Tsirra, was also an air wielder, and aspired to be just likeBrynya when she was older. Every time Brynya was brought up, he thought of her. I had never met her, but I wondered what her life would have been like if it weren’t cut so short.
Nikan got up and walked away, erected two tents, and went into one—where he remained. I tended to the horses and waited.
