---
Chapter 18 - Opinions
---
Sitting in her room playing patient was the last thing Skye wanted to be doing.
"This isn't going to be any different from last time," said Skye, staring at Callum's waiting hand.
“Humour me,” he said.
Skye gave in and lifted her arm for examination. Callum took it and gently unwound the bandage, revealing the pale skin of her forearm beneath.
The bruises were fading, thanks to a combination of his ministerings and her own failed healings. For whatever reason, Skye found it nearly impossible to heal herself, though others, whether the Silverborn or the people of Alguarde, posed no problem for her magic.
But it wasn't the bruises he was interested in.
“Does it hurt if I do this?” said Callum, touching the end of the long wound inflicted by the Commander's soul blade--the ones that refused to close, refused to heal.
“No.”
“This?”
Skye snatched her arm away as pain flared up her limb. Her fingers brushed against the soul blade's injury, once more sending a spike of pain through her arm. She kept her face neutral and pulled her fingers away, not understanding why it still hurt so much.
“I’ve told you. It’ll heal eventually. It won’t kill me.”
Callum stood up, crossing his arms over his chest. “And I’ve told you. You’re not getting out of here until I’m satisfied. Now, let me look at it again.” He held out a hand. “Please.”
"I've suffered worse injuries from sparring," said Skye. "It'll be fine."
Callum raised an eyebrow. "And how many of those injuries were caused by a magical blade?"
Skye had to concede the point. She cautiously returned her arm to his waiting hand.
"Just don't touch it."
He smiled at her. She refused to meet his eyes, instead glaring at the thin line traced down her arm where it lay on her flesh, taunting her.
Callum turned her arm over, tutting and clicking his tongue as he jotted various notes down on his nearby notepad with a pen that never left his person.
"This'd be easier if you could just heal yourself," he muttered after she made a noise of protest. to his application of some sweet smelling paste. "Even the minor injuries would help speed it up."
“"We tried that already, remember?"
She winced a second time as he pulled the bandage tighter. “Yes, but you’ve made several visits to the Silverborn infirmary. You healed them well enough.” He caught the surprise flashing across her face. “Oh yes, I know about those. So does Tayne, even if you think you're being sneaky about it. ”
“They were hurt defending me. I wasn’t going to let them suffer for it.”
He gave her a quizzical look as he finished securing the bandage. “So... you’re making yourself suffer for letting them get hurt?”
Skye took her arm back, cradling it to her chest. “No, I just can’t heal myself. I don’t understand why. It’s like the magic just doesn’t realise what I want it to do,” she said. "It just stops."
"And the mark on your shoulder?" asked Callum. "Has there been any change with that?"
"Just the occasional pulse at night that makes it feel like it's on fire," said Skye.
Callum sat down on the bed beside her. Shifting his attention from her arm, he prodded her shoulder with tender fingers.
“It is the strangest wound.” He tilted his head in thought and retrieved a small pouch from his bag on the floor. “I’m just going to try something. Hold still while I do it--it won’t hurt but I’d rather not lose this if it doesn't work.”
Two fingers disappeared inside the pouch, surfacing a moment later with a pinch of silvery dust. He tapped her elbow, asking her to lift it, and sprinkled the dust across the protruding edge of the mark where the Master's pinky had been placed. He watched it carefully, as if expecting something to happen. A long minute of silence passed, and he sighed.
“What was that supposed to do?’ asked Skye, unable to let it go without an answer.
He clucked his tongue and dusted the powder back into the pouch. “It’s designed to draw out corruption from demon’s blood for our use. I figured it might have an effect, since it was corrupted magic that caused it. It was a long shot, but it worth a try.”
Skye raised an eyebrow. “Why would you want demons blood? Do the Silverborn use poisons?”
“No, we don't," said Callum. "Purified demon’s blood is actually a key component to several antidotes. It’s powerful stuff, assuming it’s been handled correctly.” He clucked his tongue, making several notes in a book he seemed to always carry around. He nodded to himself. “In any case, I’m going to have to recommend--“
A knock at the door interrupted whatever he was about to say. Skye seized the opportunity, jumping to her feet.
The door creaked open. Tayne entered, followed by Luke, Nissa and Jesse. They wore half armour, swords hanging from their sides. Behind her, Callum coughed, trying to get her attention back. Skye bit back a smile.
“What might you be doing here?” Skye asked Tayne.
Tayne raised an eyebrow at her. “Why hello to you too. I just came to see how our esteemed patient was recovering. You appear to be in good hands.”
Glancing back at Callum who was still making notes, Skye shrugged. “I can’t complain about that I suppose.”
Jesse came to stand beside Tayne. He glanced at his superior. Tayne waved him on with a hand. Jesse’s face lit up and he bounced forward.
