The Smith and the Knight

Lament

Gelehrter rose to his feet. The bed was comfortable, almost unbearably so. His hand rested onto his forehead as he took a moment to focus onto his well being.

His muscles felt unusually tense, the scent in the air sweet. Ana's room was desolate, save for a few items she kept from her adopted father. A minimalist's chamber with only a bed, a table and a small basket for her clothing.

He stood upright and fumbled about in the darkness. After a small effort, he pulled a shirt, his gambeson, pants, belt and boots onto his frame. Gelehrter glanced over to the bed once again. The blankets gently rose and fell, the shape of Ana's sleeping form caused him to smile.

"Do not tarry, you have places to be." Ernald's voice boomed in his mind.

He shook his head and merely stared at Ana's frame. The night before seemed as if it were another time, another place. Having endured the nuances of the Lower Sector, his mind struggled to placate him into believing he had spent the night with her.

And yet, here he stood. Never in his wildest dreams would he imagine taking the first step into her life, only to march out onto the fields of battle. Political or otherwise, his departure into the realm of Sanctuary felt final.

He found himself at a loss and quietly padded out of the room. The house he had come and gone through during his youth appeared smaller than it has ever been. Various items were cataloged, labeled and set aside. Some crates were covered in soot covered hand prints while others were unusually clean. As he entered into the kitchen and then the forge, he retrieved his blade.

The door behind him creaked open and the scent of coffee caused him to turn to the source. Ana padded stealthily behind him, her hand extending a mug. She avoided his gaze and stared at the dead forge. Outside, the windows revealed the early hours of the morning. A horizon which betrayed their sense of time.

Her emerald hues finally met his as she sipped at her mug. She had garbed herself in her usual attire: a shirt, pants, boots and an apron. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail, a stark contrast to her hair being loosely bound by two strips of ribbon.

"Where are you off to?" She asked, though in her heart an answer would be as vague as it normally would be.

"I am going to report to Gavilis. I imagine he would be elated to know I have returned and would pick my brain for any further information. The Lower Sector has not been documented for some time..." He trailed off, lost in thought for a few moments.

"I understand, you don't have to tell me everything." She smiled sadly.

"I-Its...not like I don't want to share with you what I know. Its just..."

"You are a Justicar. I am a smith. We both live very different lives. I create tools for destruction and you wield them to ensure we are all safe." Ana surmised and took a moment to shovel coals into the forge. "Help me with this before you go."

He busied himself with scraping the ashes into a stained bag. As he heaved it over his shoulder and into the training yard, the forge roared into life.

Gelehrter entered into the forge once again and spotted her resting an unfinished blade nearby while the forge continued to rise in temperature. She pulled harshly on the bellows in a rhythmic fashion and sweat already beaded across her brow.

As he approached, her ill-tempered expression softened. He gently placed a kiss onto her cheek and then turned to leave.

"Please be careful..." She whispered.

The cool morning air caused him to shiver involuntarily and he shook his head. Though it took only moments for him to acclimate, he found himself waiting for something.