26. Locke
Locke
I glanced over my shoulder to watch as Roan floated into the tent, his feet were actually dragging through the ground with his exhaustion. I chuckled as I cracked my neck before looking at Fare.
“He’s really not as bad as I first thought. A little rough in a lot of ways and places, but he’s got a lot of potential,” I said.
She looked taken aback a moment before she laughed. I couldn’t stop myself from watching her as she threw her head back and longed to trace her throat with my tongue.
“He does grow on a person after a while, doesn’t he?” she asked as her laughter died down. “Kind of strange that you were actually able to tire him out though. I didn’t think that was possible.”
“I guess. But he was the one who started it,” I replied. “But it was interesting. When we started, I couldn’t land a blow on him. Not that he was able to dodge or block me, but all my attacks went straight through him.”
I lost myself in my thoughts as I recalled the surprising sparring session.
When I’d first noticed Roan was trying to lift a stick, I had no clue what he was trying to do. But when I saw the extra weight from a bundle of twigs was too much, I helped him out by pulling it aside. That was all the assistance I had planned to give the spirit.
If he wanted to make himself stronger, he would have to ask before I would even consider aiding him. At least, until he could lift the damn stick enough to swing it at my head.
Okay, so I knew that wasn’t what he meant. After watching him swing it around wildly like a child, I made sure I had a weapon of my own to stop him from accidentally hurting either Fare or myself.
The boy had some minor skills, I would give him that. The thought had crossed my mind as I studied him from the corner of my eye. When I was done with my chores and was able to give him more of my attention, I think I intimidated him.
Good . I thought as I raised my weapon against him. That will stop him from getting cocky.
I only gave him a brief moment to recover from my deflection of his careless blows before I charged him, my mock club at the ready. There was never the intention to cause him harm, but I had noticed that the longer we sparred and the more I focused and willed my blows to affect him, his body took damage.
That fact that he had to expand more of his willpower to keep his stick in the air as he tried to block me wasn’t shocking. But that I could hurt his form was a surprise. Then again, maybe not. I mused. After all, I was able to drag him most of the way to the mountains by my force of will alone. And he must have been at least open to the possibility. Just like he was open to being able to physically interact with Fare and me.
The powers of the ghost intrigued me far more than it probably should have, but maybe what I should have been more interested in was the source of his strange abilities.
Could it be the darkness within him that called to the shadow in me?