He didn’t seem bothered by her accusations as they continued to walk down the unpaved path southward and farther from the city, Cyridell. Its lights were a small glow in the distant dark night. Ange didn’t have the slightest idea why she was still following him.
“I should just turn around and walk in the other direction,” she commented vehemently.
“Have patience,” Showl encourage undaunted by her threat. “Like I said earlier, you’re conspicuous. Do you really want to walk into Cyridell wearing that?”
Ange scowled, feeling rage build up in her chest for his offensive words. But she knew he had a point, no matter how proud she felt wearing armor from the Black Owls she would be spotted immediately in the daylight, but who ever said she was planning on doing her investigation during the day?
“Your point is invalid,” she countered. “Black is perfect for going about my business in the middle of the night.”
“So long as I am with you, there’ll be no skulking about,” he corrected. “You have no need of it while I am around.”
Ange felt her brows meet in annoyance. “You’re becoming a pain,” she observed crankily. “You’re like a deadweight, it would be faster if I were on my own. Plus, you’re becoming bossy.”
“You already know I’m not leaving your side,” he reminded with a humorous smile.
Ange sighed loudly in exasperation. “I’m tempted to test the truth in that comment of yours.”
“I suggest you don’t,” he advised amused with a touch of seriousness in his voice.
“I’m being serious,” Ange insisted. “You better not get in my way, I’m going to Cyridell and I am going to find out if our hideout was really destroyed and see if anyone survived. After that, I’m going on a hunt,” she snarled, imagining her prey.
“And just what are you hunting?” Showl asked calmly.
“An old friend,” she hissed glaring at the city. “Maybe then I’ll reconsider becoming an assassin.”
She gasped in surprise as she bumped into soft cloth which she could feel something hard was underneath it. She stumbled back and gazed up bemused as Showl towered in front of her, glaring angrily.
“Assassin? All the more reason to keep you away from that accursed city,” he said sharply.
Ange snorted and walked around him. “Look, it’s none of your business,” she stated tautly as she kept walking down the road.
She was pulled into a halt as a powerful grip fell on her shoulder. “It is absolutely my business,” Showl corrected. “I am-”
“Yeah, yeah. You’re my dragon, yatta, so on and so forth,” she cut in with a huff trying to shrug off his hand but failed to even loosen his strong hold.
“That’s not what I was going to say,” he replied seething.
Ange blinked surprised and turned to gaze up at his stern yellow eyes. She met his gaze boldly, waiting for him to speak.
He sighed, his tense demeanor calming as he let her go. His eyes were suddenly deeper as he gazed down at her. “I am your partner, I am a friend, and I only want what’s best for you. No matter how difficult you want to be or if you think otherwise of me. I only want to protect you.”
Ange blinked surprised and took a step back, speechless. She frowned and looked away, realizing she was being unfair to Showl, her chest hurt as a cynical resentment took her voice. “My last partner and best friend betrayed me. So forgive me if I don’t quite believe you.”
“Angeline, I already told you, I would never-”
“Betray me? Hurt me?” she broke in. “You already lied to me. You said we would go straight to Cyridell! And where are we? Miles away from where you promised! And don’t start that crap about ‘a dragon could never bear the thought of hurting their Soulbound,’ because you already contradicted that statement twice! First with the Adherent of whatever and then the story of Fenera. You proved dragons are no better than the average human.”
Showl was rendered speechless, he gazed at her shocked for a moment before letting out an audible sigh, his shoulders seemed to slump as the rest of his posture. “I suppose in a sense, we have inherited some of the innate evil humans are prone to… But I can promise you I am not inclined to those qualities. I made a vow long ago that I would strive for the betterment in the relationship between our species and that I would always protect the one that holds the other half of my soul,” his statement ended in a quiet tone, his eyes glowed as he met Ange’s gaze fully.
