II - Sigh of Smoke

Chapter 47 - Don Your Weapons

-Lucan Worshire-

He watched with fascination as Atlanta showed him through the the armoury. Perhaps they weren't supposed to be there, but she didn't mind, nor did it seem she cared. She had snuck him past the guards, lectured him on his loud feet, and picked the lock to the armoury with a hair pin she had taken off Menaleen's head when she was far too busy reading.

Lucan did not know why all of a sudden Atlanta felt enthusiastic, or why she was suddenly treating him like something other than a rival. The way she pulled at him, fingers gripped tightly around the hem of his sleeve, made him curious.

She had stolen him away from the others with a quick, uncharacteristic smirk—and even stranger he blinked and complied, hypnotized by his curiousity to understand her change in attitude. Surely, there was a purpose for this? When she brought him into a room filled to the brim with weapons, he wasn't exactly sure what he was expecting.

Swords, hand axes, battle axes, spears, staffs, bows and crossbows—everything he could've ever imagined. Black steel, Valenthyrie Crystal, even the irons of the Wyvengardian smiths and mines. Curved blades, double edged, even swords of shapes he could have never dreamed. His amazement must have been very plainly depicted on his face, because Atlanta couldn't help a chuckle.

The armoury was an elliptical room, rising upwards like a hollow tower. Directly at the top was a sun window, tinted at the edges, and allowing the midday sun pour in. The room's height went as far up as perhaps three stories, and it's width was about the same as one of King Cragon's more modest courtyards. Weapons were situated onto the walls with bolts sticking out to hold up handle guards, or slots that cradled javelins and staffs. On the floor there were many quivers of arrows, each set seemingly of different make and carving. 

Lucan had thought Wyvengard's armoury was impressive, but this? This was incredible.

Atlanta waved her hand in front of his eyes to get his attention, and he blinked, a little surprised at the company he had forgotten he had. Her smirk was unmistakably amused. Then, when she had Lucan's full attention, she turned around and burst into a run. With a leap she was at the second row of swords overhead, fingers latched onto a brick slightly uneven in size. Then, with another bound, she lifted herself up to the next level of weapons above that. Lucan watched, mystified, at the woman as she maneuvered about the weapons like it was an inborn instinct, icy eyes barely watching as she found the next foothold, and the next, and the next.

Perhaps this was how all the weapons were reached, as there were no stairs. However, with one sidelong glance, Lucan noticed a tall ladder by the door they had entered from. Atlanta didn't seem to notice it, or want it. Mayhaps this armoury was built to test the warriors and assassins' skills.

Then she spoke, only a little breathless at the effort.

"This one," Atlanta gestured to a sword of folded black steel, not curved like the others around it, with a shimmering blue gem at the hilt. She swung slightly, as if teased by wind. "This one belonged to Nhemvae, the Serpent Queen of the Dusts. They say she ruled with her twin brother, Lord Regent, declaring herself to have no God above her. She successfully led a retaliation against an Outlander tribe who wanted to take the Blackstone Islands—the one across the Pravian Strait—which is directly south of us. This—" Atlanta swung over a couple swords over and pointed to an axe with a handle that seemed to be bound in a serpent's tail, "—belongs to her brother, Nhamvat, a pious man who named the other set of islands Xarian's Tail. He's best known for securing trade between Zarkarath and Entheria, although he also led his own troop against the invading tribe from the Outlands. As you know the First King's Law..." As Atlanta said this, she looked to Lucan expectantly, and he finished her thought. He recited it like it was printed on the back of his hand.