The March

I swear I’m actually back to regular writing here. (It’s amazing how my inevitable return to Westeros gets me in the Cammadan headspace..)

Sorry about the false start y’all!

The Marina Chronicle

I stood in the weapons tent, looking over what I was going to carry when we started moving. The tent parted and Caleb walked in. I locked eyes with him and he frowned.

“I don’t like this,” he said simply.

“I don’t care,” I shrugged. He sighed, and I looked at him. “Why?”

“You’re being rash,” he explained. “You can’t act without thinking things through anymore. This isn’t a game.”

“I’m aware,” I said simply. He nodded. “I knew about being the sword.”

“I assumed Anselm told you,” he shrugged, “it wasn’t for me to know or tell.” I pressed my hands against the table. “You aren’t angry with me then?”

“Not for that, no,” I whispered. He frowned. “How could you keep us apart?” He nodded. “Caleb, we could have helped each other. I could have learned,” I stopped.

“We didn’t want to,” he said softly, I scoffed. “Little…

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