Weaver of Shadows

Edgar looked over at Jenny. It seemed she’d already made a new friend. He was probably a better person than Edgar, a better friend. Edgar turned away. He knew what he was thinking was stupid, that he was probably wrong. That didn’t make it feel better though. And another friend gone. He threw his knife, his anger making him throw it much faster than he meant to. He wasn’t angry at Jenny, he doubted he could. At always, he was angry at himself.

He holds it tight back, leading her out of the building.

“If you say so, master Roy,” he said sarcastically.

I use a Messenger Hawk (named Hawky) to grab the sandwich and bring it to me.

“Isn’t that what we’ve been doing?”

“We haven’t been slowing you down.”

She…appreciated it? Most people hated it, even Kylee had admitted it annoyed her. He smiled at thought. He was smiling a lot these last few days, it seemed to have something to do with being around Jenny. He kept practicing, using his Gift.

He looked abashed. “Sorry, sometimes I’m a little…overprotective. I’d forgotten about that side of me.” He still wanted her to be careful though.

“Thanks, I couldn’t have done it without your help though. And practice seems like a good idea, no need to hurt myself any more.” He smiled at her. “And please don’t get yourself hurt either.”

He threw it, and, surprisingly, it was a pretty good throw. “Wow, thanks!”

He did it, his form matching hers almost exactly.

He adjusted his stance, making it correctly this time. He also tried to hide his blush as she touched his wrist, he wasn’t used to contact from anyone, especially not girls. He looked at Jenny, smiling. “Thank you.”

He tried his best to do what she said, it all made sense. But, without him knowing, his stance was off.

Edgar seemed worried when he saw the scar, even though it was obviously an old wound. He didn’t want her being hurt. He gripped the knife like she told him to, a comfortable weight in his hand.

He took it, and was immediately tempted to try throwing it up like she had. He didn’t, however, waiting for her to tell him how to do it. He could tell it was a well balanced blade, right he’d never really had anything else, the Gift was very good at balancing weapons. And everything else about weapons.

“I’d love to learn! My Gift might be able to improve my aim a little too.”

“I’m glad it’s not too bad, but I’m still sorry you got hurt in the first place.” He watched her throw the knife, seeming mesmerized.

Edgar started to say something as she almost dropped her dagger, but then stopped, seeing her go back to her earlier throwing height. “Thanks, I’ll remember that. You said earlier your injuries are mostly ignorable now, that’s good.”

“I had a little bit this morning, any more would be unnecessary and dangerous. Thank you though, I appreciate it.” He watched her toss the knife, uncomfortable. He didn’t want her to hurt herself. He considered asking her to stop, but decided against it. She seemed to know what she was doing.

“That’s a good idea. I’m…not sure how much I’d be able to help in my current condition.” He motioned to his arms and legs, all still burned, though they were looking better. He looked at Sword. Was she playing with it because she was nervous? He couldn’t tell.

“Yeah, I guess that’s true. I still don’t like him though.” He matched her tone, speaking so only she could hear him. “If, when a fight happens, we can make sure it doesn’t go too far. No matter how much I hate him, I don’t really want Roy dead.”

“I’m not surprised those two ended up together,” Edgar said, looking at Roy and Aaron. “I don’t trust-or like-either of them.” It was best to be honest about his feelings, if only with Jenny. She would help him see clearer if they were getting in the way. “Hopefully they’re not too much trouble, I don’t want another fight.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, unsure if she could hear him. She might be able too, his carvings tended to allow stuff like that, little things he wanted them to be able to do. A little ability from his dad, he assumed. He laughed, smiling truly and joyfully. This was nice.

He smiled back, trying to hide his worry that he’d done something wrong. She’d jumped when he’d touched her after all, maybe he shouldn’t have. “Of course, I’m happy to help.” He got to work, whittling a couple pieces of wood, then covering them in cloth. “These should block out most sounds,” he said, holding out a pair of rough-looking earplugs. They would be surprisingly comfortable when worn though.