Chapter 20: - Thorne
As they rejoined the group, the differences in their appearances were striking. Liam's hair was matted with sweat, his clothes had more tears, and the nurous bruises on his skin were a testant to the grueling session he had just experienced.
On the other hand, Irys seed more spirited, her steps light and eyes sparkling which suggested she truly enjoyed the session.
Aric glanced at Liam, an eyebrow arching in amusent, and his lips twitched into a teasing grin. "Well, soone's certainly had a rough 'date,'" he remarked, making air quotes with his fingers. "Did you at least get a good dance in between the beatings?"
Liam rolled his eyes, a hint of a smile forming despite his best efforts to appear irritated. "Funny you should ntion it. We did have a dance, but it was more of a tango with blades," he retorted, touching a bruise on his arm for emphasis.
Irys, feigning innocence, chid in with a playful smirk, "Oh, co now. It was a waltz at most. You just need to work on your footwork, Liam." She winked, her teasing tone matching Aric's.
Zalya, showing more concern, eyed Liam's battered appearance and said, "Do you need so more healing salve?"
Liam thought for a mont. He still had much of the salve stashed away, but given its effectiveness and the uncertainty of finding more, he replied, "Sure, I could use more.thanks, Zalya."
Handing over a small jar of the salve, Zalya inquired, "So, how did the training go? Learn anything new or just found out how hard the ground is?"
Chuckling, Liam replied, "Definitely both. Irys sure doesn't pull any punches when it cos to training."
Irys smirked and added, "My master always said that theories won't save you in a real fight. You need to drill the techniques into your muscle mory, make it instinctual. Sotis, that ans taking a few hits. Or in your case", she chuckled, her eyes dancing with mischief as she looked at Liam. "All hit you can take."
Nodding in agreent to Irys's statent, Zalya chid, "It's always more beneficial to endure hits during practice than to be caught off guard in an actual Fight. After such tiring day, we should all get so rest. Let's set up a watch rotation, just to be on the safe side."
While applying the salve, Liam spoke up, "I'll take the first watch." Aric chid in, "I'll cover the last shift." Irys nodded, "I'll go second then," leaving Zalya to declare, "That leaves with the third watch. It's settled then" With the schedule set, the group settled into their makeshift camp.
Liam took his position as the first guard, his senses heightened in the stillness. "Trik, I am sure the kidnappers are dispatched by soone in the know about the shroud.I must prepare for a fight when I return. What do you think? Could 'they' have anything to do with this?"
Trik's response mixed his typical playful tone and a more contemplative thoughtfulness. "Well, it's been years since you've had any contact with 'them.' They cut ties with you, rember? I really doubt they would be involved in this ss. But then again," he added with his usual antic, "One never knows. Better keep those blades sharp, eh?"
Liam's eyes narrowed as he continued his watch, a thoughtful frown on his face. He knew Trick's advice was right, but he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that sothing deeper was at play.
Liam was deep in thought, strategizing about his next moves upon returning when an unsettling sensation prickled at the base of his neck. Instinctively, he ducked, and a sharp, whizzing noise cut through the air where his head had been monts before. Without missing a beat, he rolled forward, conjuring his talon strike and bracing himself for combat.
His tension was interrupted by the sound of slow, deliberate clapping. Turning around, he saw Irys, a smug smile on her face, holding her greatsword, which she had swung in his direction just monts ago. "Good job," she comnded. "Your instincts have sharpened, and you were quick to get into a combat stance. But why are you still standing there? Get over here, airhead."
Still feeling confused by the sudden change in circumstances, Liam warily approached Irys, his brows furrowing as he asked, "It's not your ti to watch yet. What are you doing up?
Irys simply smirked, gesturing for him to sit beside her. "No need to worry about it,"
As Liam took a seat, Irys began to materialize a mysterious briefcase, her eyes montarily clouded with nostalgia before returning to her usual deanor. She opened it and presented it to Liam. Inside lay a set of black leather armor, complete with arm guards and shoulder guards, intricately adorned with a bluish rune pattern in the middle.
"Wear it," Irys commanded, her tone softening. "Though it may appear ordinary, this is a soul gear. It's not the best of its kind, but bonding with it will allow you to materialize it at will, and it'll fit to your body automatically."
Liam, never one to reject a gift, especially one he needs, accepted the armor, his eyes wide with surprise and curiosity. He couldn't help but ask, "Why don't you use it then?"
Irys rely smiled, a glimr of sothing unspoken in her eyes. "Well, my armor is better than this one. Other than its ability to be materialized at will, this particular piece has nothing special about it." Internally, Liam wondered, 'If it's not special, why does she carry it around?'
Liam reached to pull out the armor, but Irys swiftly intervened. "Allow ," she insisted. Grasping his hand, guiding it above the bluish pattern on the armor's chest plate. Without a mont's hesitation, she bit into his finger, letting a few drops of blood fall onto the armor.
Liam recoiled, both from surprise and the sting, his cheeks reddening.
Trick's voice chid in, "Didn't know armor bonding was such an intimate affair, did we know?". But before Liam could retort, a voice resounded: "Soul gear armor of Thorne - Bonded." The armor transford into a shimring ray of light.
Gathering his composure, Liam turned to Irys, his face still slightly flushed. "Thank you."
Wiping away the remnants of Liam's blood from her lips, Irys's catlike eyes twinkled with expectation. "Now, put it on."
Liam nodded, and as he willed the armor onto him, it molded perfectly to his form. The result was a striking young man with piercing blue eyes, a defined nose, prominent cheekbones, and short black hair. He was encased in black armor, adorned with protective plates on the shoulders, arm guards, and chest. The bluish runes on the chest pulsated softly, adding a warrior aura to his appearance.
Irys's lips curled, smiling beautifully, her eyes sparkling in the dim light. "Not bad at all; it suits you," she complinted. Liam's heart skipped a beat for a mont, srized by her smile. A palpable tension enveloped them as their eyes locked, the world montarily fading away, as if ti itself had paused just for them.
Irys smirked, "Why the dazed look, airhead? Go rest up. I've got watch covered."
Liam, his composure slightly ruffled, nodded, "Alright." The playful laughter from Irys trailed behind him as he retreated, checking out his new soul gear.
Armor of Thorne
The Armor of Thorne, one of the first soul gear produced for the elite warriors of Valandrian, was created from the hide of a fabled shadow beast. As generations passed, the armor beca a rite of passage for every Thorne clan warrior.
It wasn't just the physical protection it offered but also the spiritual connection. It's rumored the wearer could feel the essence of the Thorne ancestors guiding them, lending them their strength in tis of peril.
TrueFit
No matter how the wearer's body grows or changes, the armor adjusts to provide a perfect fit.
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