called a problem child
cause i got too wild
I catch his deadpan'Great' and can’t help the smile that tugs at my mouth. To keep my hands from doing something stupid, I push my hair behind my ear and start rolling my sleeves—well, wrestling them—up my forearms. The oversized jacket fights back like a stubborn sea creature. I win on the second try. Barely.cause i got too wild
When he thanks me for the compliment, it clicks. Oh. He made them. The thought tumbles around and comes out a little breathless. Warden of Halo. Guildmaster of the Monster Hunters. And he forges his own weapons. I blink at the racks like they’ve multiplied. Of course he does. Why wouldn’t the Resurrected Sword also be a blacksmith?
Then he says I can take it and my eyes go wide. "Seriously?" It pops out before I can sand it smooth. I clear my throat, trying not to clutch the air like a startled squirrel. "I mean—thank you. I’ve only fought with a shortsword a little. My parents were all daggers, so that’s mostly what I learned. I’ve always thought a sword would be smart to add, but anything bigger than a short one is…" I glance down at my arms, then up at his, then back at mine. "…ambitious."
I pick the blade up again. It’s simple and elegant, no swagger—just honest lines and balance that settles into my palm like it’s been waiting. My first sword that’s mine. The words fizz behind my teeth and I swallow them, scared they’ll come out as squeaking. I find the sheath, test the fit, and the quiet click as it seats makes something in my chest go warm and steady.
I sling the belt with all the grace of someone trying to look cool while buckling a seatbelt in front of royalty, then step out of the armory, the sword snug against my hip. I can feel the stupid beam spreading across my face and I let it. "Thank you," I say to Deimos, sincere enough that it blurs the edges of my usual sarcasm. "Maybe this Deepfrost—if you want—you could help me learn with it?"
but now that's how i'm getting paid
Theea
