As soon as Eldan could get out of bed without feeling like hurling, he pestered Gylka to take him to the local archives scattered around Telsbury. What the healer said about belphine wasn't the end of it, certainly. This was the kaviste keijuis' domain. There must be another cure for it.

That's how Eldan spent the days leading up to his passage. Gylka would take him to the archives, and he would pore through the plant indices that were ongoing since Dwanzeig was established. There might be more in Acosa, the capital, but that's aiming higher than what Eldan was capable of. Even if he's a Rovalen by name, he could only go as far.

The indices were interesting, at least. Eldan might not be able to study it as if his life as a kaviste keiju depended on it, but looking at the colorful and often hand drawn illustration was enough joy in itself. His classmates were lucky to have been drilled with this knowledge for as long as they were.

Since this was Telsbury, no records about the elika listris were present. Brief mentions in the history tomes, but farther than that, nothing. Sucks. Without it, he couldn't understand what the krou must have felt or what he was supposed to do with his newfound magic and the connection they shared.

Today, Eldan strolled to his usual seat in the archive, ignoring the hostile stares from the other guests. Unlike him, they hunkered over bound tomes, trying to scoop information from the texts for their assessments later. The local academies weren't as lenient as the private scholars hired by well-off families. He could never understand the intricacies of that, but he could sympathize with them. Studying wasn't easy.

Eldan plucked the next tome in the niche he had been smoothing for the past week with his left hand. His right hand still needed checking after the healer undid the stitches and flushed out what he called the "inflammation". It's a gruesome sight, and Gylka still came close to fainting even though it's more than the second time she has seen it.

He took it in stride, though. If he found a more effective cure, he wouldn't have to sit through the painful surgeries and see his skin fester. That's why he asked the healer what made belphine a special type of poison. What he got was an explanation of the krou's biology that produces different substances to protect its body from getting sick and belphine was just a combination of them. Whenever the krou was stressed or threatened, their fangs and claws produced the concoction to stun their enemy and corrode whatever protective layer their enemies had, be it scales, bones, or feathers.

It made sense then, why the quilderfen didn't pursue the mother krou again. Its beak must have been worn away, and it couldn't afford to lose it. Why it would attack a nest minding its own business was something Eldan wouldn't ever understand.

And since belphine was essentially a corrosive substance to anything belonging to a living thing, Eldan must find something that would patch up the same thing. He was halfway through this tome and it's still early. He might stumble into something. Perhaps, it's his day.

A couple more pages and illustrations later, Eldan arrived at a specific page and regarded the bright red flower painted on its yellowing surface. It's beautiful; a shame he couldn't grow it himself. His eyes skimmed the description and properties described in the scribbled notes beside the illustration. It's...

He exhaled a relieved breath. "This is it," he muttered. Then, a bit louder, "This is it!"

Ignoring the annoyed looks thrown his way and the sharp shushing from the archive's master, Eldan shoved the tome back from where he took it and dashed out of the hall. The forest greeted him as soon as he passed the rim of the archive, with the whole place slotted in the middle of nowhere. It's amazing how Gylka always seemed to know her way around the thick wilderness like this.

Where was she, anyway? Wasn't it almost the time when she would come back for him?

He craned his neck to the canopies overhead. The afternoon sun shone through the spaces between the leaves. It wasn't enough to ward off the growing chill from the wind blowing through the undergrowth. Was the krou experiencing this too? He hoped so. If he had a choice to run free and fly off wherever he wanted, he would.

A weak mewl speared through his ears. He turned to the source to glimpse a streak of white flitting behind the colorful bushes. The leaves rustled, betraying the movement that shook them. "Is someone there?" He asked, knowing full well the critters couldn't answer him. His limbs tensed. "Is that you?"

Another mewl.

Eldan blew a breath and eased out of his tense stance. He tucked his hands into the pockets of his trousers, wincing when the tight hem hit his new stitches. The healer said the wounds would worsen before they start healing, and Eldan couldn't deny that. He just couldn't wait until such time it didn't sting anymore.

He approached the bush where the white blob still quivered underneath. The krou was trying to hide, and he couldn't figure out why. Was she playing with him? How come she never visited him once or even returned to the hovel he dug for her? It's been a couple of days, and yet, she still eluded him as if he had some sort of disease.

The tips of his boots neared the bush's roots, and the krou flinched and edged away, towards the opposite side of the undergrowth. Her small head turned to him before swiveling back towards her destination. Oh, no. She's running elsewhere, and who knew when Eldan would see her again?

