A Shield of Faith (BOOK 4)

Chapter 29

FENRER

Hammers beat against the length of blades and shaped them into weapons for the high tides. Fire from the forge brightened up the thick wood of the manor of his grandfather's skill, whom he never got the chance to meet, having been lost to a Derelict long before Mother and Father bound their lives together. It pounded in his ears in the legendary works of Hanekan ideals. Embers bounced against the stone as runesmiths carved out and soaked fullers to hammer the guards in place. He laid flat against his back and melted in the heat, reforged in the fires of the dawn. Sweat slipped down his palm when he tried to move it, and every breath rattled with the smoke and ash of the past, tainting his senses with the Desecration's screams. His own heartbeat became thunder in his ears, and he squirmed in the damp discomfort stuck to him.

I need to cool off.

He unfurled his fingers with his dwindling strength, though the motion sent a burst of dark worms across his world. Wrists overturned, he dragged himself by his arms and tugged his legs out to put his feet flat against the ground. Just a bath, I won't take too long... Though no one was there to stop him as he lifted himself out of his bed, resting his fingers on the end table where Maria left a bundle of the frozen syrup by a cup of water full of little ice cubes. Yuven needs me. He dragged his feet behind him as he wobbled his way to the door frame to place his hand against it, fighting with his lungs and the blood pounding in his ears as he tried not to collapse all over again into the forge underneath his skin. He twisted the knob and let the door swing on its own hinges. In the back of his throat, a distinct taste of rust remained, full of ash. It dried out his tongue when he tried to take in another breath, heavier on his ribcage as he forced himself past the rocks in his soles to pull him through the small section where the Storm Warden Aurus sought refuge from the overwhelming features of the flow and aura.

Water sprinkled through tiny aqueducts which lined the outside courtyard, but he brought himself to the double doors, pushing through them. Lichen danced around little cascades slipping down glass, and he went for a door into one of the private bathhouses, stumbling on the step as he used his back to close it. He dragged his fingers against his brow to tug at the damp brown strands stuck to it. He pulled the curtain to shield the actual bath from the entrance area, tearing off his shirt to free himself of its too thick confines as he tossed it into the clothes basket sectioned in the wall. With a shake of his head, he wiped his brow once more of other strands, breathing deep as he went for the bath to twist the superheated metal of the faucet. It burst to life and poured into the large basin to swirl against the runes along the sides. Hands flat against the rim when he found the world teetering, he forced himself to the wall to get to his feet and untie his pants, resting his brow against the molten heat underneath the mountain, coursing through its stone foundations. And this is nothing — nothing compared to what Yuven must be feeling.

It continued to pound against the forge, every strike echoing with his heartbeat as he pushed all his clothes into the basket as the water finished its fill of the bath. The runes along the rim shone bright blue in cold invitation. This has to help. He slipped into the bath, and bit on his own jaw when the forge bubbled under his skin, the heat clashing with the cold. He used his arms to cling onto the edge and pressed his face into the crook of both. What is wrong with me? He bumped his palm against one of the runes to reactivate the icy temperatures, but the flames remained, reforging him when there was nothing left to forge.

He rested his chin on the edge and dragged his hand through his hair, listening to the distant sounds of life throughout the citadel, oblivious to the doom below. He cupped water into his palm and splashed himself with it, where every droplet left a trail down his cheeks and followed his jawline. Weary from the pounding beat, he slipped his fingers through the bubbled disturbances, unable to find his voice as he let streams fall off his fingers. Yuven. He frowned, then concentrated on the starlight. Yuven, I hope you know... that it's not because I do not want to be there. He spread his own river of thoughts though the blood flow pushed into his nostrils, and he rested his face against the rim, using his arms as a pillow. I would be, I will be... when I figure out what is wrong with me. He brushed his side and squeezed his hip when another pulsation of heatwaves sank through the world. I can endure. I will endure.