Wielder's Awakening by T.B. Christensen Page B

heart attacks.  He got unsteadily to his feet.  Maybe she would be at the celebration tonight.  Maybe he would ask her to dance.  Maybe she would even say yes and then . . . get a hold of yourself .  He shook his head trying to clear his thoughts.  Someone as beautiful as her wouldn’t even remember that he existed.  Besides, he had things he needed to take care of.  But he was sure of one thing, he definitely wouldn’t mind bumping into her again.
    Traven hurried down the stairs and across the common room.  He squeezed his way into the crowd out in the square and headed for the market place where he had been earlier.  He had paid attention on the way back and had no problem finding the street where the man had the sword and dagger stall.  He quickly made his way down the street until he found the stall and turned into it.  The stall keeper was there, and he grinned when he saw Traven come in.
    “I figured you’d be back son but not so soon.  I picked out a few nice sheaths for the sword you wanted.  If you’ll hand over the money, I’ll let you have the sword and the sheath of your choice.”
    It was then that Traven realized that he was unconsciously reaching out toward the sword.  He gave a start before reaching into his money pouch and retrieving the necessary gold.   The owner made the gold tallies quickly disappear and handed the sword to Traven.  He took the sword with awe.  It was actually his now.  He had paid for it, and it was his!  He took a few swipes through the air with a grin on his face.
    From behind the counter, the man pulled out three sheaths and set them down.  One of them was a plain leather color with circular designs etched into the hide.  The second one was a deep blue decorated with golden stars.  Traven really liked how it looked but settled on the third one.  It was pitch black and webbed with silver.  It would match his saddlebag and his new dress clothes that he had gotten for his birthday.  He would look splendid when he rode into the merchant school all in black and silver with a matching sword hanging from his hip.  He slipped the sheath onto his belt and sheathed his sword.  It was comforting to feel the weight of it at his hip.  Everything was working out perfectly.  He would return to the inn, convince the merchant leaving in the morning to let him accompany her, and celebrate late into the night.  Things couldn’t get much better.
    Traven left the man’s stall and headed back for the inn.  The sun was beginning to rest low on the western horizon and already the crowds were starting to thin.  He had no problem making his way back to the inn except for trying to figure out how to walk without getting the sword tangled in his legs.  By the time he reached the square, he had figured it out pretty well and was feeling rather proud of himself.  The common room of the inn was abuzz when he walked in.  The tables along the wall were full of people eating their dinners and full of excitement.  Traven found the old man he had talked to earlier and sat down across from him.
    “I see you got a sword boy.  Meritza was down here earlier but went back up to her room to get ready for the celebration I suppose.  I’ll point her out to you when she comes back down.  You might as well get something to eat and relax until then.”
    Traven ordered some food and leaned back to wait for the serving woman to bring it.  Over by the fireplace on the far side of the room he saw several musicians getting ready to play.  Most of the people in the room were finishing up their meals and looked eager to celebrate.  After a couple minutes a young, pretty serving girl brought over Traven’s food and gave him a quick wink and a smile before taking off to another table.  He felt his face heating up slightly and quickly looked down at his food to keep the old man from noticing.  He enjoyed the food.  Another serving woman came and took his plate away when he was