Chapter 74

A Gift

“I have something for you,” Landryn said.

“You’ve already given it,” Femira wrapped the linen sheet around her body and rose from the bed.

“Not that,” Landryn said coyly, a sheepish grin pulling at his handsome face. It was a smile that warmed Femira’s heart.

She walked to an ornate desk by the wall and picked up a polished brass jug of water. She didn’t bother pouring a glass and simply gulped directly from the jug. She liked the tingle of the brass on her lips. The coolness of the liquid when drinking from metal over glass. She panted after taking a long drink. The linen clung to her clammy skin. She hadn’t noticed how vigorous their love making had been.

Landryn was draped on the bed and she took a moment to admire the shape of his naked body. He was lithe, every part of him was wrought iron from years of steady training. But his skin was surprisingly soft despite the hardness of his muscle. She lingered, leaning against the desk, the jug still in her hand.

“It’s outside, by the door,” Landryn said with a playful grin, and made no move to get up from the bed.

“You want me to get it?” She asked with mock incredulity.

“You’re already up.”

“You really are a Prince, aren’t you,” she pointed an accusing finger at him.

Femira put down the jug, bundled the sheet closer around herself, and moved into the antechamber of her palace accommodation. It was the finest room she’d ever stayed in and she was finding herself enjoying the luxuries more and more. She could easily see how people overstayed their welcome in the palace. Next to the door was a long object about the size of a spear wrapped in fine gold-threaded cloth. The cloth itself was probably worth more than anything she’d ever stolen in Altarea.

She vaguely recalled Landryn holding it when Femira had opened the door for him. But it was quickly discarded in their frenzied passion. The rush of kissing him again after not seeing him all day gave her a flutter in her stomach. Even now the memory of that feeling made her want to run back to the bed and jump on him.

Femira picked up the object and found it surprisingly light. Carrying it under her arm back into the room, she felt an unusual but familiar resonance beneath the cloth. What is this? It was metal surely or her edir wouldn’t have responded to it. But it was too light. Maybe glass? If he’d gotten her an ornamental glass spear, then he really did not know her very well. She could also fashion herself anything she liked out of metal or glass.

Back in the bedchamber Femira held out the bundle with an arched eyebrow.

“That’s it,” Landryn nodded.

“What is it?”

“Open it and see.”

“I’m not like the women at court, I don’t expect to be given trinkets because we’re sleeping together,” Femira teased but began unwrapping the cloth anyway.

“Does that look like a trinket?” He pouted with the hint of a smile.

“It’s light,” she said, “but a weird shape. Is it a paddle?!” She guessed while working at unwrapping the cloth.

“I know! You’ve got me a boa…” Femira trailed off as the sight of the smooth shiny black metal was uncovered. Suddenly, the familiar edir sense registered in her memory.

“Landryn,” she breathed, “…this.”

“You like it?”

“I-I’m not sure if I can accept this.” But she already knew that was out of the question.

Femira pulled back the rest of the cloth, revealing the complex shape of metal. It looked exactly as it had the last time she’d seen the nythilium. A large sword with two blades intertwining in a bizarre helix. She could see it in more detail now, the fine sharpened edges of the blades. The pommel and hilt in the same smoothed black. It was like no other sword she’d seen before. And she was the one who’d created it.

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“Your armour,” Femira started. Although it wasn’t armour anymore. “Nythilium.”

“You’re the only person known to shape it,” Landryn said. “It feels right that you should be the one to have it,” he insisted. She could see her own perfect reflection in the metal although shaded dark. Like a demon version of herself.

“My father’s scholars have been studying the Kragal’s body at Temple Beach. The nythilium was delivered to the palace this morning, they found it buried within the shell.” Femira ran her hand along the surface of the metal. Her edir thrummed gently against it. As before, she felt an unmistakable resonance from the nythilium. It was different from regular metals. Very different. She got the distinct impression that the sword seemed to remember her.

“The scholars are attributing your accomplishment to the fact you are soulforged.”

“It would make sense,” Femira replied without taking her eyes from the sword. She could feel an almost sentient presence within it. Like it knew her.

