Deirdric was galvanized by Alden's shout, his shocked and distant eyes suddenly snapping into focus. The Smith's gaze flickered over to the approaching Orin, his panic on display for the world to see as he clamped his hand down onto his Knight's shoulder with enough force to make Alden wince. Deirdric may be more suited to the great library in the D'viritazi estate, but his natural size granted him no small measure of raw physical strength. Not that the young scholar would ever think to use it.

It had been one of the greatest contrasts between the two Bonded. Alden was a warrior, one who had been forged in the Ragoran military. He had cut his teeth against the giant raiders from Wellind, the island east of Ragora, for years before being snapped up by Mastan D'viritazi. He knew the value of strength, knew the value of being a warrior, of standing up to those who wished to bring harm to you and the people of your country. Deirdric had always believed the opposite, that violence was never the answer. He constantly postulated that two men could get more done in an hour than an army could in years of conquest. He wasn't wrong, but neither was he entirely right. His passive nature was one which had caused frustration to rise in his Knight time and time again. The worst of it was that his stance hadn't changed even after attending the Hall. Alden had expected them to at least get some form of practical experience in battle during their time there. His wish had been to make his Smith see the light, to know that diplomacy wasn't always the solution, but his hopes were dashed. They had sparred with their peers and had won their fair share of mock battles, but Deirdric didn't know what it was like to put his life on the line. The Hall placed a large emphasis on theory, not wishing to place its Knights and Smiths in danger prematurely. He understood why they took this approach. After all, the best and brightest of the continent attended the Hall, each usually coming from powerful political families. Being responsible for one of them being seriously injured, or even killed, wouldn't paint Tyra in the most favourable of lights. Still, Alden had a feeling that one day Deirdric's lack of experience would come back to haunt them.

It appeared that day had arrived.

As Etherin took his Smith's body, Alden kept his grim stare fixed on the young man who churned the earth and stone with his unfaltering sprint. Alden didn't panic, he had faced far worse odds before, though Vera's warning was still niggling at him. He had absolute faith in his own abilities. With a sword in hand he had few equals among those who served the House D'viritazi and his knowledge of military tactics was just as valuable. Both were reasons for his eventual assignment to Lady Tessaraina upon her birth, as well as his promotion to head of her personal guard. If it was just himself in this fight, he would give himself favourable odds to defeat Orin. The Knight of the Princess was young whereas Alden was in the prime of his life and battle-hardened through numerous military campaigns.

He wasn't the problem. In a battle between Knights, the Smiths were just important, if not more so. They were the source of a Knight's power, able to hinder or help depending on how in sync they were with their partner. Deirdric had proven himself to have a deft hand at Aurum control and Gift manipulation during their time at the Hall but with his abilities in a real battle untested, Alden couldn't help but feel the shadow of doubt crawl over his heart. He was reassured by the fact that Deirdric would be pitting himself against a young Princess who hadn't been through his vigorous training. Perhaps this was exactly what Deirdric needed: A brutal lesson with a lesser opponent.

Alden called to Strength, Speed and Thought. He felt Deirdric comply, the Gifts flooding his system as his reactions sped up. Orin slowed to the Ragoran's perception as he reached out a hand to call to his Weapon. Fire surged from his fingertips as he was answered by a resounding roar.

Hinokiba appeared from the flame. A long single-edged blade, glowing a blinding white and exuding an immense, tangible heat. The hilt was made of burnished bronze, the hand-guard of the same. The guard was styled in the form of a fanged demon, arms spread wide in open defiance, a terrifying snarl on peeled back lips.

Alden felt himself settle as soon as his hand closed on the familiar grip, banishing some of the worries that had begun to fester within him. Even among the Weapons of those they attended the Hall with, Hinokiba was special. As a medium for manipulating Elemental power it was considered to be a cut above the rest and was without equal among his class. Of course, he couldn't use any of his Techniques here, lest he cause damage to the surrounding area. His confidence and faith in Deirdric restored, Alden prepared to meet the furious young Knight.

If Orin was taken aback upon seeing the forming of Alden's Weapon, he didn't let it show on his face. His furious eye, the one that gleamed with a terrible brightness, remained fixed on the Ragoran as he raised a hand into the air. Alden responded with Hinokiba to block the incoming blow.

His body shook.

