Awakening: Book 1 of the Vanquisher Series [GxG]

4a

Narvari sat on the front porch of her house cleaning her guns as she did every single morning. It was something her father used to do too. She shut her eyes, willing herself to ignore thoughts of him. There were more pressing issues to think about.

Her grandmother sat in her lazy chair from across her. The old woman looked fondly in the distance. Narvari had a feeling Anana was thinking about Narvari’s grandfather or father. She would often tell her stories about them. Narvari particularly enjoyed the heroic stories of her grandfather.

She smiled sheepishly when her grandmother caught her staring.

“What the devil are you grinning about?”

Narvari chuckled. She used to wonder who swore more– her father or grandmother. But from the stories Anana had told her, it seemed her grandfather was the worst offender. In fact, Anana had learned the habit from her late husband.

“Erasmus Shar was a fine gentleman,” Anana had once told her a long time ago. “But he swore like a drunk. He would often say that language without swear words was like a party without music.”

She wished she had met her grandfather, but the man died when her father was only fourteen years old. She wondered how Yabaga felt after losing his father at such a young age. Maybe he easily got over his grief. He probably left his daughter because he thought she would get over her grief too. Narvari’s grip on the metal tightened.

“Now you look sad,” said Anana.

Narvari returned to her senses. She ran her hand through her cornrows. What was wrong with her these days? Why did she keep thinking about her father? She had been fine without him. Thinking about him was pathetic. She steeled her resolve. Forget about him.

Narvari forced a small smile to keep her grandmother from worrying. “I’m not sad,” she said, turning her attention back to her guns. Her pride and joy. “I’m just thinking.”

She felt Anana’s eyes on her but Narvari didn’t look at her.

Right now, she could not be distracted as she poured her entire soul into getting her guns squeaky clean. Once she cleaned the gun, she put it right back in the trunk and took another one.

“You’re going to marry that thing someday, aren’t you?” Anana said.

Narvari smirked. “Absolutely. And you are invited to our wedding.”

“You need friends.”

“I have friends.”

“First of all, you have only two friends and one of them is nine years old.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Narvari put the clean gun into the black case and shut it.

“You need more friends your age.”

“Jimbaga is my age.”

“Don’t sass me, child. You know what I mean. You’re very young, my child. You should enjoy the world and experience many things. Life has so much to offer.”

“Sometimes one good friend is all you need, Anana.”

“Hmm,” Anana said. “I guess that is true.” She smiled fondly. Narvari recognized the glint in her grandmother’s eyes. She often had it whenever she was thinking about her late husband. “Do you believe in soulmates, my child? In true love?”