them. Tranom approached the boy and spoke to him.
“Rael, go tell Master Dori that something very important has happened, and that he should come to the sanctum.”
The young student, Rael, hesitated, clearly not comfortable with the idea for some reason. But he gave no vocal objections. With a curt nod, the boy strode past them and disappeared.
Tranom turned back to Luca. “I shall go and inform Master Allma that you are here. Wait here until Master Dori arrives.” Without waiting for any reply, Tranom passed through the door into the next chamber.
A few moments of silence passed. Luca waited, aware of Emila's unwavering gaze on his back.
“What?” he asked finally.
“Your father died?” she said. “Why didn't you say something?”
“Because that was none of your concern,” he replied without turning around. “I'm not looking for your pity. Or anyone's pity. I'm not here for that. I'm here because I want to see the man who killed him dead.” There was a finality in those words that told Emila he had no desire to continue the conversation.
“Is that right?” asked a new voice from the doorway.
Luca and Emila turned, to find that the boy Rael had returned, in the company of a grizzled-looking ageing man in tattered grey rags. The old man approached Luca, leaning heavily on a cane with each step. He drew close to Luca, looking deep into his eyes. An uncomfortably long moment passed - Luca said nothing.
“Yup,” the man said. “You're definitely a son of Lodin's.”
“Are you Dori?” Luca asked. He couldn't remember what Dori looked like from his faint memories of his first visit, all those years ago. But when he thought of the man who had trained his father, he hadn't imagined an old man in rags.
However, the old man nodded. “That's me. And you are?”
“Luca.”
“Luca...” Dori repeated slowly. “That's right. I remember you now.”
Dori turned back to the young student at the door. “Rael, you're dismissed.” The boy nodded, and left them alone.
Dori moved past Luca, glancing only briefly at Emila. “Allma and Tranom are probably waiting for us. Let's go.”
<> <> <>
Luca and Emila stood in the centre of the room, while Dori, Tranom, and Allma sat in seats before them. Allma the third was a tall, imposing man with a trimmed grey beard. He had watched Luca warily as they entered, and the introductions and mentioning of his father provoked no reaction from him. Eventually, Luca was asked to present his father's sword, to prove he truly was Lodin's son. He did this, and Allma and Dori both looked over the blade and nodded.
“As sharp and smooth as when I last saw it,” Allma said as he held the blade up and examined it under the light of the overhanging lantern. “You've kept your father's blade in perfect condition.”
Dori stepped forward and took the blade from Allma. “The test was hardly necessary, though. I could tell who he was the moment I saw him.”
“You knew my father well?” Luca asked.
“I trained him for four years,” Dori replied, his eyes distant. “So yeah, I think I knew a thing or two about him.”
“Then you can tell me why he sent me to you,” Luca said. “The only advice he ever gave me should he be killed was to come here and speak to you.”
Dori grew quiet for a moment, staring at the sword which he held in his small hands. He ran a finger over the edge of the blade, drawing no blood in spite of its sharpness. He frowned, and finally shrugged.
“Dunno,” he muttered. “I guess it was to point you in the right direction.”
Dori went to Luca and handed him back Lodin's sword. There was a sense of something greater in that simple action - something unspoken between Dori, the sword of his dead student, and the student's son. Perhaps it was Dori's way of saying goodbye to his closest friend. Wordlessly, Luca returned the blade to the sheath at his side, and Dori returned to his seat, looking weary and aged.
Luca was silent, giving
“Rael, go tell Master Dori that something very important has happened, and that he should come to the sanctum.”
The young student, Rael, hesitated, clearly not comfortable with the idea for some reason. But he gave no vocal objections. With a curt nod, the boy strode past them and disappeared.
Tranom turned back to Luca. “I shall go and inform Master Allma that you are here. Wait here until Master Dori arrives.” Without waiting for any reply, Tranom passed through the door into the next chamber.
A few moments of silence passed. Luca waited, aware of Emila's unwavering gaze on his back.
“What?” he asked finally.
“Your father died?” she said. “Why didn't you say something?”
“Because that was none of your concern,” he replied without turning around. “I'm not looking for your pity. Or anyone's pity. I'm not here for that. I'm here because I want to see the man who killed him dead.” There was a finality in those words that told Emila he had no desire to continue the conversation.
“Is that right?” asked a new voice from the doorway.
Luca and Emila turned, to find that the boy Rael had returned, in the company of a grizzled-looking ageing man in tattered grey rags. The old man approached Luca, leaning heavily on a cane with each step. He drew close to Luca, looking deep into his eyes. An uncomfortably long moment passed - Luca said nothing.
“Yup,” the man said. “You're definitely a son of Lodin's.”
“Are you Dori?” Luca asked. He couldn't remember what Dori looked like from his faint memories of his first visit, all those years ago. But when he thought of the man who had trained his father, he hadn't imagined an old man in rags.
However, the old man nodded. “That's me. And you are?”
“Luca.”
“Luca...” Dori repeated slowly. “That's right. I remember you now.”
Dori turned back to the young student at the door. “Rael, you're dismissed.” The boy nodded, and left them alone.
Dori moved past Luca, glancing only briefly at Emila. “Allma and Tranom are probably waiting for us. Let's go.”
<> <> <>
Luca and Emila stood in the centre of the room, while Dori, Tranom, and Allma sat in seats before them. Allma the third was a tall, imposing man with a trimmed grey beard. He had watched Luca warily as they entered, and the introductions and mentioning of his father provoked no reaction from him. Eventually, Luca was asked to present his father's sword, to prove he truly was Lodin's son. He did this, and Allma and Dori both looked over the blade and nodded.
“As sharp and smooth as when I last saw it,” Allma said as he held the blade up and examined it under the light of the overhanging lantern. “You've kept your father's blade in perfect condition.”
Dori stepped forward and took the blade from Allma. “The test was hardly necessary, though. I could tell who he was the moment I saw him.”
“You knew my father well?” Luca asked.
“I trained him for four years,” Dori replied, his eyes distant. “So yeah, I think I knew a thing or two about him.”
“Then you can tell me why he sent me to you,” Luca said. “The only advice he ever gave me should he be killed was to come here and speak to you.”
Dori grew quiet for a moment, staring at the sword which he held in his small hands. He ran a finger over the edge of the blade, drawing no blood in spite of its sharpness. He frowned, and finally shrugged.
“Dunno,” he muttered. “I guess it was to point you in the right direction.”
Dori went to Luca and handed him back Lodin's sword. There was a sense of something greater in that simple action - something unspoken between Dori, the sword of his dead student, and the student's son. Perhaps it was Dori's way of saying goodbye to his closest friend. Wordlessly, Luca returned the blade to the sheath at his side, and Dori returned to his seat, looking weary and aged.
Luca was silent, giving
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