“That’s correct,” I said, my voice louder than I expected it to be. I glanced to the group of elves in the opposite corner of the room, but they showed no sign that they had heard me.
“It’s possible that you have yet to connect with your shifter ability, although I’ve never heard of that to happen. You are telling me you have never shifted, nor showed a single sign that you have the ability?”
The second he finished speaking I knew exactly how to answer, with yet another lie. I almost felt guilty, but then, if it meant hiding the truth I would do it.
“I’ve never thought about it like that,” I said, bringing my voice back to a whisper and locking eyes with him, “I suppose that might explain why.”
“I have not heard of that being a case before, but I will be sure to speak to Commander Alina when we return and explain the reasoning.”
“Or, you can send me back home. I am not a fighter, never touched a weapon in my life, and I am pretty sure the Commander wouldn’t mind seeing the back of me. Can’t you tell her it was all a mistake and I’d not eaten during the feast?”
I was almost shocked at my own words, asking the prince of Thessolina to lie to his own people. But he didn’t seem fazed by my request.
“Oh, you definitely ate, Zac, but nice try.” He laughed, leaning back in his stool. “You will not be returning home, as you heard we need all the help we can get with the…” he looked around, “threats. And plus, with the calluses on your hands, and the slight crock of your two fingers, it would seem to me you are very well in tune with a bow and arrow.”
I peered down at my hands, noticing the same marks that Hadrian had pointed out. Nothing got past him, not even such a small detail.
“Finish your drink. I have somewhere to stop before we head back. I would not want to keep you all day, and I have some duties to complete this afternoon, so training will have to begin tomorrow.”
“Training?” I asked, confused.
“You really think you are going to be missing out? I will not have it. You will train with me personally; I have always wanted a project and this seems like the perfect opportunity to begin.”
I smiled to appease him, although I wanted nothing more than to throw his drink in frustration at the wall.
My head spun, more from the ale than the over load of information. I downed the last of my second drink as Hadrian finished his first.
I had to grip onto the table when I stood. The ale had caused a slight dizziness to settle over me. Hadrian pulled up a velvet pouch from his person and placed a coin on the table, then turned away and walked for the door. I followed close behind, squinting at the sudden light beyond the door as we left.
***
THE ELVES IN Olderim were so different from those back home. Even those who lived in the cramped, leaning houses that lined the streets still beamed with happiness. I noticed many differences between those back home and the elves around me. My hair was up in its silver messy bun, the back and sides had been shaved close to my skin. Those around me all had the luxury of long, wavy hair—all different colours and shades, a style that suited city life, not the working life on a farm. Their body shapes were all so different, all blessed with the abundance of food that those back in Horith didn’t have. I noticed as one young elf I walked past pointed to my left ear, noticing the two ringed piercings that glinted in the sunlight, another clear indicator of what set us apart. I wonder what they all must have been thinking of me whilst I trailed behind their Prince.
Hadrian lifted the hood of his malachite shade cloak, concealing his hair. It didn’t stop the passing crowds to spot him and point.
I kicked at loose stones, sending them skittering over the uneven street. I could still feel the ale. I felt giddy and light. A mixture between a burp and a hiccup escaped past my lips and I threw my hand to my mouth. Hadrian laughed ahead, and I was glad he didn’t turn around to see my face burning red with embarrassment.
We passed through a maze of streets and finally stopped beside one of the oldest buildings in that part of Olderim. It was clear that it had no upkeep from the faded paint that was peeling from its dark wooden surface. A sign hung from above the marked doorframe, the image of an anvil painted on the panel that swung in the breeze. To the side of the door, a large window allowed passers-by to see inside at the many objects displayed. I first thought it was my drunken vision that seemed blurry, but I soon noticed on closer inspection the window was covered in a thick layer of dust. I squinted and rubbed a circle rid of dust. I could make out the outlines of swords hanging from walls and shields propped up against the tilted cabinets inside.
“I shall not be long,” Hadrian said, giving me a quick smile. The door creaked when he pushed it open, rusted metal hinges screaming in protest. “Wait out here, and please refrain from going out by yourself. These streets are not always kind to the lone traveller.”
And with a final nod, he entered the shop.
I peeked inside of the shop’s window, expecting to see Hadrian walk by. But he didn’t. It was dark inside, not a single light or sign of life.
Giving up on the idea of spying, I leaned against the ledge of the shop and waited, losing myself in the crowds that sauntered past.
Time moved on and with it my curiosity peaked. At one point, I even believed that Hadrian had forgotten about me. That he had taken a secret exit from the building and left me alone. What would a prince possibly want from a rundown weapons shop when he could have access to finest choices back at Vulmar Palace?
Giving into curiosity, and wishing for another way of passing the time, I moved closer to the window and peaked back inside.
The usual, rusted and simple made weapons were similar to those back in Horith. Long swords with broken handles, stained shields and miss-matched armour filled the room, giving the impression that it was more of a burial site for old weapons than a shop selling them.
I caught movement in the corner of my eye and heard the faint scurry of small feet. A rat, deep brown with long white whiskers ran across the floor. I watched it bob and weave around scattered weapons until it disappeared into a small hole in the wall. My breath hitched at the object that hung above where the rat had disappeared. A bow, unlike any I’d seen before.
It was made from deep oak wood. From where I stood, I could see purple vein-like rivets etched into its surface; it left me speechless. Facing me on the handle sat a large green stone, dulled from the dust that lay atop it, but still bright enough to show the importance the bow once had. The bowstring was frayed and ruined, but its body seemed timeless.
“See something you like?” I jumped, surprised to see Hadrian beside me.
“What is this place? And why is it not open for business? There are so many weapons that would sell, and many that wouldn’t.” I said the last part under my breath.
Hadrian’s face creased, his thick dark eyebrows pinching together, one down and the other lifting up.