It was like getting struck by a battering ram. The ground underneath him exploded upwards as the cobbles shattered, his feet pushed an inch deep into the earth. A black blade had manifested in Orin's hand, a length of abyssal darkness that solidified at the point of impact. The rest of it appeared almost indistinct, with wisps of night that curled off of the blade. Shining stars ignited and dimmed deep within that endless black, instilling a strange fear in Alden's heart. The sword was without guard and the hilt was seemingly made of an incomprehensible metal that was more liquid than solid. For the briefest of moments, Alden thought he caught sight of a small woman swimming through that ocean of silver before disappearing beneath the surface, leaving only a few ripples in her wake before the hilt grew still.

Sentience? Not possible, not for one so young. The warrior must have been seeing things.

Alden forced himself to focus, re-securing his grip on Hinokiba before his treacherous fingers could release their hold. There had been such Strength behind that opening blow it had almost made Alden drop his Weapon.

“Spirit, she must have used all of his Aurum!” Deirdric cried out from within Alden's inner soul.

Alden silently agreed with his Smith and called on his own Gift of Strength, which Deirdric sent cascading into his body, his skin and bones becoming steel. The Ragoran pushed back against the Knight, managing to free his sabre before jumping backwards, narrowly avoiding another swing of Orin's Weapon.

“The good news is I doubt he'll be able to do that again,” Deirdric continued.

Again, Alden agreed. It appeared that his doubts and Vera's words were unfounded. Orin and his Smith were definitely powerful, but an attack that used so much Aurum spoke to the Princess' inexperience with the handling of Gifts. Alden felt the certainty of victory grow within his chest. While he had no intention of hurting Lady Tessaraina's Knight, he would show Orin the difference between one who was newly Bonded and one who had graduated from the Hall of Tyra. He attacked, going on the offensive as he whipped his sabre down towards Orin's chest. The Knight was still following through on his initial swing, he had no way to reposition his sword before Alden struck. Hinokiba screamed through the air, flames igniting along the pearly white metal as it aimed to put Orin out of the fight.

He caught the burning blade.

Alden stopped, eyes widening with shock as his mouth dropped. The smell of burning flesh filled the air. Orin's fingers were charring, turning black, yet his grip around Hinokiba's white-hot form didn't waver. He stared at the Ragoran without expression. The pain was no doubt immense and yet he didn't even flinch, the fury behind his stare the only outward sign he felt anything at all. Alden pulled back on Hinokiba and found that it didn't move. He pulled harder, calling to Strength and yet it still did not budge.

“Fire is effective.” Orin raised his black sword behind his head, the darkness of the Weapon seeming to block out the sun that hung behind him. “But I've been burned before.”

“Resonance!” Deirdric shouted.

Alden cursed, banishing Hinokiba from his hand before re-summoning it out of Orin's grip. He lunged forward and deflected Orin's incoming blow, slipping into the forms he had been trained in since childhood as their blades clashed again and again. Orin's greater reach gave him an advantage, but Alden's smaller sabre and quick attack patterns was more than making up for it.

They stood toe to toe, each time their Weapons met a small shock-wave would erupt outwards, causing the fragmented ground to tremble beneath them. Alden had to admit that Orin was skilled, more so than he had initially believed. For one so young to be so well suited to the sword was extraordinary, his style of fighting almost being the polar opposite to Alden's own.

He had been trained in the classic duellist tradition of his family. Unsuited though it was to open warfare, his combative ability shone when in battle against a single opponent. It was graceful and quick, with subtle movements used to distract before finishing off a foe with the speed and deadliness of a viper's bite. Orin's was brutal and savage, aiming to break bone over cutting with his much larger sword. Alden could detect no unnecessary motion in each blow he delivered, the young man only ever moved as much as was needed. The results were devastating. Alden felt some ember burn in his chest that had long since been dormant. The last time he had properly fought against an enemy had been years ago, before Bonding with Deirdric.

Each strike that Alden deflected was filled with an incomprehensible Strength. Deirdric was right, Orin had a Resonant Gift and it showed no sign of slowing down. If anything, the young man was growing stronger, with each terrific attack greater than the last. Alden was being pushed back, slowly but surely. As Knights they were equal in terms of skill, but their Smiths were another matter entirely. Deirdric was worried and Alden could feel his panic as Orin continued to control the fight. He was wasting Aurum, using too much or too little.

Princess Elora and Deirdric were having a battle of their own and it was the Princess who was coming out the victor. Alden had the advantage in Speed, but in terms of Strength they were so outclassed it was almost laughable.

The Ragoran warrior was quickly realising that he was about to lose this fight, and his head, if he didn't do something, so he reached to his Element and felt the Flame respond.

