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rakashavia https://ift.tt/37P6BFx
On one hand I feel guilty because I never want to distract people from their WIPs but on the other hand I am so gleeful and flattered that I shall yeet out a snippet for you:
…
If the boy had been planning to kill him, he would have done it already —or worse, chained Axis’s soul to his side with a thought—, so Axis just grunted and turned back to his cooking. The silence lingered semi-comfortably between them, Axis cooking and Nox cleaning his kukri while Axis mentally brooded over his many questions and Nox … well. Who knew what was going on in his mind. When the food was finished, Axis scraped it onto a pair of camp plates and shifted to hold one out to Nox, “Here, this is-.” He stopped. Stared at the shining blades of the kukri Nox was polishing.
Those blades were familiar. Too familiar. He’d thought they were just Lucian knock-offs while they were dirty, but looking at the careful work of the steel and hilts —battle-worn as both were—, the coeurl teeth dangling from one of them-.
Those were Galahdian Chieftain blades. Ulric Chieftain blades. Or at least, one of them was, the other had clearly been modeled more on Insomnia and the Lucis line than Galahd’s legends and blessings. Still. Chieftain blades. In the hands of a boy without braids or last name. How had Nox gotten his hands on them? Did he know what they meant?
Would he even care if he did?
The blades vanished in a flare of crystalline magic, and Nox stared at him with that inhuman level of age and solemnity, “Is there a problem?”
Axis bit back the accusations and questions he wanted to air —not his place, yet, and besides he didn’t want Nox to decide Axis was better off dead than running around able to spill his secrets—, “Nothing. Those were fine craftsmanship.”
Nox was still looking at him too sharply for comfort as he responded slowly, “I know. They’ve survived a lot.”
Axis knew a warning to back off when he heard it, and chose to offer the plate of food rather than lose his life or freedom, “This is yours. I don’t have a pot for soup, but this should still be easy on your stomach.”
Nox blinked down at the plate and just like that, the inhuman edge to his gaze was gone —this kid was going to give him emotional whiplash, honestly—, “Thanks. You didn’t have to.”
(Your picture was not posted)
On one hand I feel guilty because I never want to distract people from their WIPs but on the other hand I am so gleeful and flattered that I shall yeet out a snippet for you:
…
If the boy had been planning to kill him, he would have done it already —or worse, chained Axis’s soul to his side with a thought—, so Axis just grunted and turned back to his cooking. The silence lingered semi-comfortably between them, Axis cooking and Nox cleaning his kukri while Axis mentally brooded over his many questions and Nox … well. Who knew what was going on in his mind. When the food was finished, Axis scraped it onto a pair of camp plates and shifted to hold one out to Nox, “Here, this is-.” He stopped. Stared at the shining blades of the kukri Nox was polishing.
Those blades were familiar. Too familiar. He’d thought they were just Lucian knock-offs while they were dirty, but looking at the careful work of the steel and hilts —battle-worn as both were—, the coeurl teeth dangling from one of them-.
Those were Galahdian Chieftain blades. Ulric Chieftain blades. Or at least, one of them was, the other had clearly been modeled more on Insomnia and the Lucis line than Galahd’s legends and blessings. Still. Chieftain blades. In the hands of a boy without braids or last name. How had Nox gotten his hands on them? Did he know what they meant?
Would he even care if he did?
The blades vanished in a flare of crystalline magic, and Nox stared at him with that inhuman level of age and solemnity, “Is there a problem?”
Axis bit back the accusations and questions he wanted to air —not his place, yet, and besides he didn’t want Nox to decide Axis was better off dead than running around able to spill his secrets—, “Nothing. Those were fine craftsmanship.”
Nox was still looking at him too sharply for comfort as he responded slowly, “I know. They’ve survived a lot.”
Axis knew a warning to back off when he heard it, and chose to offer the plate of food rather than lose his life or freedom, “This is yours. I don’t have a pot for soup, but this should still be easy on your stomach.”
Nox blinked down at the plate and just like that, the inhuman edge to his gaze was gone —this kid was going to give him emotional whiplash, honestly—, “Thanks. You didn’t have to.”
(Your picture was not posted)
