Nectar of War: The Song of Verity and Serenity (The Nectar of War Series Book 1)

ROANER KORSANA

VAIGON CITADEL

I T IS LATE, TOO late.

The portal is just within my grasp. The moment it appears, I see the darkness of woods on the other side. Even through the darkness it is like a small light opening.

I know I can fully open it.

But I do not.

I need more time . . .

I once wanted all of this time I have had to be gone. Now I want time back. If I wanted to, I could make it happen, I could very easily turn back time. But that calls for ruining fate as well as calling for my ruin because I chose to change destiny.

Now, I want nothing more than time.

I am a Sorcerer with a bloodline connected to the greatest Sorcerer known to our world, it is only natural that I can open a portal with ease. I just needed to know how to, and now that I know how to, I do not wish for it to be open just yet.

There is more for me to figure out. More for me to understand before Levora comes walking through the other end.

My mother is my voice of reason and always has been. Between my father and my mother, she is a gentle breeze, and my father was a tornado ready to rip through homes. They leveled one another out faultlessly. My father gave me textbook intensities of chaos to level out my gentleness I received from my mother.

“It is past midnight,” her hand gently touches my cheek as I fix the wood in the fireplace.

I do not answer her. I continue to rearrange the wood, and I can feel her eyes boring into my back as she prepares tea.

Her voice is soft as it travels across the room. “Why are you silent?”

I stand from the fireplace, and she suddenly appears with tiny teacups.

“Confusion.”

“Come, sit.” She waves her hand before disappearing in front of me and reappearing on the chaise not far from the fireplace.

When I sit with her, she continues to gaze at the fire. “Confusion, you say.” She begins. “Why?”

I had sex with a woman and now I want to know everything that is in her head. More than I wanted to know with Levora.

She could listen in on my thoughts if she wished to. One thing about my mother, she will always make me say it, either she hears it in my head or not.

“A woman.”

She laughs. “We are confusing individuals, are we not?”

“I cannot say she is confusing; she is rather blunt. I am the one confused. Inflicted feelings, so to say.”

My mother slowly turns and she stares at me for a prolonged period of time, I cannot look at her, so I keep my eyes on the sparking fire.

“You have never spoken of a woman to me other than Levora . . . have you known her long?”

Have I?

What possible past life have I known her in other than the now?

“How long does it feel that you have known her?” She rephrases her question.

When her eyes close and she is quietly resting next to me, I think I have seen it before.

Have I not?

“Years.”

“And Levora?”

Who is Levora now?

What kind of woman is she?

Who has she become?

“What of her?” I ask over the cracking wood.

The longer I stare at the fire, the more I see Esme in an erratically joyous state laughing with Maivena over supper.

“Oh, Roaner.” She quietly breathes. “Darling, sexual connections live with you forever, you must be careful. I have told you not to lie with women you do not have intention of staying with for a prolonged period of time.”

“Who is to say I do not wish to?”

When I look at her again, her tattooed, light brown skin is flashing in the hues of the fire. I can see the disappointment growing on her face.

“Do you?”

I shake my head. “I do not know.”

“What will happen when Levora comes home?” I was dreading this question. “You will have to stop seeing this woman if you plan to be with Levora like you originally hoped. There will be no way for you to have her in your life nor you in hers. It will need to be like she never existed.”

“That is a far stretch.” I challenge her.

“It is not,” she demands. “This woman has you confined somehow. So deep that you are coming to me for help. I am willing to help you if you are honest with me.”

I put down the undrunk tea on the floor and rub my eyes searching for some form of clarity. “I do not know why I am so consumed.”

“Desire is a thief in that way.” She responds. “What are you going to see through? This woman, or Levora.”

“I will not just leave Levora where she is.” I retort.

She smiles and her head tilts. “I did not say that. Did I?”

No, but as much as I want to bring her home, I need her to stay where she is for the sake of my sanity.

“Levora has been gone for years,” she cautiously speaks. “I feel it is only natural that you are scratching at the walls in anticipation to have forms of intimacy, and the moment you receive it you think it is something more than what it is.”

No, something that is unreal does not feel like this.

“If I bring Levora home, that means never knowing what will come of now.” I weigh the options before me. “If I know what will come of now, there is a chance I would never want to bring her home.”

I will lose my mind if I do not know what could come of Esme.

My mother sets her tea on the ground next to mine, as she leans in her long braids fall around her thin shoulders and she encompasses me into her warm embrace.

“Have you spoken to this woman about how you feel?”

“No,” I force a laugh. “I am not ready for her to run away yet.”

“You are forgetting one thing,” she says as her hand places upon my head that is pressed into her shoulder.

I look up to her. “What is that?”

Her dark eyes are bright as she stares down at me. “Either you bring Levora home or not. What is meant for you will never get lost on its path to you. It will always come home.”

She is feeding a thought about Esme that is not real.

A thought I have had plenty, and I will continue to avoid that thought.

I stand abruptly and my mother looks up to me. “Where are you going?”

“Although it is late, I do have business to tend to.” I lean down and kiss her forehead. “I will see you again soon.”