The Ancients

Chapter 23

The skies turned gray after the bottom of the sun rose above the horizon. Not dark enough that they worried about rain, but enough to keep both Liam and Vipin in a grim mood.

Ajlen refused to allow the talks from the night before to affect any more of their day. He pressured Vipin into her elven lessons again, threatening her with Ryland's idea of only speaking to her in elvish until she caught on.

She was almost annoyed enough to take him up on that if it meant she didn't have to talk to him. Though, in the end she knew she would regret that decision, so she bit her tongue.

As the sun fell Ryland went to find meat for last-meal leaving the three to set up camp. They'd already started a well-lit fire before Ryland returned, Liam and Vipin sparred while they waited, already having taken three nights off.

Ajlen watched them, twirling one of his blades between his fingers absentmindedly. His mind wandered back to Arvirum, wondering if his guardian had made it back safely. There was no doubt in his mind how powerful of a warrior Zaoron was. But there had been so many goblins... He was still unsure how they four had survived them.

He couldn't imagine how Vipin must feel, having to leave behind the dragon she'd just resurrected. Just a hatchling, and they had never found out where the dragons had taken him in the first place. He watched the half-elf duel her prince. She still didn't seem fully present no matter how hard he had prodded her throughout the day.

Ryland returned with rabbit just as the sun had started to disappear under the horizon, Mokosh's two moons rising to light the night. Liam and Vipin sat, their arms heavy and breaths clouding in front of them.

Ajlen stoked the fire as Ryland skinned and gutted his game. "Do you mind if I start to practice with you?" he asked, his eyes still glowing with his focus on the flames. Vipin and Liam exchanged looks. "I don't want to start losing my touch, and perhaps I could help Liam with his left arm. I noticed you're misstepping quite a bit."

"It sounds like a good idea," Vipin admitted. "I can only help you so much. I can't even use my left arm."

"I don't mind," Liam agreed. "I'm not going to turn down the help. The sooner I'm less of a liability the better."

Vipin's mouth twitched to a frown. Liam had been one of the best swordsmen in the kingdom, it was truly a shame his father would never knight him. Every knight in Zherune shared that sentiment. Yet, now, he was a liability. Even with the ability to rotate his arm, his dominant hand still couldn't form a fist let alone hold a grip. He was having to relearn everything, how to dress, how to eat, how to buckle his sword – let alone how to yield it in a real conflict. He was right, but the distaste of his self-deprecating comment was still sour in her mouth.

"And maybe I could start teaching you how to better use magic," Ajlen said to Vipin.

His words pulled her back into the conversation with her brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"Well, we could start with helping you control the magic you're already sensitive to and start working our way up from there. That would probably be easiest," Ajlen explained.

"I'm not sensitive to any magic," Vipin snapped defensively.

"You are," Ryland countered boredly. "You just didn't know what to look for."

"And what exactly would I have been looking for?" she demanded, aggravated by his extensive knowledge of her new body.

"Well, for every elven race there are different signs, right?" Ajlen asked, easing them back out of tension. "And Sylvain Elves are more sensitive to nature and the earth, so that's what you'd be most sensitive to."