His name was Beamol, one of Savos's little brothers that happened to be a couple years older than Erlan. Roughly a year had passed since that day in the mountains, when Erlan first met the man destined to marry her sister.
Over time, the girl learned to accept the young soldier. He travelled between Durn and Gredgeworth, his home village that stood about a day's ride out, to spend time with Hida and help the people of Durn build and repair boats. He seemed nice, even if he wasn't all that bright where social awareness was concerned. It was his brothers - Beamol, specifically - that Erlan had a difficult time accustoming to.
She sat on the outskirts of the harbor, cradling a thick, heavy tome of a book in her lap, listening to the sounds of the waves and the yelling of her neighbors as her eyes skimmed over the ancient drawings and words before her.
Frenza, the runkist, stood beside her, back straight and arms relaxed at her sides. The people were getting slight more comfortable with her around after all this time, although rarely did they ever willingly come up to speak with her. Although Erlan got the impression that Frenza didn't mind the cautious fear people held in regard for her, she still couldn't help but think how lonely such a life would be - to have people fear you because of ignorance.
"You're distracted today," the odd woman noted.
Erlan paused, realizing that she had read over the same section of words multiple times over.
"Sorry," she muttered. Frenza shook her head.
"It's not me you need to apologize to," she reminded. "When the snakran invades your home, it would be your fellow neighbors you'd owe forgiveness to."
Erlan scowled.
"Snakran don't lurk in salt waters," she reminded. A ghost of a smile fitted the woman's lips.
"No," she agreed. "Can you tell me why?"
"Too toxic. They'd need to come to land more often - and they'd die of dehydration."
"What else?"
Erlan hesitated, wracking her brain.
"Their eggs wouldn't survive," she finally said.
"And?" When Erlan didn't respond, the woman turned her gaze from the rushing waves down on the girl.
"Hey, Pipsqueak!" a familiar voice called out from the docks before Erlan could reply. The girl glanced over her shoulder to see a the black haired, bronze-skinned boy waving at her, not at all caring about the white-cloaked figure standing next to her.
"What else, Erlan?" Frenza reminded gently. Erlan barely heard her, struggling to come up with a witty reply.
"Uh . . ."
"Girl!"
Erlan shook herself, tossing the runkist a sheepish smile.
"Salt forces their venom out from their fangs. They'd drive themselves mad with too much entering their bloodstream."
Frenza scoffed lightly, her eyes trailing above Erlan and landing on the boy now running up the docks to meet her.
"Do you intend to marry into his family, as well?" She asked suddenly. Erlan startled, closing her book before rising to her feet.
"W-what?"
Frenza raised one of those perfect dark eyebrows.
"Your sister is set to marry the older Gredgeworth boy, is she not?"
"She is, but what does that have to do with me?"
The runkist briefly raised her eyes towards the advancing boy.
YOU ARE READING
On Death's Honor
Fantasy"When you're in a place that darkness thrives, you learn to fear the light." "Why?" "Because the light will kill you faster." ------ For as long as she could remember, Wren has lived a rather unconventional life. She's hunted down trolls, bled out w...
