Vuroth's Tear: Even the Gods Cry

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Aven and Donovan had ridden hard since leaving Candon. They hadn't stopped since they escaped the creatures, afraid to give them any opportunity to catch up. Both men were exhausted from the battle, and the ride without rest was hard, not only on them, but the horses as well. It was early afternoon of their second day riding when they finally made it back to the stables outside the low wall of Ravdian.

The stable boy met them at the gate and took the reins of both horses and Donovan handed him two silver coins, "These horses have been through hell, take good care of them and there will be two more for you."

The boy looked at the coins and with a big grin, he nodded, excitedly.

Aven looked at Donovan as they entered the city, he could see the dark bags under his friend's eyes, dragging his feet in the dirt with each tired step. They were both far too tired to fight again, if anyone attacked them to retaliate for the fight in the tavern, they wouldn't stand a chance. Aven watched the crowds of people around them, looking for any signs of hostile intentions against them. He saw no danger, but that didn't mean it wasn't there.

"I'm going back to the inn, I need sleep, I suggest you do the same. We need to stay close and out of sight for a while," Aven put a weak hand on his friend's shoulder, "those brothers are gonna want our heads, especially after you hit that one with Boiling Blood."

Donovan grinned, "He should still be feeling the effects, so I wouldn't worry about seeing him quite yet. Go see your beautiful innkeeper, Aven," He laughed as he started towards the tavern, "I'm going to get some food and a pint!"

As Aven stepped inside the inn, he let out a sigh of relief. Analda stood organizing and cleaning the main desk for customers he was sure would never come. The very sight of her quickened his heart and dried his mouth, his mind seemed to race and go silent all at once. He was so used to a constant feeling of rage burning within himself, a fire he suppressed deep down but could never extinguish but when he looked at her just then, watching her brush her long black hair behind her ear while she went about her day, he couldn't be more at peace.

She stopped and looked up to greet the person she noticed standing in the door and when she realized it was Aven, she seemed to lose the ability to speak. She stood, silently staring with wide blue eyes and a grin stretched across her face.

"You're back?" She hurried around the corner and stopped when she noticed the dried blood covering torn, swollen knuckles of his left hand and the bruises on his throat where the creature had grabbed him, "What happened to you?"

She grabbed his wrist and pulled him to her chair by the window. Aven sat and watched her inspect the wounds in the sunlight coming in through the cracked window beside them. Analda hurried around the counter and disappeared into the back room and when she finally returned, she carried a bowl of water with a cloth soaking in it.

She grabbed his wrist again and wiped away some of the blood, "These two knuckles are broken, this one is shattered. It looks like you punched a stone wall," She dabbed at the torn flesh, trying to clean the wounds of blood and dirt.

"At least it's not my sword hand," He waved his right hand and chuckled. Analda responded by putting pressure on the knuckles.

She looked at him with a clearly fake smile, "At least it's not your sword hand." Her face softened, and she began scrubbing again, "You don't have to be a tough guy all the time, you know." She felt bad for hurting him and tried to be extra gentle as she scrubbed, "So what exactly happened the other night at the tavern? I've been hearing rumors."