Heir of Cinders [FADING EMBERS #1] - ON HOLD

16.2 - The Great Forge

A delectable buttery aroma hailed Mira the instant she stepped into the store, inviting her to inhale deeply to savor the scent. Her next impulse was then to scour the interior of the place, searching for the source of such a delightful fragrance. Her efforts were finally rewarded when she spotted the Golden Eyes, blooming jovially upon the windowsills under the light of a crystal lamp that gently bathed the room with a blue-tinged glow.

Again, the half-aerhyan questioned what was real and what was merely a trick of the eye. It seemed like in Vielarsburgh, she could never really tell. The shabby exterior of the store in the slums reflected none of the decent — even slightly charming — interior of the store. Despite labeling itself a general store, Mira found no semblance of fruits or vegetables. Instead, a series of shining weapons hung from organized racks, from swords, to axes, to spears. Mira even spotted a silver halberd leaning hazardously against the wall, appearing as if it might slip at some point or another and accidentally chop an unfortunate person's head off.

The thought forced an amused smirk upon her face. "Peculiar display of a general store, this," she mused. "Hyrreans must have a quite different understanding of what 'general stores' are."

Feal approached a rack of swords varying in length, his clawed finger lying upon the flat of a rapier's blade. He swiped his finger against the metal, his talon creating an unpleasant screech upon steel that made Mira's scales tingle. Her neck crumpled downwards between her shoulders, eyes momentarily snapping shut. The yildean wrinkled his nose at the layer of dust that gathered atop his skin, brushing them off against his black cloak in disdain.

Dragging her attention back towards the silver halberd, she squinted in quick, silent analysis, almost spontaneously concluding that the weapon had been in retirement for quite some time. Its blade was covered in dust and cobwebs, but its edge was dulled by the wear of war. A picture of a barren battlefield was painted upon the blank slate in her mind, the phantom of her imagination standing in the middle of the chaos. She imagined this halberd, in its prime, viciously ripping through armor and flesh, through iron and gullets. Her index finger trailed across the carvings on its hilt, pulling away with it the cobwebs and dust. She recognized the faint pattern etched on it: the three-headed Devil.

Unoriginal, she thought.

"I'd be more careful if I were you. The blade's dull, but I reckon that it'll still cut quite deep."

Her heart stilled in that fraction of a second, before beginning to thunder against her chest like a stampede of galloping horses. That voice was a memory, a ghost in her past, so familiar in the back of her head yet a stranger to her ears. Once upon a time, she'd shared banter and laughter with that voice. All that seemed like an eternity ago. Mira had never for a second thought that she would hear it again, letting the precious memories sit in the darkest corners of her mind like an old painting gathering dust.

By Aerhytus, it can't be...

With trepidation, she turned around — unsure, unable, and unwilling to believe. In a land of illusions, Mira was no longer able to discern if the senile aerhyan that stood before her was real or a mere hallucination. Her chest flared with sudden, tight pain as she sucked in a deep breath, the bridge of her nose pinched by invisible fingers. Her eyes fell upon the distinct wyvern brand twisted around his neck.

With a gleam in his eyes, the aerhyan spread his arms in invitation. "What's this? Cat got your tongue, Mira? Not a word for your old mentor?"

Mira's lips quivered, stretching into a lopsided smile that hurt her cheeks. Unable to decide whether to hug or throttle this man to check if he was real, she opted to do both, tackling him in a tight embrace that had her strong arms around his windpipe in almost a chokehold. The old aerhyan staggered backward by the sudden force, his hands flying towards Mira's arms to pry her away from his neck. Mira buried her face into his shoulder, pressing her eyes against his sleeves to stave the tears that had begun to leak out of them.