The Violet Flamberge

The Violet Flamberge: Chapter 21

A/N: Hey!! Sorry it's been forever since I've updated this. I'm going to finish posting this book to Wattpad before I publish it. Just so you know, The Crimson Claymore, The Obsidian Arrow, & The Chronicles of Starlyn are all now published!!! They're up on Amazon & Goodreads and could use reviews!! So if you haven't yet, please leave some reviews on them. They're really appreciated. This book is almost finished. I've had a hard time with it. I'm trying to give the series justice and tie up all loose ends for the trilogy, but it isn't easy. I took an extended break from it and wrote several other books I published. Dragonia: Rise of the Wyverns & Dragonia: Revenge of the Dragons. And I just finished a co-author book as well. But now I feel it is time to really dive into this and finish it, so watch up for updated rough draft chapters of The Infernal Flamberge, newly named to The Violet Flamberge! I hope you enjoy! As always, review & vote!

Chapter 21

Searon stood in front of the campfire, looking out into the distance, his shadow luminescent by the blazing fire. Sh'on stepped next to him. A soft hand grabbed her shoulder and squeezed gently. Searon clasped the hand with his own.

"I have healed as much as I can," Sh'on paused. "I do not know if she is going to make. Need to get her to Sudegam. Maybe the kheshlars will be able to to do more."

Searon sighed. "I feared as much. At least we were able to take the dagger out. Part of me wants to go back and find Arria."

"I understand your rage. But Anaela needs you here now."

"I know. It is the only thing holding me back."

"Aliqua should be back soon with some herbs. They should help. I don't know how fast we can travel with her condition."

Searon turned, walking back to the fire where Anaela lay unconscious. Xython sat next to her, keeping watch. Searon appreciated his friend. He rested a hand on Xython's shoulder. The large man nodded before standing and walking away. Searon sat on the ground next to Anaela. He placed his hand against her burning forehead. Cold sweat chilled his bare fingers. He knew how sick she was just because of her sweat. Kheshlars weren't prone to sweat, but especially in cold weather as the season changed.

"I wasn't strong enough to protect you. I'm sorry," he whispered.

He ran his hand through her short cropped hair, cringing as he looked at the terrible cut. Searon had never been a fan of short hair below the shoulders for a woman, but Anaela's looked even worse, her tips frayed, and the length uneven all the way around. Arria had humiliated Anaela with the cut.

"I will do everything I can to help you. I promise."

Leaves crunched behind him. Searon stood, unsheathing his claymore. At first he suspected Aliqua's return, but a man clad in armor came through the trees. Searon grinned as he returned his weapon to its scabbard.

"Andron?"

The young haggard man smiled as he approached. "It's good to see you again, Sir Searon."

The two embraced in a half hug before sitting on the log by the fire. Andron removed his scabbard as he sat. His eyes moved to Anaela and paused for a long moment.

"I see you've found Anaela."

"Yes," Searon responded.

"How is she?"

"Not well. Sh'on can only do so much. Aliqua is searching for herbs to help."

"I'm sorry, Searon."