Weaver of Shadows
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“Ginny, Andrew, Fredric, and Felix. What were yours?”
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“Maybe,” he shrugged. “I thought your name sounded a little familiar, but maybe not. Anyway, I like your nonsensical thoughts, no need to apologize.”
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“Of course…anything for you,” he said, then blushed. Because he was Edgar, and he blushed a lot.
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“Yeah, I can do that,” he said back, visibly breaking away from his thoughts.
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Edgar smiled. He hoped Jenny would like the gift. Should he ask her now…no, still not yet. He’d have to wait a while, maybe until he knew himself.
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“I don’t think so…it’s supposed to do something with your weapons, I think. Something like that.”
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Awesome! Congratulations and good luck, you’ll do great! -
“It’ll help you, or it’s supposed to somehow. That’s the best thing it could do for me. He resisted the urge to snatch her hand away from it.
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Gift spun around their hands, almost seeming joyful. “Oh,” Edgar said, excited. I can’t believe I forgot!” He pulled his pack off, then reached inside, pulling out a wrapped mass, the head of Medusa. “I wanted you to have this.”
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Edgar sat next to her. Gift flowed to her hand, tugging it gently towards his.
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It’s just something that is personal to him, nothing bad about you.
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He’s…I’m not sure if I should share that. He’s good, for the most part. He likes being around you. He wants you to be safe, to not hurt, and so it worries him sometimes.
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“I think so.” He smiled back. He’d carry her if he needed to. Gift flowed to her and became a staff.
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“If you need to stop, we can. I’ll make sure everyone else does.”
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“I hope so.” He squeezed her hand. “Are you going to be ok to move today?”
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Edgar looked up at her, worried that she’d get hurt again. But she seemed ok…her stood up too, making sure to be close to her. “Yeah…definitely a kid.”
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“Maybe they aren’t working together, or at least not as much as we thought. It seems like Roy might want to though,” Edgar whispered to Jenny. @Lunamor
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“Fifteen, how old are you?”
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He sat there for a long time. No words needed to be said in his opinion, he just needed her.
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He leaned his head against her, trying to hold back tears. That had been scary. Really scary. It still was, this wasn’t something natural. What if it came back?
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Edgar wrapped an arm around her, holding her close, his worry getting the better of him for a moment. “I’m glad you’re ok. Really glad.”
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“It’s ok,” he said, dabbing at the cuts with his sleeve. “I’m fine, are you?” The cuts stung, but he hid the pain.
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He held back tears as the pain hit again. It seemed to almost come in waves, though it never left. ”I was, and I had four. I was thirteen during the rebellion, too young to be a peacekeeper.”
