Born in the Flame

Chapter Four

     
After I closed up the shop, I headed back over to the tavern. A pint of mead is exactly what I needed after what occurred this afternoon. Every time I asked my father what his deal was or anything involving death steel, he would just give a grunt. That grunt being the equivalent to a 'shut up before I make you'.

Me having the curiosity only matched by a cat, I needed to find out what was going on. It was clear, my father's lips were sealed shut. Once that vault that is his mind was locked, it was locked shut until I could at least present to him my own understanding. Only then would it maybe inch open enough to get a more clearer picture of what was going on. Unfortunately for me, the only other person that seemed to have any clue what death steel was obviously had a distaste toward anyone in this city besides my father.

Tonight, the tavern was packed to the brim with travelers. Instead of only a few musicians playing on the small stage, it was a full band. A bass, piano, trumpet, and tambourine played with each other and filled the room with music and a certain lightness that I personally couldn't feel at present. My head was weighed down by a few tons worth of questions that had gone unanswered. Fortunately, I was determined to figure out what was going on.

My brother spotted me the moment I walked in, and as per usual, began pouring me a pint. A look of question in his eyes grazed on my own as I sat down in front of him.

"Find out anything?" He asked before I could even take a sip of my drink.

"No, you know how Pa' gets all tight-lipped." I breathed, finally taking a gulp of the warm mead.

"Well, any other ideas?" He asked, leaning in close.

"There's only one other person who knows what they asked of him." I mumbled.

"Gods, him?" His face contorted into an expression of disdain. "I have a feeling he's tighter lipped than our father."

"We'll see. Get me a glass of brandy." I gave a wicked smile. Sigurd, seeing the gears turning in my head, realized what I was going to do. "Brandy. Good choice. I don't think those dawn elves know how to handle our ale."

Sigurd made sure to whisper the words to ensure that no one heard about who we harbored in our tavern. Sliding me the glass, he motioned his head toward the balcony; indicating to me where the male was. Nodding my head, I took the small glass in my hand and headed toward the balcony, my own pint in my other hand.

As Sigurd had indicated, the dawn elf was out there. Leaning against the railing, clutching onto a book, he silently stared eastward. I saw a twitch in his ear that told me he heard me coming.

"You're almost as loud as them when you walk." He stated in a quiet tone.

"Well, I've lived here my whole life. I'm bound to pick up a few things." I said, fighting to keep my face from snarling. "I figure you might not have a taste for our ale, so I brought brandy."

His eyes lazily moved over to me, then to the drink. Slowly, his hand moved to grab the glass. Without a mere 'thank you', he took it and followed by a swig of the amber liquid.

"If your father didn't tell you what I asked of him, what makes you think I would?" He asked. His jade eyes didn't leave the glass as he swirled the liquor within.

"You're desperate." I stated with a certain tautness in my tone. Before he could come up with a retort, I added, "Before you have the audacity to lie and say you're not, I'll remind you how you fidgeted when you entered the shop."

With his mouth opening to dispute the claim, I cut him off.

"You also left in such a state, it told me all I needed to know. If you need someone to get through to my father, it'll be me. I work with him day in and day out. I see him more than my own mother does." His full attention was now on me. Easy. "If you want me to convince him, you'll need to convince me."