II: The Dagger’s Hum

Happy Saturday, everyone. I just wanted to say thanks so much for all of the support I have already received, especially for my poems. You guys are great, thanks so much for being there for me! Anyway, here's your chapter for the day!

- Sky :)

AVEN

It was a day after Aven’s interesting guests had arrived, when she came in contact with them again. None of the three had come down for breakfast, lunch, or dinner, much to her and her mother’s surprise. Her mother’s strategy when it came to handling odd guests was to serve them a very fancy breakfast and earn their favor, but it didn’t work so well when no one wanted to eat breakfast.

Aven’s mother had been just as intrigued by the guests as Aven had, but had been proud of her daughter for handling them well. She was so pleased that elves considered the inn worthy of staying that she almost hurried down the stairs to greet them immediately, but Aven stopped her before she could.

When she’d explained about the other guest, who was much less pleasant than the elves, her mother’s joy had disappeared faster than one of the many mice they always caught around the inn. She had not commented anything about him, but Aven had no doubt that her mother’s voice would have been dreadfully soft, filled with an emotion that she was struggling to hide. Aven had left the room soon after that, not wishing to be in the tense silence any longer.

She hadn’t spoken much to her mother for the rest of the night, which was driving her crazy, but she knew not to interrupt the elder’s thoughts. So there was silence.

Midday had just passed on the day after the guests had arrived, and Aven was curled up reading her novel. She’d finished the fight scene and, for once in her life, was reading a particularly boring part of the book when there was a soft knock on her door.

She lifted her head immediately, unfamiliar with the sound. Her mother never knocked, and when her papa visited her room, he banged his knuckles against the wood no less than five times. So, wondering who it could be, and grateful for the interruption of the drab scene in her novel, she dog-eared the page and stood.

Upon opening the door, her eyes widened at the sight before her. There stood Eldrin, his hand halfway up to the door as he was ready to knock again. The first thing she noticed was that he didn’t have his cloak on. He wore a green shirt and brown pants, signature of any wood elf, but his were clearly spun with the best cloth. The kind reserved for highly ranked elven nobles, or human kings. He stood tall and regal, brown hair spilling about his shoulders but braided away from his face, chocolate brown eyes observing her with practiced accuracy, and pale face sculpted to perfection.

Shuddering slightly as she realized that she was under the presence of a very, very highly ranked elf, she lifted her eyes to his. “Hello, Eldrin. Can I help you with something?”

“Well I was wondering if you wanted to see the dagger,” He replied, his voice somehow even smoother than the day earlier. He offered the distraught girl a warm smile that didn’t seem to fit the rest of his features.

“Oh, sure,” Aven answered, taken aback. She was surprised he’d gotten it done so fast, but she supposed he was a master of his trade.

Without another word, the intimidating elf turned on his heel and strode purposefully down the hallway. Aven hurried after him, lifting her skirt slightly so she didn’t trip. He danced down the stairs, light and soundless as a feather, and paused to wait for her at the bottom. Aven hurried after him, catching up quickly. Aven had, of course, heard many tales of the agility of elves, but she’d never been one to see it firsthand. It was so much cooler than the books had described it.

“Coming?” Eldrin asked her, breaking her out of her thoughts.

Aven blinked, and realized that he was already the whole way down the hall. “Yes, sorry,” She responded, hurrying after him.

He waited patiently, and held the door for her as she entered his room. She murmured a thanks as she ducked under his arm and slipped inside.

The room was not unique, nor splendid in any way. Aven had always been disturbed by how plain and simple it was, but her family couldn’t afford anything more decadent. As it was, they were barely able to pay the basic bills, and she had a rising suspicion that her father was in a lot of debt.

The wooden floor creaked as she stepped inside, which she expected, but she still winced slightly. The fireplace in the corner was crackling merrily, casting a warm glow of light and heat across the room. The beds were both made neatly, covered in their lumpy gray bedspreads, and it hardly looked as if the guests had even unpacked. yet. Aven spotted Mae sitting on one of the beds, looking very on edge. She offered the she-elf a smile, which was not returned.

Eldrin strode over to the other bed and pulled a brown package that Aven had not noticed yet to him. He looked at her strangely, and she realized that he was waiting for her to open the paper.

She strode forward and brushed her thumb against the crinkly brown substance, feeling suddenly apprehensive, nervous that he’d ruined the dagger by polishing it. But when she flicked open the package, an odd thrill found its way through her veins, making her shiver slightly. She opened the package further, and her eyes widened at the contents inside.

The dagger, which had previously been rusted and dull, a single use away from falling apart entirely, sat so polish and sharp that it literally glowed in the packaging. Because Eldrin had cleaned all of the rust away, she finally got a good look at the thing.

