Beneath the Great Willow

Chapter 3 - Troublesome Creatures

 Staring up at Karl, Dorian jabbed a finger towards Fina. "Our Valedictorian wants to beat you in a fight." This statement caused Fina to snap her head from Karl to him and back to Karl.

"That's not what I said!" Fina said, a look of uncertainty casted across her nervous face as she took a step back instinctively. "I would not dare speak of such nonsense." She brought her hand to her chest, speaking up to Karl. "I was just wondering who would win in a fight between you and Dorian."

Karl rested his elbows on the oaken railing, a look of dismissal on his face. "I'm not dumb, you know." Letting one arm dangle while the other one was used to rest his face, Karl let out a huge sigh. "But just so you know, I'm more than strong enough to take the two of you at once. After all, I am the strongest warrior the Harrow house has ever produced."

Fina rolled her eyes while Dorian collected his shortsword from the boy working the armory storeroom, completely disregarding Karl's meaningless words. He gazed at his shortsword, and although only a day has passed since he last felt the touch of its leather scabbard, it always made him smile when he held the item he treasured so dearly.

The traditional Thalanorian embroidery running down the sides of its scabbard aligned with the calluses on his palms and fingers as he unsheathed it ever-so-slightly to catch a glimpse of the shiny steel that was forged at the blacksmiths' back in his hometown of Hessing.

Custom ordered by his father and designed by a dear smith friend of his, the shortsword only a forearm's length long was meant to suit Dorian's short stature when he was younger. And despite growing out of it long ago during puberty, he chose to keep the trusty blade by his side as with it, he completed one commission after another.

He even dropped the physical combat training course for three semesters just to learn to dual wield weapons after he obtained his second and often unused weapon, a warpick.

"Are you even listening?" Karl questioned loudly, waving a hand in front of Dorian's face as he made his way fully down the stairs and to the counter.

Dorian gently attached his sword to the hook on the left side of his belt before turning to Karl. "No, I am not." He turned around, preparing to leave for class when something, or well, two things, anchored him in place.

The young prospect of the Harrow house gripped Dorian by the left wrist, while the genius valedictorian blessed by the Tidemother held on to the back of his tunic.

"What do you two think you are doing?" Dorian asked, a tinge of irritation evident in his voice. "I've got physical combat training, and so do you." He raised an eyebrow at Karl before twisting his head the other way to look at Fina. "And you have whatever academic course you take, so let's not loiter here and get to class."

Karl pulled Dorian closer, looking down at him with his dark violet eyes. Fina, on the other hand, let go of his tunic. "I don't know what is wrong with you, but nobody treats me with such disrespect." He spat on one of Dorian's brown boots before shoving him to the side and retreating back up the stairs to the second floor. Just before he got to the top of the stairs, he turned to look at Dorian. "And forget what I said earlier about not sparring you. I'll make sure you're not considered a candidate for the treasure hunt in the slightest."

With a sigh, Dorian opened his mouth to retort, but at the sight of Karl vanishing behind a closed door, he closed his mouth.

Dorian then turned to Fina, who wore a slight smile of relief at the turn of events. "You need to take responsibility for this." He grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her to face him after she didn't respond. "Okay? If I wind up getting hurt or even worse after being entered into the treasure hunt, you'll be the one responsible for dragging me into all of this."