His Soul shuddered as that burning presence focused its attention on him. It gifted him with fire and Alden called to his Armour, dismissing Hinokiba and allowing Orin to strike him on the shoulder. Flames burst from his skin and an instant later the warrior was garbed in bronze plate. His helm was a mirror image of the demon on his guard, snarling with an unending, ravenous hunger. He braced himself as Orin's black blade smashed into his heavy pauldron.

Smashed was definitely an apt description. The bronze shattered to pieces under the weight of the strike. Alden winced as pain lanced through his arm. He could only watch as Orin's sword cut deep into the flesh beneath and he lost all feeling in the limb. Luckily, he didn't need it for what came next. Summoning Hinokiba to his left hand, Alden sent a pulse of power running through its soul forged steel. The blade glimmered brighter than ever as Alden carefully guided the Elemental energy, shaping it as it went so he got the result he desired. He and Deirdric had created this particular Technique to answer the question of how to deal with multiple Knights at once. It had taken them some time to hone it, but the results spoke for themselves. They had placed highly in their overall class rankings as a result of its creation.

Alden pulled heat from the flame, leaving only the light as he felt it build up in his sabre. He gritted his teeth as Orin ripped his blade free, focusing on Alden's now shimmering sword. The pain wasn't helping his control, but he pushed through it nonetheless as old instincts rose up in him, ones that had long since dulled with the passage of time. Raising Hinokiba into the air with a furious bellow, Alden released his shaped Technique.

Elemental power poured from his Weapon and an intense flash of light emerged. Alden heard Orin growl in frustration and back away, his black sword waving in front of him to ward off any follow up attacks as his eyes was seared. The closer one was, the more profound the effect. Tessaraina and the Sister were far enough away that it wouldn't affect them much more than some temporary blindness. Orin, however, was at the centre. If he wasn't a Knight, his lose of sight would most likely be permanent.

Alden did not roar in defiance, nor did he shout a battle-cry. He merely attacked. He wasn't as good with his left as his right, which was already close to fully healed, but he didn't need to be at this range and with an opponent that was absent the ability to see.

Part of Alden felt bad for allowing things to go this far, but he just didn't see another way out without summoning the full power of the Flame. The young man had proven himself as a Knight, but Alden would not be put down so easily by some pup who had barely seen twenty years.

Hinokiba whistled as Alden aimed for Orin's leg. He would cut deep enough to maim and that would be the fight over. Orin fought well but it was time this brief battle came to an end.

He blocked it.

It wasn't accidental. Orin moved his Weapon into the path of Alden's. For a moment the Ragoran could only stare in shock. Then he attacked again and again. Each blow was thrown aside almost casually by the Knight of the Princess. Alden moved forward and unleashed a blistering set of strikes, each faster than the last and yet each of them was turned away. The flaming Knight jumped backwards, falling back into his guard as he summoned yet more Elemental power into Hinokiba. He may have to use his fire after all.

“Ah, that's how it works,” Orin said to himself musingly. His left eye was bleeding and a deep shade of red, though it was getting better by the moment as his Smith healed it. His right on the other hand remained exactly the same.

A pinprick of light, with an iris that shone with a hue of blue as deep as the sky. His sclera seemed to be an amalgamation of white, grey and black. Clouds, Alden thought, even as streaks of bright white lightning flickered over its entirety.

“Do you see?” Tessa's voice came from back at the orphanage steps, some distance away from where he and Orin had fought. Her face was bright with the first genuine smile Alden had seen on her since his arrival. She stared at the young Knight with intensity, seemingly reaching the same conclusion that he had himself.

“I do,” Orin grinned and aimed his blade at Alden, his Weapon of black and silver seeming to rage even as he held it in place. His sheer presence suddenly increased, the weight of it feeling like a noose tightening around Alden's neck. Darkness licked the ground at Orin's feet as the smell of freshly fallen rain filled the air around them. “I see everything.”

He blurred forwards, far faster than before. His body becoming indistinct as he moved, the only thing left to track him were the hazy after-images of his glowing eye.

“Alden!” Deirdric shouted in fear.

The Ragoran wanted to respond, to apologise to his Smith for failing him so badly. He was out of practice, true, and he hadn't used any of his most powerful Elemental attacks but that was no excuse. Now he might never get the chance to make up for those mistakes. He eased his bruised ego by reasoning that Orin was an Heir, though that left a bitterness in his mouth that was hard to ignore.

