Argrave hadn’t spoken to Galamon much at all since Garm was lost to them. Argrave couldn’t deny he was upset Galamon had gone behind his back so blatantly. They sat cross-legged amidst the sand dunes, the night sky above. The chill of winter had set in; they were well into the heart of the cold season. There was an awkward air between the two of them. It reminded Argrave of a dispute with his brother or father—they’d just avoid each other, saying only words that needed to be said…

“You look better,” said Galamon.

…until they started talking again, like nothing had happened at all. Maybe it was unproductive.

“I feel better,” returned Argrave.

But even if it was unproductive, Argrave liked things this way.

“That’s good,” nodded Galamon, white eyes focused on his armor. It was already well-maintained, but he kept it impeccably so.

Argrave stared as his hands moved, rubbing sand and oil against his armor for reasons Argrave couldn’t begin to guess. He looked around. Anneliese was taking care of something, while Durran read Garm’s writing, even now—the tribal seemed to be enchanted with it. Though Garm had left some writings related to the soul behind, Argrave still felt hesitant to read them for some reason.

His mind wandered, and he wondered what it was like to wear armor all day. Brows furrowed, he turned to Galamon.

“You think I should learn how to fight?”

Galamon paused, then turned his head towards Argrave slowly.

“…put Durran down easily enough,” he noted with the faintest smile, then focused back on his work.

Argrave laughed a little, feeling some strange mix of pride and shame. “I bet he could take me down twice as quick if the aggressor and defender switched places. But seriously… It’d be good to be versatile. If things go south…”

Galamon polished, but Argrave could tell he was thinking of an answer.

“The southron elves put it well. Magic has no ceiling.” He looked at Argrave. “Focus on it, you’ll keep getting better.”

“But things happen,” Argrave held his arms out, then uncrossed his legs. “Good to learn a trick or two, no?”

Galamon took a deep breath. “For you…” his white eyes scanned Argrave. “Your frame got bigger. I used to be your size… long time ago. I could give you advice for some things.” He shook his head. “Even still, I’d focus on learning to be agile. Magic will always be more powerful than a blade. Just dodge, get distance, obliterate them.”

“Let’s hear this advice, then,” Argrave suggested eagerly.

“Eat more,” Galamon said plainly. “You eat like a bird.”

Argrave hadn’t been expecting that. He’d been shoveling food into his mouth for the past month to the point of vomiting, and the idea of eating more now wasn’t particularly pleasant.

“Like a bird?” Argrave repeated, drawing lines in the sand. “Must’ve never seen a pelican.”

Galamon said nothing in response.

In truth, Argrave didn’t fancy the idea of learning how to fight. The few hard knocks he’d taken hadn’t been pleasant. He still shuddered when he remembered getting his cheek caved in by Induen, or the battle with Quarrus. Getting up close and personal offered the potential of a lot more of that.

a book for hours and have a blast, but exercise was different. Whether before or now, he never cared for weightlifting or running. He didn’t

eye—Anneliese returned. He smiled and waved, and she waved back, walking towards them. His thoughts returned back

myself up

then spotted Anneliese as well. The big elven warrior

rummaged through her backpack for something.

even know it,” Galamon shook his head. “A

at Galamon,

you two stay happy,”

embarrassed. “You and me both,” he finally said.

asked, genuinely

‘you stick with your own

man had a scary, grating laugh that would be right at home in a horror movie. Eventually, he settled down, scratching his cheek. “Long time ago, you’d have me completely

changed? Living in exile?” questioned

shook his head. “When war consumes the land, rapists, butchers, sadists—they all come out of the woodworks like rats fleeing

on. “I came here. I realized… things are just the same. You have good people… and terrible people,” he finished. Galamon stared at Argrave for a long while, white pupils steady. “That’s part of the reason I let Garm do what he did. I

the sore subject was

of you are good,” Galamon concluded. “Not to mention…

Anneliese walked up, a book in her hand. Argrave’s Brumesingers jumped free from his clothing, surging before her feet. She stood before

grows late,” she greeted. “We ought to retire. An early morning awaits, especially if we intend to reach Otraccia by

“You’re right, little lady.” He stood up and stretched, and his druidic bonds returned to

#####

at the city of Sethia. Perhaps that was not accurate—he stared above Sethia, at the clouds

tribal warrior turned his head to Argrave

he shook his head. “Never seen clouds over Sethia

believe that clouds couldn’t be blown over Sethia. Presumably, the Vessels’ presence in the city had something to do with that—the air around them always felt dry, after all. The clouds could be

notice, though, was that Aurum, the tower of gold, had been completely taken down. The other two remained standing, but construction around

pulled Durran along. “Crazy

regathered. He followed Argrave, and the two of them joined up with Anneliese and Galamon. They passed through a narrow bit of mountain, and beyond, the place opened up into the small town

than before. All in all, the place didn’t seem as gloomy as before. Argrave looked around. The southron elves noticed them, and though caution was

Much of her jet-black skin was concealed by

the reason my father can’t walk anymore,”

was taken aback by that reaction, but he realized his eyes—Garm’s eyes—must have surprised her.

before Argrave could. “Set a hostile tone right off. Very prudent. It’s like you’re eager to

eyes widened again—evidently, she’d not expected to see

out. He shook it. “Why are you…?

can’t wait to put my head on it. I’ll pass. A friend of mine told me

finished. “The best blacksmith for the

hesitated, she did eventually hold out her hand to Argrave. He shook

what we really think to people we trust.” She shook her head. “My father said good things about you. All of you. He’s been saying a lot, lately, considering he’s chair-bound. Wants me to forge

understandingly. “If it’ll

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