"Wait!" He yelled, attempting to part the bush even as its sturdy branches fought him. "Stop!"

The krou paused, her tail wagging like a raslione's when they're agitated. Why? He hadn't done anything wrong.

As if hearing his thoughts, the krou yowled, training its glassy eyes towards Eldan's hands still locked in a battle with the striped woody branches of the bush. He followed the direction, and his gaze landed on the bandages turning the back of his hand white. Small streaks of red stained the upper layer, telling him he had torn through his stitches and that the healer and perhaps Gylka would be having his head later.

"Just...come here," Eldan said to the krou, edging out of the bush's personal space. She still hasn't moved, as if contemplating whether to heed his word or to scamper away. "I just want to talk. About...well, about whatever this is."

The krou blinked. Slowly. Her ears twitched here and there, filtering through the noise the forest must have been bombarding her with. Then, she ducked her head and pattered back where she came from. Eldan stepped back and let her sniff the tips of his boots before slinking around his legs, rubbing her fur against the hem of his trousers. The anxious energy from her system was gone now, and Eldan had half an inkling why he could tell.

It's through the familiar bond, and whether he liked it or not, their souls were connected now.

The krou looked up at him and meowed. Without taking up any lessons on elika listris, he seemed to know what she's saying. Even though there were no words. "I'm sorry too," Eldan replied. "And you don't need to apologize. You didn't do anything wrong."

She yowled again, following him as he retreated to a slab of rock and sat on it. Eldan chuckled as he watched her leap to his side and sit on her hind legs as if imitating him. "You're stressed and confused like I was," he said. "It's valid to turn cranky."

She didn't fight it when he reached out with his unbandaged hand and stroked her head, giving her a scratch under the chin. Her eyes closed and a steady purr rumbled deep in her throat. "I wish we could talk to each other," he said. "You know...with words?"

The krou's beady eyes flitted to his face. She blinked, then a crystal clear thought speared into Eldan's mind. We can.

His hand stilled on her fur. Did she just...?

We talk, the krou said again. Her voice inside his mind was distinct from his thoughts. It's like a thyminka came alive and had now lived rent-free at the back of his mind.

"How long have you known you can do that?" Eldan tilted his head at her, disbelief lacing around his tone.

The krou stalked towards him and sat on his lap. Her tail swished against his knees and shins, flicking imaginary insects away from them. Short time, she said. Her words were still clipped and limited. Maybe he could teach her more vocabulary? Eldan too far.

His eyes widened. "My name..." he blurted. "You know my name?"

I know. My friend, name, the krou replied.

"How come I don't know yours?" Eldan asked, absent-mindedly running a hand down her back. Her fur was soft. This must be what it felt like to touch a cloud. "Do you have a name?"

No name, the krou answered. Friend, give.

His eyebrows crept up. "You want me to give you one?"

The krou blinked again, its ears turning to the direction of Eldan's voice. That's a yes, then. Eldan tapped his chin and stuck a lip out. "A name....hmm," he pondered. What in Rudik's breeches should he name a familiar? Patterning it after plants seemed like a great insult, so he steered away from them. Hmm. Krou. White. Wings. Tail.

How about the Ancient language? While it's extinct, there were still fragments left in the names of cities, the local dialects, and yes, the names of the creatures. Xartela, the language spoken in small communities in Telsbury, has some interesting words. Eldan had the pleasure of learning some due to Gylka's lineage. What was the Xartelan word for friend?

"How about Sahili?" Eldan looked down at the krou who stared right back at him. "It means 'friend' in one of the dialects here."

The krou yowled. Like, she answered in Eldan's head. It byooti...bootyi...

"Beautiful," Eldan supplied, a smile pulling at his lips. "Shall I start calling you that now?"

Sahili, she replied. My name.

Eldan chuckled and pressed his forehead against hers. "That's settled then," he whispered. "You are Sahili."

Eldan friend, she said.

"Yeah, we're friends, and friends forgive each other," he replied. "I'm not mad about the wound, Sahili. You can stop worrying."

She was about to reply when the undergrowth rustled. Eldan let her dash off into the thick bushes just as Gylka emerged into the small clearing, huffing. "There you are, Eldan," his guardian said. "We must go back. Quickly."

Eldan frowned. "What for?"

A grim expression colored Gylka's features. "Your passage has just been moved up," she said. "We must hurry through the preparations."

He shot up from the slab he's sitting on. "When is it?"

Gylka met his eyes. "Tomorrow."