What if he was wrong? What if it had all be coincidence? Roran would make a cool of himself and Ysabel would move out and back to wherever she was from. The stories would linger from her but would never reach his ears. Yet, if it was all true, by some slim chance, and he failed to do something, she'd be dead. He'd be punished by the gods, no doubt they'd return to punish him for his insolence. It all pointed to his suspicions, despite how unlikely they were. The way she healed Rannor, the sudden halting of the mountain storm- it all added up, surely. Magic had died with the gods too... 

The blonde quietly ignored her question. How was he supposed to word it? He couldn't just say it.. He looked up and tried to find the words. He was grasping at straws however, struggling hard to find the strings and sentences he needed to express what he had suspected. Then, Ysabel changed her question. It was easier to answer. 
"Nothing. I can't leave." He sighed and sat himself in the chair Derrin had been sat in all evening. "I will tell you that Andor is not safe. Nowhere the King touches is safe for you. Not Horngul, not Mathlas to the west. Not even the slave bays to the south." Quickly Roran lowered his voice. "Wherever the King has power, you're life is in danger. I can't leave this place, but you must go south. You must get to the Wastes and find the desert city." 

The stories he'd grown up with spoke of a city hidden in the sands. It was a pilgrims challenge to find the city, to trust the gods and have them guide. The city was said to be surrounding an open temple. It was built high, solid marble walls, shining bright in the sun. It had no ceilings but instead sat open to the sky. There was no rain in this city but instead, underneath ran well hundreds of feet deep, filled with water that would keep them going for centuries. The legends told of the Gods Kings and Queens travelling to the city to determine their linage, their true place. In the centre of the temple was a pool. A ceremony would be performed and if the subject was truly one of Mirelda's children, the skies would open, raining down the water that would keep the city going. 

Roran flicked his eyes back over to the door and paused. He held a hand up to silence Ysabel. He stayed quiet for some time before relaxing. He turned his eyes back to the woman and sighed slowly. He couldn't let her go.. Yet was she techincally a prisoner? He'd be punished, severely. Incredibly.. He brushed his hands over his forehead and tried to understand what he was supposed to do. Perhaps he was the only person alive who knew where Ysabel would be safe. Perhaps he was the only person alive who knew what she was. 
"I can't come with you, but I can show you the way." He stood slowly and unlocked the door. He'd find her a sword and some food, money and a bag. Then he'd send her south, tell her she needed to trust herself when travelling the Waste. "I will walk you to the back gate, but i can't follow you out. I'm risking a lot letting you out, but I'm risking my life following you."