The Eternal Blade Saga Book 2, Chapter 13: Truth in the Dark

I hobbled my way across Cragstead to the tavern, sat down at one of the tables in the back, and settled into a chair with a sigh. After Alena’s little experiment, she made sure to cast a well of energy around me to help my body restore itself. The magic may have healed my wounds shut, but it didn’t take away the pain. When I was able to pass for walking, and after swearing her to secrecy, Alena and I parted ways. She went off to mull over the results while I made my way to the tavern. I hadn’t ever been one to drink much, but after tonight’s activities, an ale sounded downright delightful.

The bartender must have felt bad for me in my current state, because right after I sat, he came over with a full mug of ale and set it down in front of me. I offered a thankful nod and a couple silvers I had in my pocket, and he went back to the bar area to check his kegs, leaving me alone to sit in peace. It had started to snow again, so I sat back in the wooden chair and stewed in my thoughts while I watched the flakes fall gently to the ground.

“Rough night?” Quint asked as he made his way toward me past the lit braziers and weaved between tables and chairs. Michi, his drake, was at his side. Her long tail swished back and forth, knocking into some of the chairs. Quint offered an apologetic wave to the barkeep as he straightened them.

“What gave you that impression,” I asked before taking a pull from my ale mug. It was smoother than I anticipated, and it warmed my throat and belly.

He sat down and gestured to all of me. “What happened?”

“Took a little walk,” I decided to say, leaving out the detail about with whom and why. I wasn’t really sure I wanted to divulge that private detail, even though he had been our Adviser. Alena was a different story. She understood what it was to be blessed by Grenth and she was able to help. It was necessary that she knew. I worried that if word got out about my fears and inadequacies, it wouldn’t be great for my image. “I tripped and fell.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” he replied. His tone led me to believe that he didn’t quite buy my story, but he didn’t raise the issue. Instead, Quint waved to the bartender and motioned to my ale mug while Michi settled herself under the table until she was curled up into a mound of scales.

“What brings you out here tonight,” I asked, stretching out my wounded leg. The muscles were tight and sore, but stretching them felt good.

“Just out for an evening stroll to clear the mind,” he said, but then something changed in his tone and overall demeanor. He narrowed his eyes slightly and clasped his hands together in his lap. “How are you doing?”

“What?” His question caught me a little off guard, but surprisingly I found there was a flood of things I wanted to say. I guess that was a side effect of starting to let the truth free. Now everything wanted to come out.

“It’s my job to check in on you and see how you’re doing,” he said as he leaned in closer. “How are you?”

“It’s not your job anymore. You don’t have to do that.”

He shrugged and sat back in his chair with an amused smile as the barkeep set a mug of ale in front of him. Reaching into his pocket, Quint produced a few silver coins to pay for his drink. “That may be, technically,” he began after the barkeep had gone back to his chores, “but I still care and want to know.”

Not thrilled to be poked and prodded at a second time for the evening, I took a pull from my mug and set it down hard enough that the liquid inside nearly sloshed over the rim. “Fine, you want to know how I’m doing,” I said, a little bite in my tone. “I don’t know – I don’t know how I’m doing. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“What do you mean,” he asked me. He leaned forward, an arm resting on the table.

“I mean exactly that. I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t think I ever knew what I was doing. I was never meant to lead,” I confessed.

Quint cocked his head to the side as he studied me. “Then why did you?”

“Rhys and Fendall were supposed to take the brunt of leadership,” I explained. “I stayed in the background, at least until they left.”

“And why did you stick with it?”

I shrugged. “I had to, you know? What was I supposed to do? Most of them didn’t have a place to go. I couldn’t just abandon them.”

A smile pulled at Quint’s lips as his features softened, but he didn’t say anything.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You could have just let them go, disbanded the guild, but you didn’t,” he pointed out. “You kept with it, even though you didn’t have to.”

“So?” I took another pull from my ale mug.

“So,” Quint began as he leaned back in his chair. “Maybe you’re more cut out for leading than you thought.”

I flashed him an exasperated look. “You’re not technically my Adviser anymore so you don’t need to butter me up.”

He chuckled.

“Still,” I began, “If you were technically my Adviser right now, what would you say?”

He stroked the stubble on his chin. “What about, specifically? Leading?”

“All of it. Everything.”

We shared a chuckle.

