Chapter Seven

"How did you two meet?" Kyiroan casually interrogated this arrogant fool of a friend. Relaxed? Anything but. This…boy needs to learn some things. Whatever happened to common courtesy?

"Her grandmother came to town. She was off settling business, assuming Armalan had someone she could be spend the time with." Leering, he seemed a little too confident with himself, stated it as if it was obvious. There was also a hint of anger. At least he cares. "Armalan went off by herself and not being the most liked person around, had a run-in. I helped her out." Could that nose go any farther into the air? He tossed his white blond hair from his eyes. "And what are you to her?" The egotistical, vain, conceited manner rivaled that of the nobles of Thaime.

Kyiroan surveyed him. What to say? Who knew how he would react to anything said? "Also a friend."

"I am her only friend."

"Do you really believe that?" Ice seeped into his words. Tiro's gold-brown gaze looked away, if only for a second. A malicious smirk traversed Kyiroan's face, his eyes burning. "Let us not keep her waiting." His patience had left a long time past. He irritated him.

Tiro gathered his coat from his unkempt bed. The man stood taller than Armalan, not much shorter than himself. Tall for this area. But the light hair and brown eyes were native. Massive shoulders and arms clearly paired him with the hammer he swung all day long. Apprentice to a blacksmith should show more respect. An impressive figure if, nothing else. Ambling to the door, Tiro opened it, waiting.

They walked beside each other. Frequently, Tiro would stride ahead, then fall back to Kyiroan again. What was it Armalan saw in this cocky man?

They reached the inn, Kyiroan slipped ahead of the immature boy, forcing Tiro to stop facing him. "Listen up, boy. I may not have known her as long as you, but do not stress her out. She is wounded and weary. If she does not tell you something, leave it. Do not push it. Any problems?" Before an answer could be given, Kyiroan had entered and made his way to Armalan's door.

He rapped on the door as he turned the handle. Tiro dogged him the entire time, pushing past Kyiroan as soon as the door opened. Armalan stood by the window looking out, eyes glazed. They immediately found Kyiroan.

Striding over to her, Tiro wrapped her in a hug, his strong arms engulfing her. She shifted but allowed it. After a moment, she pulled back, looking over her friend and murmuring affectionately, "Nice to see you too."
The arrogant demeanor was gone. Nothing on his face but a wholehearted smile. His stance relaxed. "How have you been? I haven't seen or heard from you in so long. What are you doing here?" There was no pause. Not even bothering to lower his voice, Tiro continued, "And what is with him?" Both he and Armalan glanced over in Kyiroan's direction.

The ice blue eyes flashed coldly as his eyes narrowed.

Armalan was catching on now. "Well, …I'll explain that later. I am leaving for Thaime, for help. With him." Tiro looked at her strangely, his brows dropped in disapproval and jealousy. "I heard about you. Thought I would talk to you before I left." Her gaze had dropped.

Tiro raised her head. "Well, I'm going with you."

She was clearly stunned. "You really want to? Can you? Your apprenticeship—"

"I never wanted that anyway. It was just something to do."

"Ye—"

"Armalan, may I talk to you?" Kyiroan had stayed unmoving the entire time.

Armalan looked over, then nodded, giving Tiro an apologetic look. She moved to the door Kyiroan had opened, stepping into the hallway. A hand encircled her arm, guiding her to his room.

Napkin was sitting smoking in front of the fire. "I do not mind."

"What?" Confusion stained Armalan's face.

"But I do. I do not want him to join us. I do not want him to know anything."

The Tainir's face turned detached. "I can tell him anything I want."

"Armalan, I know this. I am not saying you cannot." The hand had dropped. Kyiroan's eyes were tired.

The woman's expression softened. "You can trust him. He is just wary, a little overprotective."

Kyiroan glanced over at Napkin, who was still sitting and smoking.

"Please."

A sigh escaped him. "Fine." He refused to look at her.

A hand touched his arm, causing him to gaze into her sparkling, green eyes. "Thank you." A slight smile flashed upon her face.

"Do not tell him anything yet." Her mouth opened, but he continued, "I want to talk over a few things." Her nod could barely be seen, reluctance obvious in its movement.

She opened the door, waiting for Kyiroan to pass through it. They reentered Armalan's room to find Tiro watching the door, frostily.

"You may join us. We are leaving in the morning. Meet us here at dawn. Tell no one of where we are going." Kyiroan crossed his arms in front of him, leaning against the door frame. "If you need to know more, you can find out later. Now, you should go. We have things to do."

Tiro remained silent, although he wanted to argue. He turned to Armalan. "I will see you in the morning then." And, with a glare at Kyiroan, he left.

"So, what things do we need to do?"

Kyiroan smiled. "Oh, nothing, just sleep. I just did not feel like arguing with him."

Armalan rolled her eyes, turning away from him.

With a gasp, Armalan woke, as usual, with little over two hours sleep. Even though she had experienced this for as long as she could remember, annoyance still gripped her. By now, she should be used to this.

She rose from the bed, then fell back from the pain in her shoulder. The white nightgown was soaked with blood. Tenderly touching her head, she found the gash was scabbed over. There was no way she could bandage it herself. She tried to take the gown off and replace it with something else, but the pain wouldn't allow her. It looked like she was going to have to bother Kyiroan. How she loathed this.

Trying to be as quiet as possible, she found that walking quietly through the inn was considerably harder than the woods. In the forest, you could see or feel something under the foot. In this house, the floorboards gave no hint as to which ones would creak. The creaks, after the silence of the early hours of the morning, sounding in her sensitive ears, made her wince.

Snoring could be heard from behind the door, she tapped lightly on it, then opened it and slipped in. The roars were coming from the sleeping heap on the bed, who was, sure enough, Napkin. Her keen eyes quickly found the standing healer facing the smoldering fire.

Kyiroan turned to her, seemingly unsurprised. His eyes snapped to her blood-soaked gown. He leaned down to grab a few things, before stalking over to her. "Let us not disturb Napkin."

I doubt anything could.

Returned to her room, Kyiroan attempted to move the stained cloth. She hissed, jerking away from him. He produced a knife, ripping the fabric from her shoulder. A chill swept across the wound, triggering a shiver. A freezing cloth cleaned the wound, causing the tremor to wrack her body. Even when the bandage wrapped around the wound, containing the blood, the convulsions shook her. She was so cold.

Warmth enveloped her. She fell back into its embrace. The spasms dulled back to shivers, and the shivers died. Soon, she realized exactly where that warmth came from.

She stiffened. Kyiroan's arms sprang away from her, while his face flushed. "I am sorry. You were just—you just seemed—"

Armalan's hand stopped him. "I'm sorry I had to bother you. I couldn't do it by myself."

Kyiroan composed himself, his arms settling against his sides and his eyes returning to normal. "You should get some sleep."

"That is not going to happen. How long is it until sunrise?"

"About two hours."

"Can we leave now? I do not particularly want to be seen in the village." She had seen those hateful glares in the common room. Some people remembered her.

"If you want to, sure." He didn't seem in the least bit confused.

Armalan regarded him as he left. Well, at least something has gone to her liking.