Ange swallowed involuntarily, she reluctantly admitted that his eyes had an effect on her, for now, it was for the worst. She had never seen eyes more dangerous than his, no one had ever made her quell under their gaze, not even Vera when she was angry. She turned away, unsure what to think of his words. Inside her mind, she was still reluctant to trust him. In her heart, she felt only raw pain.
“I suppose only time will prove that,” she allowed reluctantly.
“I can accept that,” he agreed with relief in his voice.
They continued their walk in silence down the dark road, Ange wished she knew what time it was. It was dark but she knew the night was still young, it was the longest part of the day where they lived. She absently wondered how far they were going and where to. She didn’t feel physically tired, but she was starting to feel anxious and weary despite how long she had rested in Showl’s cave, which had only been a little over a half a day.
They walked in silence as the night came to its peak, Ange noticed a small outpost in the distance that hugged the road. She could see a few houses lit by sol crystal lanterns. It was a small place, perhaps a small resting place for travelers.
“Is that where we’re going?” she asked curiously.
“Yes,” Showl answered quietly. “I know a blacksmith there that can craft you some armor.”
“There is nothing wrong with my armor,” Ange snapped, tired of hearing him criticizing her most beloved equipment.
Showl sighed. “I know you’re proud of it Angeline, but be rational,” he implored. “If we come across any of the Adherent, you will need armor that can protect you from magic. Unless your armor is already enchanted, made from the finest materials, and resistant to the elements, you will need this armor.”
Ange groaned in defeat. “Can’t you just improve this armor instead?”
“I can ask, but I must insist on getting you official armor anyways,” he smiled amused. “We’ll match, and you’ll have authentic Dragonbound Armor, even if we are not bound.”
Ange couldn’t help but smile a little excitedly, ignoring his last implication. “You mean like the magical uniforms the Sky Warriors wore?”
“The exact kind,” Showl agreed as they came closer to the outpost.
Ange scowled, a thought coming across her. “Wait a second. How does a blacksmith exist in this small place with the ability to make Dragonbound Armor?”
Showl smiled pleased for a moment, before his expression darkened. “It’s a secret in fact. His family are descendants of the first Dragonbound that was bound to the Rex of Metals who developed the skill to make unparalleled armor and weapons. His family has passed down the skills for generations and they have served the Sky Warriors in secret since the Great Demise. Hopefully they haven’t moved since the Adherent are always searching for anyone that still have ties to the dragons.”
“Why?” Ange asked apprehensively.
Showl grimaced blackly. “So they can destroy them if not use them for their own purposes.”
Ange swallowed, she thought about the shadowy and sinister figures Showl had set before her. She had never felt intimated before, she hated the feeling that made her feel weak and inadequate. In her world there had never been anything dangerous enough to frighten her. Now she was starting to feel the first clouds of change in her life and that she was no longer in her world anymore, despite the little evidence she had seen thus far to prove she had left it behind.
An ominous crying began to fill the wind around her.
“Pull your hood up.”
A tavern with an inn was near the entrance, an unsurprising piece of the small place. A grocer stood next to it, and in between the two buildings was a stable composed of wood and stone that seemed to expand to the back. To her left stood a tall tower and small citadel which seemed almost empty, but as Ange looked closer she could see the soldiers marching about on patrol. She pulled her hood tighter around her face as they passed it. Ahead back to her right was many small building that looked like homes or stores. She quickly picked up on the one that had an anvil on the sign overhanging the door. The town was primitive compared to Cyridell. No building tempted to reach the sky.
No lights could be seen seeping from the windows of the homes. They quickly walked up the small amount of steps to the small porch, Ange looked suspiciously around as Showl quietly knocked the door. Ange came up close behind him and glanced back once more, her hearing strained to the medium house. She could detect shuffling from within and inaudible talking that didn’t sound all too pleased.
The door creaked open slightly as warm light poured out.
“We’re closed. What do you want?” came a groggy and gruff voice.