He raised Hinokiba futilely, knowing he didn't have time to unleash more fire. The end would come at the tip of the sword that belonged to the Knight of his Lady. Considering the part he had played in her coming to Myrin, he considered such a death poetic.

Alden was preparing for his demise, true, but he would be damned if he went out without a fight. What made everything all the more heart-wrenching was that his Lady didn't even look concerned to see him fall, she had eyes only for his young opponent. Orin arrived, his sword swift to follow.

It clanged against a sudden burst of cold. Both of their eyes widened at the sudden appearance of a frost covered glaive that filled Alden's vision. Orin's black blade rebounded off of the impenetrable ice and the Knight took an instinctive step back.

Lady Vera had taken the blow that was meant for him. Not only that, she had stopped Orin with only one hand on her glaive. Her grip didn't even look that secure and yet her face remained impassive as she stared sternly into Orin's eyes.

“That's enough, Lord.” Vera intoned. Despite her clear deference to Orin her body language showed she had no intention of moving. “It is unfortunate that the Sister was hurt, but it was an accident, nothing more.”

Orin said nothing, merely staring back at the woman with a renewed fury in his eyes. It made the look of anger that the young man had gifted Alden seem paltry in comparison. Even Orin's storm eye had darkened, the white and grey clouds of his sclera having all turned black.

He wanted to fight her. At least, that was what Alden surmised from the way his grip tightened around the hilt of his Weapon. Lady Vera noticed it as well and she frowned at the young man.

“Know your limits, Orin. A fight with me is no fight at all.” The First Knight of Venos drove her famous glaive, Illithin, into the ground at her feet. She used almost no force when doing so, but the stone and dirt churned under the heaviness of the action. In that one move she showed just how great her Strength was. Resonant or not, Orin's Gifts wouldn't hold up well against a Master of Vera's calibre.

Even with that clear example of how outclassed he was, Orin still looked like he wasn't going to back down. You could say what you wanted about the young man, but he didn't lack for courage, or foolishness. Just as the tension became insurmountable Orin whipped his head around to look at Tessa, who stared back at him with narrowed and focused eyes.

The Sister of the orphanage was back on her feet, one hand placed on Tessa's arm for support. Her expression was one of silent pleading and as soon as Orin caught sight of it, it was like the will to fight fled his body.

Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

“So be it,” Orin grumbled, walking towards the Sister and his Smith without so much as a backward glance.

Alden felt a huge breath leave his lungs, one he hadn't known he'd been holding in. The souls of Orin and Vera clashing against each other had an almost physical effect on his body.

“How can he be so strong?” Deirdric whispered into his mind. Alden was thankful that his Smith that calmed down slightly, though he sounded strangely humbled, “He hasn't even been to the Hall, yet he would've beaten us if Vera hadn't stepped in.”

“We didn't use our best attacks,” Alden replied as he allowed his body to heal, feeling the Aurum spread under his skin and attack the wound on his shoulder. Relief was quick to follow.

“Do you think we could've won if we did?” Deirdric asked doubtfully, using his Knight's eyes to follow Orin's back as he walked towards the orphanage.

“I don't know,” Alden answered honestly, though it was a truth he would much rather have avoided. He had trained for years to reach this level of power, been taught by the greatest Masters on the continent and yet the young man had pushed him to his limits without Armour or Element. Was the difference between an Heir and a normal Knight truly so profound?

“I'm just glad he's on our side.” Deirdric muttered as he continued to work on Alden's injuries.

The Ragoran warrior's eyes narrowed as he pushed himself to his feet with difficulty. “That remains to be seen.”

* * *

It didn't take the Sister and Tessa long to explain what had happened.

Apparently, the Smith of the Knight I just fought had gotten rather flustered at the thought of waiting for Elora and I to return from the market and had pushed for Tess to accompany him. In so doing he had accidentally knocked over my mother, causing her head to strike against the stairs of my childhood home.

My blood boiled at the thought of it, but I kept up a kind smile for the Sister's sake. Not that it was fooling anyone, especially the woman who raised me. Couldn't hide anything from Tess anymore either, seeing as the young woman was as much a part of me now as Elora was, though in very different ways.

I looked inward at that thought, examining the two threads of gold that shot outwards from the depths of my fiery soul. Elora's was much larger than Tessa's and far more wild. It writhed with barely contained energy, too thick and strong to ever be severed. Tessa's was quite the opposite. It felt stable, strong. No wild energy flaring off at random intervals and no weaving of the thread. It had a strange solidity to it, almost as if despite its small size it was just as immovable as Elora's.

