The Powerful Gifts (Chapter 2, Part 1) ((Corrected))

Maven stood just outside the cave. The air was warm and extremely humid. The clouds were a deep grey. All the signs of incoming storm. She would not be leaving today. She began to walk, passing tall trees and large bushes as she went. She felt a weight at her side, which she knew was her sword. Rune had given it to her that morning. She remembered when the weight had felt so natural and when she had felt vulnerable without it, but now she felt off balanced and weird. She hoped a little training would get her adjusted to it again.

Once she felt far enough from the cave, away from spying eyes, she removed her sword from its sheath. She stared down at it in her hands. It was longer than her old sword and much heavier, but the tip was more precise and the handle was smooth, easy to grip. She took a few practice swings, jumping back and forth with each slash. Any other person would have already felt tired for their muscles would have been very diminished from the long years in prison, but Maven had the Gift of Eternal Fitness and Beauty. Which also explained why she had remained so clean in prison while the others had rotted away.

She stopped for a breath then lunged at a nearby tree, slamming the side of her weapon into its trunk, creating a deep gash. When she yanked her sword back from inside the tree, slimy sap escaped from it, trickling down to the pine needle covered ground.

Maven then spun around, twirling the sword above her head and slashing the top of a bush clean off.

She trained for many hours like this before the sky began to leak large raindrops and rumbles of thunder, forcing her to go back.

She entered the cave, still swinging her sword around and walked over to her corner. She ignored the stares and sat there studying her weapon in her lap. Without turning her head she watched as some people moved closer to Rune, who was sitting by the fire. She just barely heard one of them whisper,

“Do you really think she can be trusted with a sword?”

This made her smile and from now on she made a decision to never put her sword away. She strained for Rune's reply and heard,

“You can go over and take it from her if you want, but I'm not going to.”

Maven's smile widened as she stared down at her sword when they all looked in her direction, but none of them made a move towards her.

The storm raged on for the rest of the day with deafening booms and winds that would make you think the very trees were being lifted from their roots. And it was well after dark when it slowly calmed to a quiet drizzle.

Maven still hadn't fallen asleep, for some reason she didn't feel tired, even after her long training session. But everyone else seemed to be. Everyone else except Fyron Crane, the boy who had been fearless enough – or maybe stupid enough – to talk to her. The child was sitting across from her on the other side of the cave, his golden eyes boring into her. She was not bothered or annoyed by his stares anymore, but rather enjoyed them. She couldn't help but wonder what kinds of things went on inside his mind. When she had first met him she had known right away that something singled him out from the rest. She had also noticed that he never talked to anyone, and no one talked to him either. In a way, they were the same.

Maven stood and stepped over sleeping bodies, making her way over to Fyron. She still held her sword in her hand. She sat down next to him.

“Shouldn't you be asleep?” she asked.

“Shouldn't you?”

Maven resisted a grin. “What other Gifts do you have?”

“I don't often reveal them to people,” Fyron replied. He seemed slightly subdued today.

“Of course,” she said in a mock understanding. “Do you have training in any kind of weapon?” she asked, noticing his eyes upon her sword.

“No, Rune says we can't train to fight until we are fourteen,” he answered almost grudgingly.

“Well, I learned to fight at eight,” she told him. “Would you like me to teach you?”

She saw a dark emotion cloud his eyes that looked suspiciously like hunger.

“Daggers,” he whispered as though to himself. Then said louder, “Could you train me to use daggers?”

Maven couldn't resist. “I thought Rune said you couldn't learn until you were fourteen,” she purred.

“He doesn't have to know,” the boy said quickly, leaning forward.

Maven smiled approvingly at him. “Do know where to get some daggers?”