Read Online Rise (War Witch Book 1) by Cain S. Latrani - Free Book Online
Authors: Cain S. Latrani
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help but grin widely.
Some boys were so easy to please. She was at the back door of the inn before she realized he was only two years younger than her, so she really shouldn't think of him as a boy.
By the time she reached the shed, it had fully sunken in that she wasn't that much older than Chara. She paused for a bit to think on that. She’d considered her a girl since they’d met, but she was as much a full woman as the warrior herself was.
It was odd, to her, how her life had warped her views. Father referred to even the oldest of mortals as children, calling them boys and girls, though in an affectionate way. Her internal voice had viewed both Chara and Daniel as children, though she saw now that it was a biased view.
On the other hand, her internal Rabbit was warbling about a rather inappropriate threesome. She chose to ignore that.
Shaking her head, she unlocked the shed and stepped inside, sneezing at the heavy layer of dust opening the door kicked up. She’d never been one for philosophical ramblings, and decided to simply treat the two as she would want them to treat her. As adults.
Though, Chara's moon eyes were going to make that difficult, she thought with a silent snicker.
Taking her time, she poked through the various crates and chests that filled the left side of the room, and rummaged about in the shelves that lined the right. She found a number of useless trinkets, and a few small things that she figured would be helpful to have. Keeping a mental inventory, she decided to ask Diem about it later.
Then she saw it. It’d been hidden back in the corner, away from prying eyes, mostly covered with a heavy oil cloth, but she spotted it easily enough. The armor had grown tarnished over the years, but one could still see the royal crest of Fival on the breast plate and helm. The greatsword resting beside the old armor was in a better state of repair, however. It too showed signs of neglect, but not so much as its companions.
“Yes, that would’ve been mine.”
The warrior turned to find Diem standing behind her. His long white hair had been braided since breakfast, showing his weathered and heavily lined face more clearly. Pale hazel eyes had a hint of red around them and this morning, he looked like an old man as he stared down at the armor.
“I was a Lieutenant, you know. In the palace guard. The safety of the kingdom was my responsibility.” His hands lightly caressed the armor. “That was a long time ago, though.”
The warrior put a hand on his, stopping him from lifting his fingers from the armor. Slowly, she pulled the neckline of her tunic to one side, showing the tips of the scars that ran across her chest.
Diem smiled. “I see you know a thing or two about old scars, yourself, warrior of Ramor. Mine were not so kind as to let me continue in my service to the King, though.”
The warrior made a movement with her shoulders that baffled the old man for a moment, till he realized she was laughing silently. He joined her after a moment.
“Yes, I suppose you’re fortunate to just be alive, aren’t you? As am I, now that you bring it up. Bah, I’m an old man, with the regrets and memories of an old man, nothing more. When you reach my age, you’ll understand how it can seem no one else has it as bad as you do.”
The look in her eyes gave him pause. “Yes, if you reach my age. The mark on your head is both a blessing, and a curse, isn’t it? You’ll be lucky to see half my age.”
She nodded slowly and let his hand rise from the armor, reaching for the pouch at her belt. A moment later, she showed him the dragon painting she’d come to hate so much. For her, it was symbolic of everything evil in the world.
Diem held the small piece of cloth in better light for a moment, studying it closely. “Yes, I know I’ve seen this somewhere before. Now, where was that? Damn this old mind of mine, nothing holds like it once did. Let me think on it, I know it’ll come to me.” With
Some boys were so easy to please. She was at the back door of the inn before she realized he was only two years younger than her, so she really shouldn't think of him as a boy.
By the time she reached the shed, it had fully sunken in that she wasn't that much older than Chara. She paused for a bit to think on that. She’d considered her a girl since they’d met, but she was as much a full woman as the warrior herself was.
It was odd, to her, how her life had warped her views. Father referred to even the oldest of mortals as children, calling them boys and girls, though in an affectionate way. Her internal voice had viewed both Chara and Daniel as children, though she saw now that it was a biased view.
On the other hand, her internal Rabbit was warbling about a rather inappropriate threesome. She chose to ignore that.
Shaking her head, she unlocked the shed and stepped inside, sneezing at the heavy layer of dust opening the door kicked up. She’d never been one for philosophical ramblings, and decided to simply treat the two as she would want them to treat her. As adults.
Though, Chara's moon eyes were going to make that difficult, she thought with a silent snicker.
Taking her time, she poked through the various crates and chests that filled the left side of the room, and rummaged about in the shelves that lined the right. She found a number of useless trinkets, and a few small things that she figured would be helpful to have. Keeping a mental inventory, she decided to ask Diem about it later.
Then she saw it. It’d been hidden back in the corner, away from prying eyes, mostly covered with a heavy oil cloth, but she spotted it easily enough. The armor had grown tarnished over the years, but one could still see the royal crest of Fival on the breast plate and helm. The greatsword resting beside the old armor was in a better state of repair, however. It too showed signs of neglect, but not so much as its companions.
“Yes, that would’ve been mine.”
The warrior turned to find Diem standing behind her. His long white hair had been braided since breakfast, showing his weathered and heavily lined face more clearly. Pale hazel eyes had a hint of red around them and this morning, he looked like an old man as he stared down at the armor.
“I was a Lieutenant, you know. In the palace guard. The safety of the kingdom was my responsibility.” His hands lightly caressed the armor. “That was a long time ago, though.”
The warrior put a hand on his, stopping him from lifting his fingers from the armor. Slowly, she pulled the neckline of her tunic to one side, showing the tips of the scars that ran across her chest.
Diem smiled. “I see you know a thing or two about old scars, yourself, warrior of Ramor. Mine were not so kind as to let me continue in my service to the King, though.”
The warrior made a movement with her shoulders that baffled the old man for a moment, till he realized she was laughing silently. He joined her after a moment.
“Yes, I suppose you’re fortunate to just be alive, aren’t you? As am I, now that you bring it up. Bah, I’m an old man, with the regrets and memories of an old man, nothing more. When you reach my age, you’ll understand how it can seem no one else has it as bad as you do.”
The look in her eyes gave him pause. “Yes, if you reach my age. The mark on your head is both a blessing, and a curse, isn’t it? You’ll be lucky to see half my age.”
She nodded slowly and let his hand rise from the armor, reaching for the pouch at her belt. A moment later, she showed him the dragon painting she’d come to hate so much. For her, it was symbolic of everything evil in the world.
Diem held the small piece of cloth in better light for a moment, studying it closely. “Yes, I know I’ve seen this somewhere before. Now, where was that? Damn this old mind of mine, nothing holds like it once did. Let me think on it, I know it’ll come to me.” With
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