The three of us had discussed a great deal over the past few days. Much of it had to do with the Thrones, which Tessa explained were the way in which multiple Smiths could work together for the benefit of their Knight, as well as more on our new Gift. The one that Tessa had very nearly killed herself trying to make.

The Gift of the Storm.

Even thinking the name sent a shiver down my spine, as though I could feel a fragment of the power contained within. It was my Gift of Speed under a different name and yet so much more than that. Tessa and I had tested it briefly since our First Bonding and it was truly thrilling moving at such intense speeds. Though I will admit that I slammed into more than one wall during my first few attempts. It was also Resonant and far more powerful than any base Gift we may come across. Still there were some limitations.

The first of which was pretty massive: Only Tess could use it. The mercenary had urged Elora to prove her point and when the Princess had tried to push Aurum into Storm it had evaporated, returning to the Forge. The same was true in the reverse, with Tess being unable to use Elora's Gift of Strength. It had to do with Resonance, she explained. Creating a Resonant Gift was an immensely difficult thing and the act itself involved the very soul of the Smith who Forged it. Their souls acted as keys to unlock Strength and Storm, so neither of them could touch the other's Resonant powers. The same rule applied to Weapons, with Tessa being unable to give me Rionna while we two were Bonded without Elora. I was thankful to learn that this didn't extend to Healing and Thought, which both girls could operate without issue, despite them being created by the Princess. It was an unexpected complication, but an understandable and manageable one. It wasn't much of issue for me.

My eye, on the other hand, was.

Tessa said that even she didn't know the extent of the powers it would one day wield. Gifts like the ones she created were unique to the Knight and Smith pair who had Forged them. There was nothing in Tessa's many manuals about powers that combined Speed and Sight into one package, though I have to admit I wasn't looking very hard. Sitting down and pouring over dusty tomes had never been my strong suit.

Elora was completely consumed in the reading, with Tessa joining her as the two of them discussed all things Smithing while I tried to get a handle on my eye. I was almost taken aback by how fervently the Princess attacked the new information Tess presented. Like me, Elora was starting from nothing in regard to Heirs and wanted Tess to teach her all that she knew about them, as well as their Smiths. I also heard her muttering to herself about 'keeping up' with Tessa, which I found incredibly endearing. My Smiths had already developed a sense of healthy competition, though considering our circumstances perhaps healthy wasn't the correct word.

I shared Elora and Tessa's need to grow stronger. I now had two Smiths who were throwing everything they had into making sure they were the best they could be. If I didn't do the same, then I wouldn't be worthy of them.

But the fucking eye wasn't exactly making it easy.

I was thankful, don't get me wrong. Tessa and I had sparred several times over the past few days with no clear winner emerging from our bouts. The return of my eye meant I was back in top condition, though the colour it painted everything did throw me off a little.

It also didn't last very long. I had an hour at most before I returned to my one eyed self, leaving me feeling like I'd just fought Craven: Exhausted beyond measure and completely drained of Aurum. The incredible thing about it was that the eye itself was tied to me. Even without a Smith I could activate it without issue and presumably I could also use any of the powers the thing had in the same way. That was Tess and Elora's theory anyway.

I examined the thread within me once again, looking to Tessa's Bond. A small line of light shot off of the golden thread and directly into my soul. This was the Sight aspect of Storm and what allowed me to use the eye without Tess being Bonded with me. It was like a shortcut, one which allowed me to call to the eye without actually having her in the inner soul. It had taken me nearly half a day to work out how to activate the thing and even then it only worked half the time, but I was used to practice and took to this new task with the same single-minded focus I used when learning swordsmanship. Repetition was the key and before long I was more adept at the summoning. It was kind of like calling to Rionna, though the eye felt a little more... distant, or removed maybe a better way to put it. Summoning my Weapon was easy as breathing, but the eye required effort. Thankfully, I didn't have to focus to maintain it.

Tessa and I spent some time together as we tried to figure out exactly what the eye could do. She maintained that I should be able to 'see' the air, or at least be able to sense it. She believed that it should give me the ability to pierce the veil, to see the unseen much like Smiths did when transitioning through Etherin. Some kind of pseudo spiritual sight. She believed that with the eye I wouldn't have to be reliant on my ability to perceive the physical. That was about how she explained it, though I removed much of the swearing, hers and mine.

I listened and tried with everything in me to understand, but I just couldn't get my head round it, nor did I see the point of such a power. I had seen souls before when Bonded with Elora, but I'd never been able to 'see' the air. What the fuck did that even mean? What does the air look like? My frustration with my own inadequacies was an annoyance that grated on my nerves, trapping me in a never ending cycle of self-deprecation. I felt like I was failing at the first hurdle.

