The Amulet of Kryshar

Chapter 15

Melanie and I glanced at each other. Irin snapped out of her thoughts and sat down again. "I would personally teach you about Kryshar's recent tragic history, but I think that Warren would be a more suitable person to talk to. He should be outside, somewhere around camp. He is the oldest surviving wielder, so he will have more to tell you about the Shattering than I would be able to. Nathiel, go with them." The last part Irin told the boy without even looking at him.

Getting up, he stalked out of the tent, not caring if we kept up with him or not. I scampered out to follow him after I mumbled a hasty goodbye to Irin. I looked for Nathiel, only to find out see him walking at a leisurely pace a distance away. Melanie huffed with annoyance and we both sprinted after him, earning us some stares and irritated shouts from the wielders milling around the camp.

We skittered to a stop behind Nathiel, almost bumping into him. He glared at me in particular for some reason, whilst hissing, "Can't you be a bit more careful, wolf girl?"

Unsure, I stood still, not knowing what to retort. I basically had no leverage at all over him, no way to argue against him. My thoughts were interrupted by a deep, hearty chuckle. "Now, now, my boy. That's no way to treat a lady, now is it?" A man with a long, brown, fuzzy beard which was greying at his temples, stood up from where he was sitting on a stool that looked way too small for his big frame.

Melanie grinned victoriously. "Yeah, have more respect for us ladies," she spat.

Rolling my eyes, I turned back to the man. "Pleased to meet you. I'm Ruby." I held out my hand and he firmly grasped it in his giant, calloused one.

"Ah, so I finally get to meet the legendary heroes of our time. You have caused quite a commotion within our camp. I'm Warren." Surprised, I let go of his hand. According to Irin, Warren was the oldest surviving wielder in Kryshar. Warren only looked like he was in his early-fifties. So if he was the oldest...I felt a shiver go down my spine. With a terrible certainty, I somehow knew that the King has killed all the other wielders. For what, I had no idea. After short introductions, Warren sat back down. "Nathiel, you don't have to stay here with us. You already know the basics of what happened before and after the Shattering."

"Good, I didn't want to stay with these two anyways." He sent me one last glare. Melanie stuck out her tongue at him. I rolled my eyes. They were both so childish. But on second thought, am I really one to talk? Before I could continue those thoughts, I noticed a glow starting in the centre of Nathiel's chest. It spread all over his arms and legs until it covered his entire body. The glow intensified until I couldn't look at it without squinting and glancing away occasionally. But I did manage to see the glow turn into a ball of light and then it suddenly...switched off. As if someone hit a switch, the light disappeared. In its place, stood a proud falcon. Its keen eyes seemed to bore into mine and it snapped its sharp beak once, twice. With a flap of its graceful wings, it lifted into the skies and became smaller and smaller, until it was nothing but a circling dot in the darkening evening sky.

Warren sighed and shook his head. "Nathiel, that boy...He's too proud for his own good. He was probably showing off his magic to you ladies."

I snorted. "No way, he hates me." My voice trailed off when I noticed Melanie's cheeks redden out of the corner of my eye. Was she blushing?

She noticed me staring at her. "What?" she demanded.

I smirked knowingly. "Nothing," I chirped.

Confused, Melanie looked at me and finally focused on Warren again. He was looking up at the sky and noticed that it was almost night-time. He rummaged in his pack and pulled out a hunk of bread with dried fruits and started eating. "Are you girls hungry? We can have dinner now while I tell you what happened."