Lyndin seemed thoughtful, but when he spoke he still had no heat to his voice. He didn’t blame Oberon. In a way, he understood.
“You speak with such venom. I hope you never have to make decisions as I did. Perhaps it seems like there were better options, then and long ago. I never wanted him in the Rift. I am sorry he was trapped for so long. I know it wasn’t easy for him.”
Nor was it easy for the Velencians, but being trapped in the Rift was a different sort of Hell.
“I never wanted him miserable. But he is adamant that he doesn’t want to return his starseed to the Cauldron for repairs. I would not have made such an attempt if I did not feel it was the only option. This process has never been fast, or easy. On any of us. He’s in so much pain, Oberon. I wonder if you can even imagine.”
Caedus kept his secrets. Lyndin had a hard time imagining he would have started sharing them now.
“I was hoping you would tell me he’s doing well. I’d have liked to hear that he was getting treatment for his starseed. Or, at least, relief. Earth is very different from the world I am used to. I’ve heard talk of miracles here. I have wondered if there might be one left for him. But if not,” he shrugged slightly. “...We do not fit in here on Earth. I could have done things differently upon arrival, but I cannot guarantee we would have had any better outcome. The Negaverse is particularly ruthless. They’re quite vocal about their disdain for aliens. As things are, they tolerate us while we’re here. It’s a safety net, at least. I hope we’ll be out of your hair soon enough. I don’t wish to cause trouble for the people here. Or, for Caedus. I only want the best for my world. And, yours.”