Femira reached out with her edir and felt the sword evaporate to dust in her hands. The black cloud flowed into her hands and chest, and within seconds was completely gone. Only the gold threaded cloth dangling limp in her arms remained. She heard Landryn suck in a breath from across the room and she looked up meeting his eyes.

“Incredible,” he breathed.

“It’s strange,” Femira said, cocking her head to the side.

“It’s so different from other metal and rock. I can feel it inside…” she placed a tentative hand against her chest. “But it still feels… separate from me. It’s hard to explain. The eradite inside feels like it’s part of me. When I draw in rock and metal, it’s like an extension of me. I can control it and it flows to my will. But this… I feel like it’s trying to tell me that I do not command it. That it flows in me because it has chosen to.”

“Can you shape it again?”

She pursed her lips in concentration. Stretched out an arm before her and guided the nythilium from her chest, it flowed down through her arms and golden light appeared along the lines of her veins. It flowed out of her, turning into a stream of black dust. In her mind, she called forth an image of a spear. The same shape she’d made a thousand times before in training. The nythilium resisted. It swirled and coalesced… but did nothing. She impressed the image of the spear harder and the black cloud thrummed in frustration.

There was a petulance in the impressions she felt on her edir. As before, she was imprinted with a series of outlandish and bizarre images, most of which she couldn’t even discern what they were. She imagined the shape of the helix blade and in an instant the black cloud rushed inwards on itself, consolidating back into the shape of the large sword.

“I’ve never seen a sword like that before,” Landryn remarked.

“Neither have I.”

“But then how?”

“I don’t know…” Femira shook her head, “it’s like the nythilium is telling me that this is the shape it wants to take.”

“Pity it won’t go back to being armour… Nythilium plate is all but indestructible. It also has some very interesting effects. You probably never noticed but every time Drad healed me, I needed to take it off. Something about the metal interferes with bloodstone and mindstone. When wearing it, neither has any effect. Quite useful when you’re faced against an enemy Foebreaker.”

“That’s a good benefit. I didn’t know that.”

“One of the reasons it’s so sought after. Father’s crown is made from the same stuff. To prevent any mindstone manipulation.”

“Your family has a lot of it?”

“A few relics that we’ve hung onto over generations. That armour had been in my family for centuries.”

“I’m sorry… for breaking it.”

“I’ve told you before, you need not apologise for saving my life.”

“Will your father be angry that you’ve given this to me?”

“Well…” Landryn unabashedly ran his fingers through his hair, “my father doesn’t know.”

“Will he not be furious?”

“I will handle him. You’re the first person we’ve known to ever runewield with nythilium. I think we’d be foolish to not explore that. I can convince my father of the tactical advantage that could be in the fighting to come.” Femira’s chest tightened at the last comment.

Femira and Landryn had barely discussed what the next move would be. The War Council was tomorrow and she didn’t know which direction Landryn would push. Prior to them returning to Epilas, he had been adamant that hunting the fomori was their priority. But the news of Daegan’s death had changed everything.

They spoke about Daegan a lot and she felt she was helping him through his grief. She was more than just a friend and confidant to him. She was… what was she? She was his lover. But not his wife. Rhianne Tredain was a thorn in her gut whenever she thought of her future with Landryn. Everytime Femira shoved aside thoughts of the woman, Rhianne always seemed to claw her way back into her mind eventually.

Femira raised her hand again, and breathed out. The blade dissolved once again and was absorbed into her. She could feel it there, thrumming inside of her. Landryn was still smiling at her and she felt compelled to rush towards him. She leapt up onto the bed and he grabbed her as she fell, pulling her in for an embrace. She kissed him, wrapping the linen sheet around them. She could feel him becoming aroused again and it stirred a warmth in her.

“So you like it?” he asked.

“I love it, thank you. It’s the nicest gift anyone’s given me.” It was the only gift anyone had given her in a long time. Not since her brothers had been killed.

She wanted to ask him what all of this was to him. What was she to him? She found that she didn’t have the courage to ask. She was enjoying their time together too much to spoil it with whatever the truth was. Instead she buried her face into his neck and kissed his skin.