The ride to old Porv's inn wasn't as long as Elena had thought. They had reached a poor
section of the town where every corner was filled with shops, and Calhoun took them to the last
one at the corner. Although it was late and most people had closed–the inn in that area was very
much alive, though– an old man was in the shop, sleeping. He had kicked his head back and had
laid his leg across the front table where what looked like dry scrolls had been placed. The man
was snoring heavily, and Elena could bet that he was also drooling. He stretched his body out so
that the chair he sat on was not standing on four but two of its feet. Elena felt a pang of fear for
him. He could easily fall if care wasn't taken.
"Old man!" Calhoun's called out from atop his horse, and what Elena predicted came to
pass. He jumped up in shock, causing his chair to kick back further and landing him on the
ground. Elena winced, hoping that the man didn't retain any injury. She looked towards Calhoun
and noticed his bored expression. Elena guessed that he had probably seen the incident several
times. The old man propped himself up and smiled, not acting as he had almost broken a bone
earlier. He looked at them and turned to face Calhoun.
"You brought customers for me?" His expression was one of awe and reverence. Ignoring
him, Calhoun turned to Elena.
"He is Old Porv."
Elena turned to look at the man who was smiling brightly at her. She didn't know what to
say, only that the image she had of her soon-to-be sword master wasn't of an old man who was
very thin and could barely keep himself from falling. Elena turned to face Forest, and from the
look on his face, she could tell that he also wasn't expecting this either.
She turned back to face the old man.
"You're old Porv?"
"Yes." The man said, smiling brightly at her. Sweeping his hands above the scrolls on his
table that were scattered from his early charade, he asked, "are you interested in a
swordsmanship script? These are the best you would ever find."
Elena looked at the said script in question. She would have doubted that he was the sword
master her grandfather and Wazir were talking of, but it was no coincidence that he sold sword
scrolls. Swallowing her doubt, she faced him, studying every emotion that passed his features.
"I was told that you are the best swords master in the whole kingdom. I came to learn
from you."
She glanced at Calhoun, whose brows were raised in question, and back to the old man
who had wiped off every semblance of his cheeky grin. The air was still and silent; the only
noise was the people in the nearby inn and people closing up their shops.
"Who are you?" He asked. His expression had become frigid as he looked at her. She put
her hands in her satchel, which she had worn across her body, and brought out a letter that her
grandfather had written. Even she hadn't read the missive, and she hoped it would provide the
results they wanted.
"This is for you." She said, stretching from atop her horse to give it to him. The old man
stood in place, giving her a wary glance before finally coming out of his shop and heading to her.
He stretched a bit and received the letter, still giving her and her friends a wary glance before
breaking the seal and reading it.
His eyes danced across the pages with a swiftness Elena hadn't noticed earlier in the man.
If this man was really who her grandfather described, why would he be selling sword scripts in a
run-down shop? As the best sword master, he could teach the royal children, earning money that
would be enough to last him for a lifetime.
Suddenly, the old man's face split into a grin, and he laughed, his expression one of pure
joy.
"My, my, how time flies." He said, folding the letter and looking up to face Elena.
"You are my best friend's granddaughter. That old swine! After training Wazir, he still
didn't think it was enough and had to blackmail me into teaching you too? He is lucky that I am
so kind-hearted. Come, let's head to my abode. You will stay there for the duration of your
training. I might not be as strong as I once was, but that doesn't mean I can't shape you into a
great warrior." He boasted, puffing his chest as he released a smug smile.
Elena turned to face Forest, who, in turn, looked at her with a shrug. Surprisingly, she
was shocked– as she had been bombarded with surprises ever since she came there–to find out
that he was the one who trained Wazir. She always thought it was the head of the King's guard
who taught him. She really wished that she had read the letter before giving it to him. She looked
back at the old man and saw that he had started closing his shop.
"Let's go. You're staying at my house. That doesn't mean you won't pay rent though. I'm
sure your grandfather loaded you with enough money to last for years." He looked at her
suggestively.
"What did my grandfather write to you?" She finally asked, not able to hide her curiosity
any longer.
"Here, you can read it yourself." He said, stretching towards her and giving her the letter.
She opened the letter, expecting to see a long paragraph of carefully written sentences,
hoping the please the man into teaching her, but that wasn't what her grandfather had written.
No, it was far from it.
The letter consisted of a few greetings and only one sentence,
'Teach my granddaughter, or I tell everyone what you did.'
