“I’m only suggesting that she would be immensely useful to you—if you can locate her,” Vylas said.
He brought the map between them.
“A few years before we stopped writing, she traveled to somewhere outside Messyleio, to learn some of the more unorthodox magical practices that fell out of favor in the west. She didn’t want to restrict herself, so she went there—where, as you know, there are still more remaining influences from the Nurudians and the Wars of Expansion than there are anywhere else.”
“You're saying I need to go to Messyleio.” Jularra's voice was flat.
“Well, that’s where I would start. If anyone knows where she is, it would probably be someone over there.” Vylas lifted his palms in a shrug. “She might be able to help. However, I have no idea if she’s alive, or what her… disposition may be. If you go, I can’t stress enough how careful you must be about whom you speak with and what you say. The Messyleians haven’t looked favorably upon us in some time, considering Acorilan’s history with Hignriten. You’ll need to come up with a justification for your arrival, and for your need to speak with her.”
Jularra took a moment to consider Vylas’ advice. She slowly stood to stretch her legs.
“Can't I just tell them Vylas sent me?” she asked.
Vylas shook his head.
“Oh, I doubt anyone over there would know who I am. My name would have no meaning to them.”
“What if I just tell people I need to see Leona? Will her name be known?”
Vylas shrugged.
“She is probably more well-known than I. But I can’t say for sure.”
Jularra's vision sharpened. “Well, there’s not enough time to come up with anything more elaborate. I’ll tell them I’ve come to mend the discord that has grown between our lands. That I want to re-establish regular interactions, nurture our bonds, and re-dedicate our country to the growth and study of magic again.”
She turned to face Vylas.
“I’ll come to them with humility and respect.”
Vylas waited for further comment, then started to smile when Jularra added nothing.
“Do you mean that?” Vylas asked with a laugh.
“Mean what?”
“That you want to mend things. Nurture magic. All that?”
Jularra hesitated before responding.
“Yes,” she said firmly. Vylas’ eyebrows raised. “I do,” she said, with an extra edge. “I do mean it. I obviously need their help, but it’s a perfect excuse to try to re-establish our ties with the coastal nations.”
“Well, then,” Vylas started as he rubbed his hands together. “You need to prepare for adversity. Friends will not be made quickly, and any made will be difficult to maintain. We should both reach out to any contacts we have in the area and have them anticipate your arrival. Hopefully they can leverage some of their relationships to make your work that much easier.
“What kind of escort will you take?” Vylas wondered.
Jularra’s eyes narrowed. “I was planning on traveling alone with Vylas.”
“Well, that’s just ludicrous,” Vylas replied. “You can be the most powerful sorceress in the world and still somehow be killed by a street thug having an off-day.”
Jularra rolled her eyes and sank back into the chair. “Come on. I know it’s risky. But there’s no way I can travel with guards. I might as well fly banners for the whole continent to see.”
“You know what I mean, Jularra. You don’t have to go to the extreme and bring an entire army, but there are varying degrees of options in lieu of that.”
Vylas reached for another log and placed it on the fire.
“You know I’m aware of how capable you are,” he continued. “You simply must ensure that you give yourself every opportunity to succeed.”
Jularra allowed the conversation to simmer a bit more in her mind. A morsel of surprise bubbled to the top. She peered over at Vylas.
“You’re not coming with me?”
Vylas turned towards her slowly. His face was constricted with uneasiness.
“Hmm? I never said—”
“Oh, don’t try that!”
He turned his head and had no response.
“You can’t be serious. How am I going to convince this extremely powerful witch to help me? I can’t just say, 'I was in the area and Vylas said you might be able to help!'”
“Jularra, I am in no shape or condition to ride that far. You’ll need to move a lot faster than I’ll be able to.”
Jularra was shaking her head before he finished.
“No. No. I don’t care how long it takes. There is no way I’m going to see this Leona without you.”
“You’re going to have to, Jularra! It is not a smart idea to bring me along. I’ll only hinder your progress.”
“You just finished lecturing me about giving myself every opportunity to succeed, yet your absence would be an incredible detriment! You must see how that makes no sense.”
Vylas said nothing.
“What?”
He still didn’t answer.
“Vylas, what?”
“I don’t want to see her!”
For the tiniest fraction of time, Jularra was still confused by his hesitance, so contradictory to his advice. Then it clicked. The resilient power and influence of an old love. She sighed and let her shoulders fall before turning back to the fire.
“You don’t need me on this trip, Jularra. Take these letters with you and show them to her. And I’ll write a new one for you to bring to her. If I were to show up with you, it would only enrage her.”
“What would you say to her in this new letter?” Jularra wondered. “I still don’t understand how, after this long silence, a letter asking her to help this stranger on her doorstep would be better than you asking in person.”
Vylas stuttered, lost for words, then grunted in frustration. He apparently hadn’t thought that far.
“Jularra, I don’t know,” he said with a bite of frustration.
“I can’t read your mind, Vylas,” she huffed.
“I haven’t written it yet. I don’t know what I would want to say.”
“Well, start thinking about it. If you’re not coming, and you’re just going to send me off with nothing but a letter, we need to talk about
