For WIP Wednesday, a snippet from the fantasy romance serial I start posting next month.
"You have one month left in your training."
Ghalen cheered internally at that. The end to his time serving under Trainer Girvyn's cruel and unjustly-biased instruction couldn't come soon enough for him.
"Today you'll choose the style of weapon that you'll train with from now on. This weapon will become your specialty. Once you complete your training, you will be issued your own personal weapon and armor. Maintenance of both armor and weapon will become your responsibility. Choose your weapon wisely. It should be one you're comfortable with and that suits your body and abilities." Trainer Girvyn waved a hand at the tables behind him. "Line up and choose."
The year ones moved in an only slightly undignified rush to queue up in front of the weapons tables, all eager to make their selection. Ghalen ended up in line behind Cevon. While they waited for the people in front of them to go, Ghalen stared at the back of Cevon's head, absentmindedly watching the way the sunlight sparkled on the golden strands of his hair every time Cevon moved. When it came Cevon's turn to step up to the table, Ghalen stood quietly for a moment as Cevon perused the weapons laid out on the table. Then he decided to tease him.
"Hey, Cevon. Do they make a sword small enough for those little hands of yours?" Ghalen grinned after his question, anticipating his friend's response.
Cevon glanced back over his shoulder, an eyebrow raised as he cast Ghalen an arch look. "They do." He spun around fully, a short sword clasped in each hand. "Two of them in fact," he said with a smirk. "But tell me, xx. Do they make a helmet giant enough to fit that big head of yours?"
Laughter broke out at Cevon's quick comeback. Ghalen wasn't at all hurt or embarrassed by Cevon's comment or the laughter at his expense. Still, he pretended to be wounded, clutching a hand over his heart. "Ouch, Nuuru. Your words cut deep."
"I'm going to cut you both if you don't move it along," Jang-Mi snapped from behind them.
Laughing, Cevon moved to the side so Ghalen could step up to the table and make his choice.
Ghalen didn't need much time to decide. For the past couple of days, he'd thought long and hard about the different types of weapons and which would suit him best. Without hesitation, he picked up a broadsword. It was heavy in his hands, the double-edge blade long and thick. He held it out in front of him, testing the way it felt in his grip. It felt right. This was the weapon he was meant to use. While he looked over the sword, Cevon moved in close to whisper in his ear.
"Compensating for something, xx?"
Ghalen snapped his head up, ready with a retort. Except, when he looked into the soft, brown depths of his friend's eyes, he froze. The insinuation of the remark, combined with the look on Cevon's face, stopped him in his tracks. It was a look he couldn't quite name - it fell somewhere between sly and teasing. The back of Ghalen's ears burned in response to it and something unfamiliar but not unpleasant twisted behind his navel.
Cevon smirked, dark eyes flashing with deviltry before he strode off with his chosen weapons.
His sword gripped tightly in hand, Ghalen followed after him.
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My rambling and not at all edited thoughts on romance novels, writing, and pop culture.