Still, it was nice not to have to worry, not having to run and deal with the next problem. I had gotten past my angst on Bonding with Tess and while there were a million other things I needed to address, I was content to simply train with my Smiths and prepare for my wedding to the woman I loved for the time being. Elora had even managed to convince Tess to wear a dress apparently, though from the death stares my savage Smith had been throwing the Princess, I don't think she was too happy about it. Elora, Tessa and I were of one mind, all aimed towards a single purpose. The last few days had been some of the best in recent memory, first with the proposal, then the Bonding and now in simply existing with my two Smiths.

I should've known it wouldn't last.

Elora and I had only been going to see Laird to pick up the dress for the wedding. We were gone for less than an hour before I felt Tessa's anger pour over the Bond, hitting me in the soul like a kick to the teeth. I had grabbed Elora and made it back only to find a woman I hated with a stranger I didn't know. My mother on the ground, my Smith on guard. I lost myself to the rage that rose up within me, Elora matching my feeling with her own.

Then I felt it. The fire Knight did something to his Weapon, something I didn't quite understand. causing the air to burst with brightness and my eye to sear with pain. I couldn't see, lost in a darkness that was reminiscent of my brief one-sided battle with Zelato. Panic began to overtake me, but I fought against it with everything I had. Tessa's words filled my mind. She spoke to me not through my memory, but over the Bond. She urged me to look without looking, to see the unseen.

I opened my eye, not literally but mentally. It was like a whole new world exploded forth, one which was filled with shades of white, grey, black and the strangest hue of bright gold. I saw everything and it made my head spin. My field of view expanded to cover everything around me. The crimson flames of my opponent's soul became a beacon within my new Storm Sight.

I finally understood what Tessa meant about the air. I could feel the wind on my body in a way I never had before, its gentle sway soothing against the charred skin of my left hand and reddened portion of my face. I could also feel it brush up against everything else. Buildings, people, even the ground beneath my feet. All around me the wind moved, painting a picture of my surroundings in astounding detail. I could sense the air in Vera's lungs as she inhaled, the subtle shift of Tessa's bodyweight back on the orphanage's steps. It was a veritable storm of information, assaulting my senses and making me wince as I tried to grasp exactly what I was seeing.

The Ragoran stranger moved and I followed his motions without looking. I could see his soul within in his body, sense the rush of air against his Armour. Then something sparked within his body, something so small that had I not been focused on it I wouldn't have seen it at all. A spark of Lightning shifted through him with each movement, causing his blood and bone to light up briefly in a brilliant white before settling down into a dark blue.

I had blocked each and every one of his strikes with ease. It had felt so natural, so smooth. Elora had been feeding me the Gift of Thought and combined with my new ability I was more than able to keep up with the stranger's greater speed.

I hadn't felt Vera move though. One moment she had been leaning up against a wall, seemingly uninterested in the battle unfolding before her and suddenly she was before me, glaive in hand. It had been too fast for my sight to catch and that fact alone told me that while it was a great boon, it was far from a perfect defence. The sight gave me the ability to see all around my immediate area, but my focus and inability to process the information fast enough was a hindrance.

I wanted to celebrate finally figuring out what the eye could do but I had more immediate concerns, like the Sister standing before me with a bleeding forehead. I dismissed the eye and my right lid closed in its absence, my left once again taking up the strain. Elora was still busy healing me but I could see well enough now that it was no longer an issue. I nodded gently at the Sister who smiled weakly in return.

“Are you alright?” I asked my mother, who still looked a little shaken.

“I'm fine, son, don't you worry. It was just accident,” The Sister glanced over my shoulder, “Even if that man's Smith was being an insufferable ass.”

“No swearing now, Sister,” I chuckled as I brushed aside her hair to check the wound, only for her to knock it away in irritation.

“I can swear all I want, Orin,” The Sister snapped, “And I have a cut, I'm not an invalid. I'll have Delithia look at it, she's good with a needle in case it needs stitches.”

“Are you sure? I can go with you.”

The Sister rolled her eyes and patted my arm, “Orin, my boy, you are a great many things but delicate is not one of them. Delithia has those dainty little fingers, and besides, I believe you have unfinished business out here.”

“I suppose I do,” I said grimly, hands curling once again into fists. This did not go unnoticed by the Sister who renewed her grip on my arm.

