Chapter 138: Bond

Zendedari was surveying his surroundings now, a peculiar glow in his black eyes.

I know this place. Something happened here a long time ago that I should remember.

His hand went of its own volition to his throat, tracing the thin, almost nonexistent white line curving around his jugular.

Only a severe mortal wound can leave a scar.

He murmured it aloud under his breath, as if to himself.

Caitlin remained very quiet, holding herself still, wanting to allow any memory possible to come to Zendedari.

I have been here, some time ago. Perhaps a quarter of a century.

His head ached, but the memory shimmered, solidified instead of slipping away. His black eyes moved restlessly over the clearing.