It was thinner than she anticipated, and shaped like an ancient sword. The most interesting thing about it, however, was that it glowed red. Even the handle, which was pure black and set with rubies, seemed to glimmer a shade that unnervingly resembled blood. An inscription in a language Aven could not read lined both sides of the dagger. She reached out, and put her fingertips against the handle of the blade. It seemed to jump and hum with energy under her touch, as if it was made specifically for her. She grinned.

Her hand closed tightly around the handle now, and she picked it up, weighing it carefully. It was much less heavy than she expected it to be, as she’d held many weapons before and they had all been very tiring to lug around. She didn’t want to swing it, for fear of hitting either of the elves, so she set it back down carefully in the package.

When she looked up, Eldrin and Mae were both watching her very carefully, their eyes narrowed in thought. Aven offered them a smile and wrapped the dagger deeper in the package. “Thank you, Eldrin,” She told him sincerely, her eyes shining with gratitude. She’d never expected such a connection to a weapon before, as she was more of a peacekeeping person who could hardly hold a sword up, much less fight with one.

“My pleasure,” He replied, stepping aside so she could leave. She did so with a bounce in her step, feeling rejuvenated after the encounter.

The door closed quickly behind Aven, but she wouldn’t have paused had she not heard Mae’s next words. “She’s a little oblivious, isn’t she?”

“Oblivious of what?” Eldrin asked in reply, his voice a little harder to hear than Mae’s.

“You saw it, too, didn’t you? I know that’s why you offered to clean that dagger. You know it’s the one, don’t you?”

“Yes, I saw it. But we don’t have to do anything. She’s so innocent, Mae, I don’t want to drag a kid into a journey like that. Wait a few years, and maybe we’ll come back.”

“You would rather thousands of people suffer and die than ruin someone’s childhood?” Mae retorted, her voice growing louder.

Shuddering and not wishing to here anything more, Aven hurried away as silently as she could. She did not hear the door open, and no one asked her if she was eavesdropping, so she figured she was safe.

She raced up the stairs, the dagger tucked safely in her arms, and hurried down the hall that led to hers, her mother’s, and her father’s rooms. “Mama!” Her voice was urgent, and she pounded quickly on the door, eager to tell her mother the most recent drama with the guests.

The door opened quickly to reveal Aven’s mother, who took one look at her very alarmed daughter and ushered her into the room. “Goodness gracious, Aven! I would have thought the inn was invaded by flesh-eating chipmunks if you’d acted any more panicked. What’s the matter?”

Aven’s mother was a very renowned woman. She had a kind appearance, with tangly, thick brown hair and the prettiest gray eyes Aven had ever seen. She was lucky to have inherited them from her.

“So you know how Eldrin and I got all riled up at each other yesterday? Well I forgot to tell you, he offered to clean the family’s dagger for me as an apology, and I tried to tell him it was okay and he didn’t have to, but he wasn’t having it. So I let him.

“This afternoon, he came and found me and told me that the dagger was finished. He showed it to me-in their room, and the strangest thing happened. When I touched it, I was so…elated. And the dagger, like, hummed at me. Like it was speaking its own language.

“So anyways, I left with the dagger, and I heard him and Mae talking, and they said that I was too young for something, and that if I didn’t go now then thousands of people would die-”

Aven’s mother cut her off abruptly, “Were you supposed to have heard this, Aven?”

The girl lowered her eyes in shame, “No,” she replied, before looking back up. “But I did, and it’s worrying me.”

Her mother nodded, “Right, I thought this might have happened. You really shouldn’t have let Eldrin clean that dagger, sweetheart. But what’s done is done, so you may as well show me.”

Aven pulled the package out from under her arm and set it carefully on the bed. She stepped aside, allowing her mother to unwrap it.

The older woman hovered over the package for a second, seeming hesitant to even touch it, before she brushed her fingers over the paper. With a gasp, she retracted her hand immediately, and cast her daughter an alarmed glance. Aven wanted to ask her what was wrong, but she was already touching the paper again, this time closing her hand around it and pulling the papers open.

The dagger sat innocently, glowing softly and, it seemed to Aven, humming again. “There it is!” She whispered as she realized. “Can’t you hear it, Mama?”

Her mother nodded, frowning. She reached her hand out and stroked it down the metal on the flat part of the blade, her lips pinched together in an unreadable expression. And then, suddenly, she yanked her hand back.

Aven frowned at her mother, “What?” She asked.

“Go, Aven,” Her mother answered, her eyes still focused on the dagger. “Last I checked, the floors were begging to be swept.”

Internally rolling her eyes, Aven didn’t reply. She knew not to argue when her mother took that tone. So she turned and walked out the door, closing it softly behind herself, and then trotted down the stairs to retrieve the broom.