“All is well, Orin. I slipped. It happens to old women like me.”

“You're not that old, Sister.” I quipped with a smile.

“Oh, how I wish that was true,” The Sister laughed, “Go on now and no more fighting. You are very strong, my son, but the street is already half destroyed and I'd like it to remain partially intact lest I trip again.”

The Sister continued to laugh as she turned and made her way into the orphanage. Her steps were sure and steady, which did a lot to alleviate some of the anger I still held in my heart. I turned to look at the street and couldn't help but wince at the destruction I had wrought outside my own home. Justified it may have been, but seeing the cruel scars of combat so close to the orphanage struck me as wrong. I turned to Tess and found my Smith staring at me with wide eyes, a grin on her lips.

“It worked. You saw.”

“I did. Turns out all I needed to do was go blind to get it to work. Imagine that?” I was beginning to regret how all of the increases to my abilities seemed to only come when I was experiencing unimaginable pain.

Light emerged from my chest, quickly forming into a rather exhausted looking Princess Elora who all but collapsed into my arms with a heavy sigh, a sheen of sweat across her forehead.

“That was exhausting,” Elora grumbled into my chest as her tired eyes closed, “Is the Sister alright?”

“She is. She's going to have Delithia take a look at her cut.”

“Thank the Spirit,” Elora sighed as she exhaled. “I wonder if we'll ever have one outing that doesn't end in some form of fighting?”

“If we're lucky, it'll keep happening,” Tessa grinned at Elora, her sharp canines catching the light as her face was wreathed in terrifying shadow. “If you want, I can do the fighting next time.”

“It is your turn,” Elora replied with a smaller smile, “Plus, you haven't used Gifts in combat yet. Though something tells me you'll be alright with that.”

“Your Highness,” A call came from behind us and the three of us turned to see Vera, Annabelle and the guests she had brought with her.

Vera had taken a knee, white hair securely tied as she bowed her head to Elora. Annabelle following suit with a delicate curtsey, the picture of elegance and grace.

“My Lady,” Wheezed a rather battered looking bronze plated Knight as he too took a knee, though his deference was aimed towards Tessa and not to the Princess.

I raised an eyebrow at Tess who was staring at the stranger uncomfortably, “Friend of yours?”

“Not exactly,” Tessa muttered back to me, “He is Alden, a Knight in service to my father. He was once the head of my personal guard, back in Nian.”

She looked like she wanted to say more, but she stopped herself before the words came out. Three days ago, before we had Bonded, I would have left it at that. But she was a part of me now, as I was a part of her. There shouldn't be any secrets between us, at least not those that cause her pain.

I put my hand on her arm, squeezing gently to reinforce my point. She didn't flinch away from my touch as she once did, instead she sighed in relief, her eyes closing as she relaxed.

“Tessa, what is it?” I asked, staring the young mercenary out with my eye.

Tessa licked her lips uncomfortably, dragging her gaze away from Alden and pinning me with a steely grey stare, “He gave me to Boldrin when I was a girl. It's bringing up some... uncomfortable memories.”

I had never seen Tessa happier than in the last few days. She was still herself, still surly, still quick to criticize and to mock, but she was far more open with her own feelings. To me and to Elora both. The fact that she told me what was troubling her meant the world to me. That she was willing to try, willing to open up, even if it was just to me, made me wish I had Bonded with her back in Paldrum.

For her sake, I controlled my fury.

It was black. It roiled around in my stomach like some vicious demon, clawing at the walls, begging to get out and to be unleashed on the world. On the pitiful form of the Knight who kneeled before me.

My soul screamed and the flames grew to nearly twice their height as they spat bloody murder in a shower of silver sparks. I hadn't done a good job of hiding it, for both Tessa and Elora both looked at me with concern plain upon their faces, but I did control it. Tess seemed to realise why I had suddenly sent waves of anger from my soul and her face flushed as she looked at the stairs, idly tapping her foot against the top step. There was the barest hint of a smile on her lips.

“Why are you here?” I asked, my hand clenching into a fist, nails digging into the palm of my hand. “I told you to stay away from me, Vera. I told you we were done. Why come here, now, with a Ragoran in tow?”

“I'm gonna have to see someone about cleaning all of this up,” Vera replied, dismissing my question completely, “You really need to control your anger, Orin. Killing an ally, especially one so closely related to your own Smith, would hardly be proper.”

“I wasn't going to kill him,” I replied easily, to the surprise of all those present with the exception of my Smiths, “I was just going to beat the shit out of him, which I did.”

