Sword Bearer (Return of the Dragons 1)

“But not…”

She shook her head. “Not like that, no.”

I took my head in my hands. But I wasn’t going to cry in front of her.

She reached out for my hand, then, but I pulled it away.

“Anders, I promise you I’ll be your friend, no matter what.”

I nodded. But right then I didn’t care about that. It was my skin, I was sure of it. Who could love my face?

She must have sensed my thoughts.

“Anders, it’s not your face.”

I shook my head. “Then what?”

“Anders, we barely know each other. You’re a nice boy. You’re a wonderful boy. But that doesn’t mean every girl is going to fall in love with you.”

“I don’t think any girl will every fall in love with me.”

She grabbed my hand then and wouldn’t let me pull away.

“You’ll see soon how wrong you are. I can feel it. I know there are other girls out there waiting for you.”

I shook my head. I didn’t care about other girls.

She pulled on my hand.

“

You need to get up now, Anders. There’s work to be done.”

I stood up, trying to forget about my embarrassment, then sat back down in confusion.

I didn’t know what to think. Kara was staring at me. I didn’t really feel like talking to her now, but I didn’t want her to leave either.

“What?” she said, finally. “What else is bothering you?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Am I really him? The prince who will unite the bloodlines? My mind refuses to accept it.”

“But your blood doesn’t deny it. Anders, blood can’t lie. You withstood the test, yesterday. Your blood spoke, and sang along with the hilt of the sword you bear. We cannot deny our birthright. Look, it’s hard for me too. My father...”

She bit her lip and fell silent.

“Your father?”

“My father was the leader of the Kriek. My people.” She stopped for a moment, looked at me and blushed again. “Our people, I guess. It is hard to remember that you share our bloodline. My father, Karl Hendrickson, was our King. And the Dark Lord killed him and my mother when I was nine.”

“I’m sorry, Kara.”

She nodded, silently, then continued. “When I was little, nothing short of perfection was ever good enough. Every morning I woke at dawn to a day full of training in the arts of our people. Now I see you, and I see things that all that training didn’t bring me. I believe in you, Anders. We need you, now.”

“Now?” I said.

She nodded. “They’re all waiting for us in the dining hall.”

“Can you just leave me alone for a minute?” I asked.