Her grandfather's signature and his name were at the end of the letter. She was surprised
that he didn't sign it with his authority as a king. The letter was what someone would write to a
very close friend, friends who had probably been together for life.
She swallowed and held unto the letter.
"Come," the old man called out. "Let's start going."
*****
Calhoun didn't know what to think after hearing the conversation between Elena and Old
man Porv. He didn't know what surprised him the most; that the old man was a swords master or
that Elena had been looking for him just so he could teach her sword fighting. He didn't know
why the notion of Elena getting hurt in any way made him want to strike something. He barely
knew her. Not betraying the emotions on his face, he followed the old man who, unlike them, led
them to his house on foot.
Calhoun glanced at Elena and saw how she was taking in her surroundings as if inputting
every corner into her brain. He appraised her silently. She was smart, he thought. It was good
that she didn't trust them early, as seen by the way she was looking around, probably thinking of
ways to escape should the need come. They continued their journey in silence, the trod of the
horses being the only sound heard in the quiet environment. The night covered the sky, and the
moon and stars stood out proudly, showing their splendour. Although there wasn't enough light,
Calhoun still couldn't stop himself from studying Elena.
From the way the soft breeze blew her hair across her face and the graceful way she kept
on tucking it back behind her ear, to the way her eyes shone when they finally reached where the
old man stayed as she took in the beautiful environment, Calhoun knew then and there that he
was in trouble. It wasn't normal for him to like someone on the first day he saw her, barely hours
ago. Did perhaps his ancestors select her as his mate? His father kept telling him that he would
know when he found the one, as it had all been planned by their ancestors. But with the way he
had been throwing different women his way, hoping that one would finally ensnare him into
getting married, he decided that all his father's talk of predestined spouses was nonsense. Now,
he was beginning to doubt the decision he had earlier come to because no matter what he tried to
tell himself, the way his whole body reacted to Elena wasn't normal. He sighed, taking in a deep
breath. His blood rage had calmed days ago but was still there simmering. He would try his luck
then. There was no need denying himself that quest; after all, he had been looking for a bride. He
would see if she could calm down his raging lust for blood. If he falls for her, even if she
couldn't, he would still be okay with the outcome. His father had mentioned something about a
spell, so hopefully, that would help them if they were ever married.
He stopped himself. He had already travelled farther than average with his imagination.
Strangely that strengthened his resolve.
He was going to woo her.
His guards stood outside the house, standing at attention as they waited for him to
dismount from his horse. He thought of giving them signals to act normal towards him, but
knowing his guards, they were most likely to do the exact opposite. He sighed, wondering what
Elena would think if she knew his real identity.
"My Lord!" His guards shouted, coming towards him. He sighed, risking a glance at
Elena. She looked at him, her expression one of curiosity. He got down from his horse, walking
it to where the old man had reserved for him to keep it. Tying his horse's reins on the tree, he
ignored his guards and looked at Elena.
"You can keep your horses here." He said, motioning to the tree. Why he told them, be
didn't know as the old man was capable of telling them himself. Elena rode her horse to where he
stood, and she jumped down from her horse, the woman with her following her steps. Walking
her horse to the tree, she tied the reins, turning to face Forest, who had already climbed down
from his horse and had tied his horse too.
They took in their environment when they were done, Elena and Forest's eyes widening
in awe while Elion barely reacted except for giving it an appraising look.
"Welcome to my abode!" The man said, spreading his hands wide as he smiled proudly.
Calhoun had his sights on Elena since, taking in every reaction she exuded. He watched as she
turned to look at the old man, amazement shining through her eyes.
"You have a lovely house!" She said, turning back to look at the environment.
"Indeed I do." The old man said, nodding his head smugly. "Let's head inside." The lot
followed the old man, Calhoun being last as his guards flanked behind him. He knew they had
questions, but they were wise to keep them to themselves. The door opened, its annoying screech
announcing their arrival. The house was dark, though the hearth had been lit. There was no one
in the living room when they entered, and the old man led them straight to the passage where
their rooms were. He was surprised, wondering if he wanted them to share a room with his
people as there were no other rooms in the passage he stayed in. He was further surprised when
the old man took them to what he had earlier thought was a closet but turned out to be a stairway
leading to the back of the house. Calhoun was tempted to follow them and make sure that Elena
was comfortable, but he stood back and held his urge, watching as the old man led them farther
into the backside of the house.