The Ragoran flinched at that as I continued to stare at Vera, “I knew he was Ragoran and given that Tess is from Nian, I knew he must have some sort of connection to her. Otherwise you wouldn't have brought him. So, have you got something to say, Alden, former head of my Smith's guard?”

“I do, Lord,” Alden said, his words strangely formal as he dismissed his armour. It revealed a well-built man in perhaps his late thirties. Old for a Knight who seemed to be so weak, especially when standing next to Vera and Annabelle, who were a few years his junior. He had the look of a career soldier, one I had seen a thousand times over my years with the band. His hair cut short and his eyes hard, filled with a ruggedness that came with a life of war. “First I would like to apologise on behalf of my Smith. He can be foolish at times, but he abhors violence above all else. He never meant to do the Sister any harm, I swear.”

“My mother has already told me it was an accident, I accept that.” I stated blankly, not looking away from the Knight who met my gaze with the ease of a man who had faced down death many times. “What I don't accept is your Smith trying to take mine away against her will. Hardly the action of an ally.”

“I understand, sir Orin,” Alden nodded his head and clicked his heels together as he bowed, “But our time is limited. We must remove you and Lady Tessaraina to Ragora at once. I bear this message on behalf of Mastan D'viritazi and the entirety of his great house. The Hall knows of your existence, knows that an Heir once again walks upon Ouros. They are coming for you, sir Orin.”

Vera turned to look at the man with a frown on her face, Annabelle following suit, though her face remained as impassive as it had always been. “That's the reason you want them removed to Ragora? The Hall finding them was always a possibility.”

“My mother and father won't allow it,” Elora chimed in, “Orin is to be the future King of Venos and Tessa won't leave without him.”

“That's what I said,” Tess backed up Elora's words. “Where Orin goes, I go. I'm not leaving the city without my Knight.”

“You do not understand,” Alden whispered, “A meeting has been held in the Hall. One which your father, Tessaraina, was not made aware of. An agent has been dispatched, one who has the full authority of Tyra behind him. He will not hesitate to kill to reach his goal. You are not safe here, my Lady. No one is safe here, not while your Knight remains within these walls.”

“One man? One Knight? Orin has the protection of all the Knights in the Kingdom, not to mention the army, my mother and Vera. The Hall has little sway in Venos and neither does the church.” Elora frowned as she noticed Alden's expression remained unchanged despite her reassurances. “What is the name of the man they are sending, sir Alden?”

“Samuel, your Highness.”

The name meant nothing to me, Elora, or even to Tessa. But the effects it had on the First Knight and First Smith of Venos were drastic.

Vera turned pale. Her hands trembled, her eyes glazed over, unseeing, as though she was looking into the distant past, towards a horrible memory that was terrifying to behold, “They wouldn't...”

“When?!” Annabelle barked at the Ragoran, who took a step back from the suddenly hostile First Smith. Annabelle had been transformed by the mere uttering of the name. Her famously icy facade cracked and shattered as her lips twisted in anger, her cold eyes burning with the heat of fear and dread. Everyone was taken aback by that. It was a commonly known fact that the Lady Annabelle embodied the Ice Element better than her own Knight, yet now she seemed to exude the opposite, her emotions on full display, “When was he dispatched?”

“I cannot know for certain,” Alden began, “But the journey from the Hall to Venos is longer than from Ragora. I left two weeks ago, two days after my master received word. If the agent is moving at full speed, then-”

“Then he's a few days away. A week at most,” Vera murmured, her fingers trembling despite the lack of cold, “You should've told us. You should've said something... I... I can't...”

“Vera!” Annabelle snapped, ripping her Knight free from the spectres of her own mind, “We must see the King and Queen. We all go. Now!”

Annabelle disappeared into a blaze light, faster than any Etherin transformation I had seen before. She sank into the chest of her Knight, who shook her head and snarled at the air. Colour returned to her cheeks as Vera got a hold of herself.

I couldn't believe what I had just seen. Vera and Annabelle looked shocked, but beyond that they were afraid. Since I had met Vera she had been the ideal of strength in my mind, a goal that I would strive to overcome. I looked at her and saw true power. Even moments ago she had proven just how wide the gap between us was. What was so special about this Samuel to generate such a reaction?

Why had Vera looked so terrified?

“Annabelle's right,” Vera said as she turned to face me, “We must see Gida and Julian. Bond your Smiths, Orin, and try to keep up. No arguments, no complaints. We'll be moving fast.”