Ange peered around Showl and noticed the door was only an inch open, the man didn’t even bother looking to see who it was.
“Forgive me for the late night visit, Gregor. I would not be bothering you so late if it wasn’t urgent.” Showl replied politely and apolitically, his words seemed to hum with power just like the time he saved her from the vendor in the market, it made her shiver.
The door suddenly flew open. Standing in the doorway was a man probably in his late forties, a black beard with gray hairs and mustache fuzzed his face, his brown eyes gazed up at Showl in shock. His wide and powerfully built arms shook slightly. He was shorter than Showl but still taller than Ange, his belly was rounded out despite his obvious upper body strength.
“Sir! Forgive my appearance..,” he shuffled his nightgown with his large hands nervously. “If I had known you were coming…”
Showl smiled in a friendly manner. “Fret not Gregor, the visit was as unexpected for me.” Showl assured.
“Come in,” Gregor insisted stepping aside and beaconing to his home.
Showl nodded thankfully. “Thank you, Gregor.”
He stepped in quickly, followed by Ange, she noticed the man eye her in surprise.
Ange ignored his inquiring gaze and stuck close to Showl feelingly oddly anxious, she gazed about the small living room with interest, she and never been in the home of a blacksmith. In fact, she had never been in anyone’s home, the orphanage was a blur in her memories. It felt like she had been in the sewers all her life.
She could not pick up any details in the dark home.
“What brings you here so late, sir?” Gregor asked politely though curiosity rang through his voice and to Ange’s surprise, she detected fear as well.
Before Showl could speak, a woman came from the dark corridor, dressed in her own long and simple nightgown. “Who is it dear?” she asked tiredly and a bit suspiciously.
“An old acquaintance, dear. Nothing to worry about, just go back to bed,” Gregor assured gently in his husky voice.
Ange noticed how he emphasized ‘old acquaintance’ and she didn’t miss the look of fear that crossed the woman’s face as she glanced at Showl before she quickly turned away and disappeared.
Showl frowned slightly as he too watched the woman leave before turning his eyes back to Gregor who twitched under his gaze.
“Is something the matter, old friend?” Showl asked concerned.
“Nothing, nothing,” Gregor insisted, brushing Showl’s concern away and apparently trying to visibly relax. “Is there something I can do for you? It’s been…oh, twenty years since I last saw you, correct? You haven’t changed one bit,” he observed unsurprised, obviously trying to change the subject.
Showl remained silent, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully, he seemed unhappy before he spoke again. “I’ve come to commission armor from you, Gregor. I hope that is not too much trouble, I will pay you of course.”
“It’s been years since I applied that kind of craft,” he replied a bit excitedly, it almost sounded forced. “I’ll gladly make a fine suit. For who is it? You know I will need measurements,” he said carefully.
Showl stretched out his hand to Ange. “For her.”
Gregor blinked surprised as he gazed at Ange. “For a child?” he asked surprised.
“Child?” Ange snarled immediately enraged.
He stepped back, surprised by the venom in her voice.
“She’s no child, Gregor,” Showl explained calmly. “She may be young, but I will ask that you enchant the armor with growth, just in case.”
Ange shot a vehement glare at Showl.
“Of course, sir. When will you need this?”
“Immediately,” Showl replied without hesitation.
The man frowned troubled. “Is this request urgent?” he asked.
“It is,” Showl stated simply.
Gregor grunted. “Very well, sir. I will start immediately. What kind of enchantments will you desire?”
“The standard,” Showl replied, he added more carefully. “Everything that would be required for the armor of a Dragonbound.”
The man blinked surprise, switching his gaze to Ange who scowled uncomfortably and looked away.
“I see,” the man whispered. “I trust you brought the required materials then?” he asked turning his gaze back to Showl.
“I did,” Showl asserted. He removed his pack and opened it before he pulled out beautiful white plates from the bag, as Ange looked closer she realized they were scales. Large, white, perfectly smooth scales larger than Showl’s hand, probably even larger than a dinner plate.