“I’m-I just feel lost,” I began, my tone growing more solemn. “For years, I was alone, watching over the blade, but then I met Rhys and Fendall and then all the you.” I sighed. “I don’t want to do this alone anymore. And now that I know what I want to do, I know I need their help. I want their help.”

“I get the sense that you’re trying to make something again, otherwise you wouldn’t be all the way out here. You’re trying to make those connections again,” Quint said with a warm smile. “I think you’re on the right path.”

“I hope so,” I said, looking off into space again as my thoughts began wandering down darker avenues.

“Is there something else?”

Bowing my head, I sighed heavily and crossed my arms over my chest. I was at war with myself with a piece of information I desperately needed to get off my chest. I clenched my jaw, maybe in some way to prevent the words from coming out.

“I haven’t said anything to anyone yet and I’d appreciate it stays that way,” I finally said.

Quint nodded, his smile faded.

“I was informed that the Order has given the Reaper my name and I’m worried my days are numbered. They know about the blade, I’m sure of it now, otherwise, why bother coming after me. They probably think I’m a threat.” I wrung my hands together. They were cold and clammy.

His eyes wide, Quint stroked his stubbled chin. “Are you sure? I thought the Reaper was a myth.”

“The Reaper isn’t a myth, I can assure you,” I said, shaking my head. “And I trust my source. But if the Reaper comes after me, I’m worried the others might get caught in the crossfire.”

“I see,” he said. “Bear with me here, but what if you gave the Order the blade? For safe keeping.”

“What,” I blurted out. “I’m not going to hand a dangerous weapon over to the Order. I can’t trust them with it.”

“What about the Priory,” Quint offered. “They have the largest secured warehouse in Tyria. Surely, they would be a viable option.”

I stared at him incredulously. “No, absolutely not. Why would you even suggest such a thing?”

“I simply want to help you find a safe way out of this situation,” he said as he leaned across the table. “If you give it to one of the Orders for safe keeping, maybe this Reaper will get called off.”

I shook my head. “No, I can’t trust anyone else to keep it safe, that’s why it has to be destroyed.”

Quint frowned. “I understand, however as your Adviser-.”

“Unofficially,” I interrupted.

“Unofficially,” he echoed, “I advise getting rid of it as soon as possible. By any means necessary.”

“That’s exactly what I’m trying to do.”

“Good evening,” a melodic voice announced. I looked up and found the highborn woman from the steading strolling across the open tavern toward us. She wore a dark amethyst dress under a long, fur-lined black cloak. Her golden hair was piled up high on her head like before, secured with a golden comb. As she neared, I could see little amethyst gems adorning the edge, and they glinted in the light of the braziers in the open tavern.

“Good evening,” Quint replied as he stood politely and offered a hand to the lady. I heard a stirring from under the table, but Michi remained where she was.

I figured it would be in bad taste to remain sitting, despite my physical condition, so I made the effort to get to my feet as best I could. Rhys had made it clear it was proper to rise from your seat when someone of a high status entered the room. Despite the aches and pains, I managed to offer a little bow before taking my seat.

“I wanted to apologize for my husband’s behavior,” she began as Quint offered her a chair. She thanked him with a smile and sat. It was the most fluid action I had ever seen when someone sat down. It was as if it had been practiced and perfected over the years, until it became one seamless motion. “It was a long journey and his patience is not always steadfast.”

Quint sat back down in his chair, his hands clasped and resting on the table. “Thank you, Lady–,”

“Oh,” the lady chuckled, her cheeks reddening, “where are my manners. I’m Lady Eira Byrne and my husband is Lord Aedan Byrne. And you are?”

“Quint Blackwell,” he replied.

Lady Eira turned toward me. Despite her sweet smile, her piercing blue eyes felt like they were boring two holes into my skull. “And you are?”

I swallowed hard while keeping a stoic expression. “Nienna Valar.”

“Lady Valar,” Quint corrected, and I shot him a disapproving glance. “She’s very modest about her standing. In fact, she prefers to be called commander, so to compromise, we call her Lady commander.”

Lady Eira found this amusing and she flashed us a wide grin. “Lady commander? How charming.”

Forgetting my etiquette, I slunk down into my chair, trying to minimize my appearance in hopes that the Lady’s attention would turn to Quint. It seemed to work. Quint asked her where she and her husband were from and her attention immediately went back to him. I sat quietly, listening to the trivial conversation the two were having, while taking in details, both physical and verbal, and content to be out from under a watchful eye.