“How are you? Have you healed completely er... well, you know, more yet? Can you, um, come out and uh see the city yet?” said Jesse. Skye tried to hide her laughter. He barely contained his excitement, looking as if he wanted to grab her by the wrist and show her everything right now.
“I’m better than what I was. The cut on my arm and shoulder mark aren’t healing properly. And--“
“But you can just magic them better, can’t you? Like you did with me?”
Skye indicated to the bandage wrapped around her arm. “I’ve tried. It doesn’t work.”
Jesse’s face fell at the news, clearly disappointed. “I suppose that means you won’t be able to leave yet,” he said.
Callum looked up, folding his book away under his arm. “Oh, I think at this point she won't listen to me if I tell her that. She’s in good health and I trust you’ll keep her out of harm’s way. Staying in this room is going to do her more harm than good, and I may lose my sanity in the process.” He smiled. “She has my permission to leave, granted she returns by nightfall.”
Tayne tapped a finger on his chin.
“Well, I’d take her, but Luke, Nissa and I have to attend a meeting with the King. We’re organising Silverborn trials in two weeks, there’s a lot of work involved." He gave a meaningful look at Jesse. "If only there was someone else!”
The young Silverborn thrust his hand in the air, bouncing on his toes. “I can take her!”
Nissa elbowed Luke in the side as he snorted with laughter. Luke nudged her back and stuck out his tongue.
Tayne laughed. “Well, it’s a good thing I brought you along then. I’ll see you later, Skye.” He waved a hand in farewell and exited the room, followed by Luke and Nissa after saying their own goodbyes. Jesse turned back to Skye, his excitement infectious. She found a smile creeping onto her face.
*+*+*+*
They wandered through the streets, Jesse leading her down an increasingly complicated maze of paths, houses, and shops. He talked constantly, an excited stream of babble rolling off his tongue as he pointed out particular places.
“Over there’s one of my favourite places to buy bread. They make it every day and it’s always fresh when I buy it. Actually, I’m going to buy some now just so you can try it. Silverborn obviously, you know, get money and such because it’s our job defending the city and its people and stuff, and the people are always really nice and they usually give me free stuff, even if I refuse, because, um, you know, we defend them...”
Skye kept close to him as he headed into the bakery and sparked a conversation to life. The buildings were massive, and if she were honest, they intimidated her. 'Huge' didn't begin to define Alguarde, yet somehow the streets still managed to be crowded with hundreds of people going about their lives.
She thanked the colder day that allowed her to keep the cowl of her cloak up, but even so she and Jesse still drew attention. People stopped to talk to him, thank him or report something suspicious they'd seen and soon realised they didn't recognise the girl was was with him. Skye could nearly pinpoint the moment they noticed her streaked hair and pointed ears.
From then, it took about twenty minutes for word to get around that the newly acclaimed Sentinel was patrolling the streets with a Silverborn. The streets became even more clogged than before as people came out of their houses just to see if the rumour was true.
Jesse's knowledge of the city saved them from being mobbed. More than once, he turned them down a sidestreet or walked them through a two-entrance shop, much to the delight of the shopkeeper inside.
As they moved, Skye began to pick out details of her busy surroundings. She took note of individual clothing pieces, could identify a shop from a house, and figure out the groups within crowds Jesse seemed to be avoiding.
When she asked him about the brown-robed figures that would gather around corners, he made a face.
"They're sorta one of Alguarde's bigger cults," he said. "They usually stand on crates and yell at anyone walking by about the deities and things. They're all nuts, and with you being a Sentinel, they'd probably try to kidnap you to help you 'realise your potential'...not that they'd stand a chance against you, of course," he added quickly. "Hey look, the glassblowers!"
Jesse led Skye inside and introduced her to the human inside, an older woman with greying hair who immediately piqued her curiosity with the shining wonders shelved around her. Skye was taken by the spectacular designs and the way they caught the light, and the artisan allowed her to stay as she crafted an intricate glass vase, calling the molten shape into existence.
When the woman noticed how many people were suddenly coming into the shop, she offered to let Skye have it when it was finished. She refused, and with goodbyes said, Jesse led her out to the street once more.
They came to a corner after an hour of walking intermitted by short stops in various stores. Oblivious to the stares they were earning, Jesse pulled another roll from his shrinking satchel and bit into it, savouring the taste.
“We should go down here," he said through the roll. "I think you’ll like it. Oh, and, uh, Tayne wanted me to check with him.”
Decision made, he turned and continued marching down the cobbled street. Skye followed, curious as to what new wonder he’d found for her. When they came to a halt outside a blacksmith, she raised an eyebrow. They’d passed several of these, and he’d shown no interest. What was so special about this one?
