I wrote 10k this week, landing just over 50k total now.
I find myself lacing in several loose ends into the story that even I am not sure what I’m doing with it yet. If I don’t weave them in at some point, I’ll go back and nix them, but at the moment, Harkin, and Samael are doing curious things I haven’t fully fleshed out yet and I created a character kind of in the background when I made Pyre’s first chosen link and I haven’t decided if he will matter or not.
Setting up those possible subplots was the biggest addition to the story this week aside from doing some work on Zuriel and Aila’s relationship. It feel a bit strange with three strains actively going now, to just pick one for a snippet, and given how much I wrote this week I think I’ll give a little peak into at least two of the threads.
Enjoy!
“What’s this?” Zuriel took the sword more reflexively than conscious decision.
“Your sword, what else would it be?”
“My sword?” Zuriel looked down at the sheathed sword in his hands. The belt and scabbard were obviously new, the faint scent of leather reached his nose as he drew it closer to study the hilt. His eye was immediately drawn to the green stone set in the pommel that, he was disappointed to find, he didn’t recognize. He wrapped his hand around the wooden grip which he guessed was Alder. The guard was titanium, hard enough to block most metals and he grinned as he became aware of the faint presence of a cold imbuement.
He licked his lips, a smile he couldn’t suppress spreading as he pulled the sword from its scabbard. He held the sword up and turned it, taking in the simple beauty of the double-edged blade. The beautiful and strong Afigus steel was forged straight and clean with a fuller running down the center of the blade.
He held the sword out a moment before swinging it down in a slicing motion to the left, then the right, getting a feel for the balance.
“Hand and a half. Double-edged. Versatile. You can weld it single handed with a shield or two handed.” Cyrus stepped closer. “At least, you will be able to weld it single handed. Put it on, we’ll work on drawing and get you familiar with the weight and balance of it.”
Zuriel sheathed the blade and drew the belt around his waist. With Cyrus’ unusually patient guidance, he got the blade situated comfortably on his off side.
“Alright,” Cyrus stepped back, leaving ample space between them to draw swords. “It sounds easy to draw a sword, but given that you’ve never done it, understand there is a right and wrong way to do it.” He demonstrated a smooth draw, gripping the sword smoothly in both hands and falling into a simple starting stance.
Zuriel tried to imitate the motion, but the sword seemed to catch in the scabbard causing his hand to slip off the hilt entirely. As the sword tipped down, he grabbed at it reflexively earning a set of deep cuts as his hand involuntarily closed on the blade in his attempt to catch it.
He cursed and drew his hand back, allowing the blade to slide free and land in the dirt beside him throwing up a small cloud of dust.
Cyrus sighed as Zuriel clinched his fist to slow the bleeding. He could feel Aila’s eyes on him and his face warmed with embarrassment.
“Kal!” Cyrus called for the field healer stepped forward to examine Zuriel’s hand. “In the future, I would recommend just letting the sword drop.”
After another deep breath, Harkin opened the door and stepped inside. Fala had traded in her seductive dress for a more practical suit of leather armor.
“Ah,” she smiled at him. “I assume they told you I will be your boss for the remainder of my time here?”
“Yes.”
Fala studied him for a long moment. “I’m not going to attack you. Relax.”
“Why are you doing this?”
Fala shrugged and turned her attention back to a pack she was loading up on her bed. “You interest me. I am not accustomed to being refused and you are such a perfect specimen for my purposes I am not willing to give up just yet.” She looked over her shoulder and grinned at him. “I’ll win you over yet.”
“I can’t leave the grounds.” He raised his cuffed wrist as he eyed the bag she hefted onto her shoulder.
“If I were taking you out with me, you would be carrying the bag.” She looked over the room a moment before nodding to herself. “No, I just wanted to make sure my request had been granted.” She passed Harkin who turned to follow her. “I will be back for lunch at the pentacle. Please be here with it. You’re free till then.”
Harkin frowned as she stepped through the door. He stood standing in the empty room a moment trying to make sense of the new situation he found himself in. Fala had had him assigned as her personal servant within the palace. He was safe within the palace, but at greater risk of her bed.
Information. He needed more information.
He went to the door and opened it to peek out into the hall. He listened carefully before closing the door softly. He was alone for now. He turned back to the room and examined it. The bed was unmade, two trunks were set at the foot of the bed, one open, one closed. He went to the open trunk and carefully searched it. Just clothes and a disturbing number of weapons. What use had a sorceress of her level of so many daggers? There were at least ten. With a frown, Harkin resettled the items and moved to the second trunk.
