73 Love is war

"How is he?" I asked as I offered Lavi a towel.

He had just come out of Erion's room, his soaked robe slung limply on his arm. Lavi had been helping Erion stabilize his mana. 'Thunderstorms attract too much of his raw power,' he told us when we attempted to enter the room earlier but found ourselves not allowed.

"He'll be fine. At times like this, we just let him piece himself back together." The wizard draped the towel over his shoulder-length hair. "It brings back bad memories." he said softly.

"Why didn't I know about this?" Althea was leaning on the wooden walls on the hallway—we both were.

The two of us had been waiting in silence, wrapped in dry towels with our clothes still moist from the rain.

"Because nobody was supposed to know," Lavi sighed. "Well some people used to know about this. But something happened. So the emperor ordered my father to wipe out everyone's memories about 'that day'."