Ink Forged

~A Surprise~

Maevus' eyes locked on the sword, but she pushed it gently to the side as she strode forward. Grabbing his arm, she pulled him into the light in an effort to get a better look at his injuries. She didn't miss the way he winced, but otherwise his face stayed blank.

"Take it," he said, his voice raspy. He wagged the sword at her. Maevus opened her mouth to protest, but Voron's amber eyes flashed. "Take it."

She swallowed her words and took the sword from him. It was hiding in a plain sheath, but she knew as soon as she tugged the blade free that it was hers. Closing her eyes, she brought the blade to her nose and inhaled deeply. The scent of brimstone and something oddly like elder berries hit her—the smell of dragon-fire. 

The blade had been forged hundreds of years ago, by one of the first Dragon-Charmed Encants. It was the only remaining artifact that linked Maevus' world to that of her dragons—at least, that she knew of anyway. When the time was right, that sword was her only key into that other world.

Something that had tied itself into a knot inside Maevus relaxed. She took another deep breath, then flinched slightly when a footstep came a little too near. Her eyes flew open and she turned to find Lorn had come to stand beside her, his eyes glued to the sword.

He lifted a hand, then met Maevus' glare. Lorn gave a rueful smile, running the hand he had lifted through his hair. "You got something special there."

"Apparently," Voron said before giving Maevus a short bow, his movements stiff. "Very special. Glad I could be of service." These words were cold and flat. She watched with her mouth gaping open as he turned smartly on his heel, green cloak flaring. He was down the stairs and halfway across the street before her brain kicked back into gear.

"Wait!" she called, making her way down the stairs as fast as she could. She ignored Lorn's shout behind her and darted past an empty horse-drawn wagon, trying to catch up to Voron. "Please, give me a moment!"

Voron's head was down, his hands in his pockets. A stitch started to form in Maevus' side.

"Are you really gonna make me chase you?" she yelled, trying to pick up her pace. "Voron!"

He continued on a few more steps before she saw his shoulders heave with a sigh. He halted in front of the dark windows of a confectionary. Maevus slowed from the pitiful trot she had managed, cautiously approaching the soldier. He didn't turn to look at her until she was only a few feet away.

His expression was still mostly blank, but there was a sullen curve to his mouth and a tightness around his eyes that she didn't find encouraging. He crossed his arms and leaned his shoulder against the wall behind him, clearly wishing he was anywhere else but near her.

Maevus cleared her throat awkwardly, hitching the strap of the sheath up higher onto her shoulder. "Voron what..." She bit her lip, eyes cataloguing his various cuts and bruises. "Voron, what happened?"

The soldier cocked his head. "Why, whatever do you mean, Miss Kildaren?"

She let out a breath, closing her eyes as she shook her head. She deserved this.

"I...I did this." She forced herself to meet his gemstone eyes. "Didn't I."

Voron stared at her for a moment, a muscle in his jaw fluttering as he clenched his teeth. Then he closed his eyes, obviously struggling to master himself. It almost surprised her, his anger. He had always seemed so calm whenever she'd seen him on the march to Valmor. Like nothing could ruffle him. Even when Captain Adela had whipped him across the face, he hadn't done much more than wipe the blood away. Guilty as she'd felt over these past days, she hadn't been prepared to face his anger.