Jesse walked through the door, a bell signalling their arrival. A metallic bang rang out through the shop every second or so in a steady, rhythmic beat. Skye peered around, allowing her eyes to adjust to the dimmed light. The sunlight filtering through the dirtied windows did little to light the room. When she saw no one, she glanced at Jesse, who shrugged.
A muffled voice called from some hidden part of the room. “We’re closed. Read the sign on the door before ya barge in next time, would ya?”
“Karrosh, is that you?” asked Jesse, leaning over the counter and looking into the sectioned off area to the right. The banging stopped, and a gruff looking man appeared. He was wrapped in a dark apron, sleeves rolled past his elbows.
“Jess? That you?”
Jesse nodded enthusiastically. “Yup. It’s me alright.”
“And who’s your friend? Ya know it’s rude to be wearing hoods indoors,” said Karrosh.
Jesse jumped back and gestured at Skye. “Oh! Right, um, sorry! Skye, meet Karr. He’s the Silverborn’s blacksmith. Karr, meet Skye. She’s the Sentinel we found.”
Karrosh was silent for a moment, looking at her expectantly. Skye pulled down her hood, letting it rest on her shoulders as she shook her hair free. She stood there, returning his gaze as he looked her up and down.
“So," he said at last. "I see the rumours are true. Ya did find one. Many thought your type died out, missy.” He grabbed a cloth from his apron, wiping it over his hands. "Some probably wish they 'ad, too."
Skye ignored his comment. “Jesse said you make the Silverborn armour?”
“Nay. I don’t make it. Merely repair it, I do. None ‘as been made for nearly two centuries, I do believe. Required the silver ones of your lot to put the proper enchantments upon it. I just fix those up with an etherstone.”
Jesse finished the last of his roll, licking the last crumb off his finger. “That’s why we risked taking the time to retrieve the armour from... um, well, the ones that, um, didn't make it back.” He dropped his head onto his arms. “We have limited resources. The enchantments, like, give us our abilities. Whispers and stuff can only be left on enchanted items, like our swords, armour and equipment like tents and, uh, equipment.”
“I ‘eard you lost a lot, this time Jess.” Jesse nodded glumly in response. “Be glad it wasn’t you, I suppose, and move on.”
“It almost was. Skye saved me from a tainted’s blood. Else I’d have been dead.”
“Ah.”
The three fell into a comfortable silence. Karrosh wiped away at several metal objects, while Jesse looked lost in thought. He stared at the wooden bench as if it held all the answers in the world. His head jerked up after a long minute.
“Oh! I almost forgot,” said Jesse. Counting on his fingers, he listed off things he’d clearly been told earlier. “Tayne said he’d like you to have another fifteen repaired in the next two weeks, including the ones you have now. He said he’d send them to you tomorrow, um, if you have room. And, um, if you wanted Andro and a few others.”
Karrosh growled. “Another fifteen? I still ‘aven’t finished your first lot yet! Your entire group needed some kind of repairs or another.” He threw his hands into the air, sending the cloth flying. “You lot are just lucky the King pays well. I’ll ‘ave Andro, but the rest were useless last time. Taking up my space and slowing us down, they were! Useless!”
Jesse nodded. “Uh, okay. Well, um, yea. You seem like you have a lot to do. I’ll come back tomorrow if I can and bring you a roll or two. You liked them last time, yes?”
The blacksmith merely rolled his eyes. “If you must. Now, be off with you!”
Jesse waved over his shoulder as he opened the door. Skye copied his action before being hustled outside.
“He seems... nice,” she said finally.
“He’s a nice guy. Little, well, cranky, but what can you expect? We demand a lot of him,” said Jesse. He looked into his satchel before disappointment crossed his features. “Although he has a lot more work than he usually does, I suppose. Come on, I want to show you the wards up close without a corrupted jerk on our tails.” He took off at a brisk walk, heading towards the wall.
She followed him as he began walking again, not bothering to pull the hood over her hair. If they want to look, I’ll give them something to look at, she thought. They already know I’m here. “Why is it that it’s only him taking care of your armour?”
“And our weapons," Jesse added. "And honestly, I think it’s because he’s the only one Tayne trusts enough. I dunno. It’s kind of odd. Silverborn armour has to be treated carefully, even with an etherstone to let him refuel the magic in it, or the enchantments will be useless. I’m not sure. I’m not a blacksmith or a Sentinel. Andro is, so I suppose that’s why Karrosh likes his help.”
“Andro's the Silverborn's blacksmith?" asked Skye.