“Are those yours?” Ange asked surprised, moving closer as she observed the beautiful plates that according to legend covered any dragon’s body. She had to suppress the urge to reach out and touch them.
“They are,” Showl replied quietly as he handed two stacks of a dozen to the man.
“Any specifications apart from the design?” Gregor asked as he brushed the scales with his fingers and inspected them carefully with an obviously well trained eye.
“Make it light,” Showl instructed. “Well plated in vital areas but flexible and easy to breathe,” he glanced at Ange with a brow arched. “Anything to request?” he asked.
Ange blinked surprised, she hadn’t expected her opinion to be involved. “As flexible as it can be would be nice, and of course light enough that it won’t hinder me…” she remained quiet and thoughtful for a moment before her eyes lit up with an idea. “This is full body, right?”
The man nodded. “Boots, gauntlets, chest plate, leg plates. Depends on your kind of battled style really.”
“Well I am fast and nimble, dodging and evading and striking quickly is my style, I use two long daggers and I depend highly on stealth.”
“Quiet and fast, understood,” Gregor replied seriously. “Not a common battle style among the dragons,” he observed.
“Really?” Ange asked surprised.
He nodded. “They usually fall under a more brute and direct form of combat, and they usually wear heavy armor, more comfortable to them apparently. When I made…” he looked at Showl unsure, “his, he chose a more medium form of armor, an uncommon kind of armor, but not rare.”
“You made Showl’s armor?” Ange asked surprised and awed. “It’s beautiful,” she praised.
The man smiled sheepishly, his eyes surprised. “One of the best I’ve made,” he agreed. He looked at Showl with a smile. “It’s good to hear that you have a name now, sir.”
Showl nodded, his face emotionless. Ange glanced at him, wondering
what was wrong.
“Can my gauntlets have barbs underneath the fingers? Not a lot, just for grappling, you know? And can the heels under the boots have hidden daggers that shoot out to the front?” she taped one of her heels in demonstration, one of the daggers snapped out with a twang, the metal was already scratched to her dismay. It seemed scaling that wall had taken a heavy toll on them.
Gregor nodded as he bent down and looked at the boot. “Yes, I see…hmm. That can be useful,” he stood up thoughtfully. “I’ll add knives to the top of the wrists that extend out as well, just encase you get disarmed?” he suggested.
Ange smiled exuberantly. “That sounds perfect,” she agreed.
He nodded. “I’ll get started at dawn, once the forge has been heated up,” he addressed Showl, his hands suddenly began to glow with a faint blue aura as the scales floated away from his grasp and began rotating around him, shimmering faintly and lighting up the dark areas of the house around them.
Ange gasped in awe. “You can use magic?”
Gregor gave her a gruff smile. “You can’t forge Dragon Armor without magic, the skill is required to mold the scales to a specific shape,” he replied as the scales floated away to a dark door, glimmering faintly.
“I thought there was no magic left in the world,” Ange commented amazed.
“You’d be surprised. Magic has not disappeared entirely from the world. But you are right, very few humans are born with the aptitude today. A sad result from the disappearance of dragonkind and the Souls Binding Contract, since then not many humans have been born with the gift of magic that weren’t Dragonbounds.”
“So the bonding of the two races resulted in less regular humans being born with magic?” Ange asked surprised.
“It was an unexpected side effect of the spell that affected the entire human race,” Showl answered as Gregor walked away into a dark room and revealed a bright sol lantern.
“And the-”
“Dragons?” Showl interrupted amused, quickly catching her question before it was finished. “Our race resulted in less dragons being conceived, successful pregnancies among the dragons became difficult even with magic. Clutches of eggs were often born…dead, if not empty.”
Sky Warriors: Poleuthan's Thief (Sky Warriors Saga Book 1) Page 12