"No, Andro was a blacksmith before he became a Silverborn," said Jesse. "We're not from any special backgrounds. We need to have some kinda weapon training before we join, but the Silverborn hold training for anyone who wants to learn to defend themselves anyway. I did a bit of that before I passed the trials."
"What were you before you became a Silverborn?"
Jesse looked at her and shrugged. “I used to be a farmer’s son, working out in Alguarde’s fields. There’s a few wards out there and stuff, but lesser demons still get through from time to time, so my dad taught me how to swordfight to defend myself. I, uh, kind of thought it was silly, carrying a sword around the field, until my mother was attacked and I saved her. I decided I wanted to do more then, and I passed the trials the Silverborn hold for new initiates. Barely. Luke almost ripped me apart in the physical part,” he said, wrinkling his nose. “That hurt.”
Skye's lack of hood drew people's eyes like moths to the flame. They scurried to get out of their way, no longer attempting to talk to Jesse, nearly falling overthemselves in the process.
“Trials?" she asked, determined to ignore them.
“You’ll see them in a few weeks," said Jesse. "Tayne’s organising one now. They go over a three day thing usually. Anyone can try out for them, you just have to sign up so Tayne knows what to organise.”
I wonder if Tayne would let me join, wondered Skye.
A woman moved away, dropping her basket. Her items scattered away in all directions as she moved to frantically pick them up. Jesse stopped to help her retrieve them, frowning as he noticed for the first time how the people were reacting to Skye. “There’s a physical side and a mental-purity side. Basically they make sure you can fight, and then they make you drink from a cup.”
Skye wasn't sure she'd heard him right. “...Cup?”
Handing the basket back to the lady, who nodded her thanks before scurrying off, Jesse looked troubled.
“Uh huh. A cup. I dunno, it’s the thing that makes sure you're not corrupted, then gives you the extra strength and stuff, but I don't remember much about it. It was weird.” Jesse glanced around, looking the crowd gathering behind them and seeing their whispers and evil warding hand gestures. . “Seriously, what is your problem, people? She’s an elf. One with magic that saves people. Feel free to say hi, she doesn’t bite or anything!”
Outburst done, he huffed and turned on his heel. Skye took off after him. He stopped at the foot of a ward tower, gazing up at the light at its peak with folded arms.
“As much as I appreciate it, what was that about?” asked Skye as she came up behind him. She joined him, watching the light as it shifted between silver, red and green. It was entrancing. The colours danced and wove within the floating air-liquid. "They can whisper and stare all the want, it doesn't affect me."
“Because,” said Jesse. “You don’t, well, you don’t deserve it of course!” The torrent of words came out, tumbling over one another faster than they had previously. “Because you’re amazing and you’ve used your magic only to save people and it’s not fair that you’re treated like a kind of plague! Uh, not that I think you’re a plague, um, that was a really bad comparison." He glanced down at his feet. "Uh, sorry about that.”
Skye was unable to stop the smile. “Well, it’s nice to know you don’t think I’m a plague.” She sighed. “I don’t know. People fear what’s different; especially when different can be associated with an evil like the corruption. The only other Sentinel they know wants them as demons.”
He stomped a foot. “It’s not good enough! You got past the wards, didn’t you? That should be enough proof for them! Corruption can’t get through them, well, mostly anyway! After the way you healed me, I mean I thought I was going to die and then you just exploded the room with that light, and the pain just disappeared! It was like... ow.”
She was confused for a moment, before she realised his last word wasn’t connected to his rant. Jesse stood there, shaking his hand and prodding it carefully. A thin red line traced its way down his hand. He scowled. “I must have cut it on that metal thing I picked up for the lady. Stupid, stupid.” Jesse shook his hand violently before flinging it to his side, curled into a fist.
Skye's magic reacted before she did, dancing around her hand. She took Jesse's hand and covered it with her own, willing the magic to seep into his skin and heal it. He tensed at first, but saw the light and relaxed soon after. Skin tingling, she uncovered his hand to reveal unmarked skin.
“See," he said with a sigh. "Amazing. Just amazing.” He took her hand, squeezing it between his fingers gently. “I just wish everyone else could see that." He gazed at her longingly, searching her eyes for something known only to him.
Skye felt the heat rising to her cheeks. She took her hand away quickly, pretending to brush a stray strand of hair away from her face before studying the ward intently, whose green sparks were now predominant. After a silent moment, Jesse moved beside her once more. He smiled.
“I suppose we should head back, um, if you don’t mind. It’ll take at least an hour, and I, uh, want to buy a few more of those rolls,” he said, turning to go. This time, he waited for her to follow before taking off.
She followed with a last glance at the ward behind her, still alight with green sparks. The stares of the people surrounding her no longer seemed so important.
*+*+*+*